Zane exhibited a real dedication to duty in everything he did, which had made him not only a staggeringly successful entrepreneur, but also any woman’s dream lover. But it was when she managed to shake that precious control that she enjoyed their time together the most.
C.D. sent up a series of exited yips, nearly making Iona slice off her thumb, before her less-sensitive hearing picked up the hum of a car engine in the driveway.
She was drying her hands on a dishcloth when the bell chimed. Excitement tickled her skin as she headed down the hallway. Was Zane home early?
Tonight might well be an evening for sex first, dinner later. Her lips twitched. In fact, she might have to insist upon it.
The excitement fizzled, though, when she spotted the silhouette through the glass bricks that framed the front door. That wasn’t Zane. And then a white envelope popped through the letter slot.
She picked up her pace and opened the door, grabbing hold of C.D.’s collar to stop the dog barrelling after the woman already strolling back to a shiny red Beemer—with a baby perched on her hip.
‘Hello, can I help you?’ Iona called after her visitor, her disappointment turning to curiosity as she lifted the heavy envelope from the mat and spotted Zane’s name in ornate lettering.
The woman swung round in a circle, making the baby giggle. ‘Oh, hi,’ she said. ‘I thought there was no one in.’
She walked back and Iona felt the prickle of envy at the woman’s tall, lithe figure. She exuded the slim, poised confidence of a supermodel with her short, classically cut blonde bob, which accentuated her amazing bone structure and a pair of stunning emerald eyes. The simple cotton summer dress that flowed around long legs and a cropped jean jacket only added to her funky glamour. The baby, who Iona would have guessed was about a year old, had soft curls of dark hair that framed a round face—and appeared to be blessed with the same easy smile and flawless petal-soft skin as his mother.
‘I’m so sorry to bother you. Are you Zane’s housekeeper?’ the woman said, still smiling politely.
A panicked little flutter set up under Iona’s breastbone. Okay, this was a little awkward.
The baby clutched a hand of his mother’s hair in one fat little fist, and stared owlishly at Iona. As his mother laughed and extricated herself Iona got a much better look at the child. And the panicked flutter became a blast of astonishment.
The child had the same striking, translucent blue eyes as Zane, even down to the unusual dark rim around the irises.
Good Lord. Did Zane have a child he hadn’t mentioned to her? She knew he was tight-lipped but that would be ridiculous, surely?
‘Um, no, not exactly,’ Iona stuttered. Not quite sure what the etiquette was in this situation. ‘My name’s Iona MacCabe,’ she said, deciding that honesty was probably the best policy. ‘I’m sort of living here, at the moment.’
The woman looked disconcerted, but gathered herself quickly, the curious smile staying in place. If she was Zane’s babymama she seemed remarkably nonchalant about the new arrangements.
‘You’re Scottish,’ she remarked.
‘And you’re English,’ Iona replied, having been so preoccupied with the baby’s eyes she had only just recognised the crisp cut-off vowels of her neighbouring countryman.
‘How lovely,’ the woman said, apparently sincere, and held out her hand. ‘Hi, I’m Tess Tremaine. Oh, bugger…’ she said, clapping her hand to her forehead as her smile became sheepish. ‘Sorry, Tess Graystone. Would you believe it? We’ve been married for months and I can never remember to use his name.’
She shook Iona’s hand with surprising vigour while the baby continued to stare, its fist now stuffed in its mouth.
‘Nate thinks it’s a Freudian slip because I’m secretly planning to run off with our estate manager, Manolito.’ She rolled her eyes charmingly. ‘As if! The poor man’s seventy if he’s a day…’
The husky chuckle at her own joke made Iona smile, liking the woman. And Nate had to be her husband, so maybe she was mistaken about the baby.
‘I think I owe your husband a debt of gratitude,’ Iona said. ‘I was staying in his cottage in Pacific Grove up until about a week ago.’
‘That was you?’ The woman’s eyes lit now with a mixture of both excitement and curiosity. ‘And now you’re sort of living with Zane?’
Iona nodded, not sure why she was getting such an enthusiastic reception, but willing to go with it. ‘Yes, that would be me.’
‘How intriguing.’ The woman jiggled the baby on her hip, making him giggle. ‘I’m afraid I’m now going to have to invite myself in for a cup of tea and quiz you mercilessly. Because I’ve only ever met a couple of Zane’s girlfriends and I’ve got to tell you—’ Tess’s
gaze flickered over Iona, making her hopelessly self-conscious about her paint-flecked T-shirt, faded cut-offs and bare feet ‘—they were both boringly predictable in comparison to you.’
Iona huffed out a laugh, relieved at the woman’s cheeky smile and her apparent candour, and desperately curious herself. ‘You’re more than welcome to come in for a cuppa,’ Iona offered. But as she stepped back to let Tess into the house she got another good look at the toddler who stared at her with Zane’s eyes and had to add, ‘As long as you don’t mind me quizzing you about Zane right back.’
‘That seems only fair,’ Tess said easily, bouncing the baby on her hip as they walked down the hallway towards the kitchen. ‘Although I can’t imagine I’m going to be much use. Even though Zane and Nate have been friends for ever, I’m afraid to say, ever since Brandon here was born, he’s been a bit of a stranger. That’s why I’m here, actually.’ She nodded at the invite still clutched in Iona’s fingers. ‘To make sure he shows for the christening. I’m a little tired of us all pussy-footing around the issue of Zane’s relationship to Brandon. So I was going to try to guilt him into making an appearance.’
Iona placed the invitation carefully on the countertop and filled the kettle. Zane’s relationship to Brandon? So he was the baby’s father.