A small frown puckered Thadie’s forehead. ‘And that’s important to you?’
He shrugged. ‘No, not particularly. But I like the fact that it irritates and annoys my father that I can afford things he can’t.’
‘I suppose every man wants enough money to do the things they enjoy. To be able to provide for his family. To spoil his wife.’
Angus’s low laugh held no amusement. ‘Not The General. No, he had a series of mistresses and he spoiled them, as much as he could.’
Thadie winced. ‘How long have you known about his extra-marital affairs?’
‘My dad introduced me to the first one when I was thirteen. His dalliances weren’t kept a secret, even from my mum.’
‘Ouch, that’s young. I was in my late teens when I realised that my parents were unfaithful,’ Thadie admitted.
Angus snorted. ‘My father wouldn’t have tolerated my mother having an affair. She’s his property, under his command.’
‘Do you still have contact with him? Your mum?’
He shook his head. ‘No. In my weaker moments I reached out twice, but gave up when they didn’t return my calls or respond to my emails.’
Fury bounced into Thadie’s eyes. ‘Charming,’ she muttered, and Angus knew she was holding back harsh criticism. Angus felt one or two of the icy chains encircling his heart snap. She was fully Team Angus.
He’d let her step into his inner world but now he didn’t know what to do with her, where she should go. And that was more terrifying than storming a terrorist stronghold, walking straight into enemy fire. This was uncharted territory in every sense of the word.
And because she made him feel too much, threatened to snap those chains—they were industrial strength and, he thought, indestructible—and because he was floundering, he felt compelled to put some distance between them. This felt too intense, too real.
‘I saw a bottle of champagne in the bar fridge. What if I run up and get it, and a couple of glasses?’ he asked, jumping to his feet. He touched her bare shoulder. ‘Are you cold? Do you want a towel or a T-shirt or something?’
Thadie sent him a gentle smile as if she understood why he needed to run. ‘It’s a lovely, still hot evening, Angus, I’m fine. But take all the time you need.’
Right, well...okay, then. He was obviously as transparent as glass.
Thadie watched Angus easily jogging up the steep path to the villa. She understood his need to be alone—she felt the same.
Like him, she needed a moment to find her bearings, to stabilise her ship, to breathe. Around Angus, she felt as if she were running out of air, her brain shut down and her body, and its needs, took over. She needed a few minutes to regroup.
To think.
She didn’t regret making love to Angus. That had been inevitable. From the moment they’d met again, she’d known that being in his arms, in his bed, was just a matter of time. She might be totally addicted to the way he made her feel physically, but at least she wasn’t confusing sexual chemistry with love.
Sex was sex and love was different. If they could keep the twins’ relationship with Angus separate from their nuclear attraction, then she could do the same for her sexual urges and feelings.
It was just a matter of choosing her thoughts, and looking at the situation clearly.
She glanced towards the north-east, thinking of her boys on another island. Was she a bad mother for desperately wanting a few days, maybe more, to explore their chemistry and attraction? Time for them to talk, make love, be, without having a little person interrupting them, demanding something from her, whether it was a cuddle or a cookie, to be a referee or a reader.
Thadie bit her lip, feeling guilty at wanting Angus to herself, enjoying this time away from them. She’d be lying if she said she never relived their London night together, fantasised about being together like this. He was, after all, her hottest sexual encounter.
For the first time in four years, she felt free to be, wholly and authentically, herself, without reference to anyone else, including the twins.
But what would her life look like when they left the island, when Angus returned to London? Would every hour in the day be dedicated to the twins? Or could she carve out some time for herself by sending her kids to a morning-only playgroup or nursery school?
The thought immediately made her stomach clench and twist. She’d always been so hell-bent on doing everything herself. But, instead of dismissing the idea as she normally would, she decided to examine why she was beating herself up for wanting to do something for herself.
For the first few years of their lives, she was so conscious of being all the twins had and she’d been driven to do everything herself, to be a super-mum. Because if she didn’t do absolutely everything herself, she would be like her parents, who’d never done anything at all.
Liyana had never changed a nappy, her father hadn’t known what one was. They’d never lost sleep because she was crying, nor dealt with a childish temper tantrum. They’d simply employed nannies, then au pairs, to raise her.
Why be a parent when you could pay someone to do it for you?