Chapter Seven – Poppy

Poppy woke up. In the arms of George Lancaster.

As she lay there with her eyes half open, she tried to figure out how she felt about that. For one, she had always considered herself a light sleeper. Living in the cabin, she had always been easily awoken by noises outside. It was a self-preservation mechanism that had served her well. So how he had entered the room, undressed—and she knew for a fact he was naked under the sheets—and climbed into bed with her, all without waking her up, was worrying. It hit her ego for a loop.

Poppy Madison had lost her touch. All in a matter of eight hours.

And then there was the other thing. The thing that was nestled against her back, the thing that she wanted inside her. She closed her eyes and tried to get rid of the naughty thoughts that were inside her head. If she wriggled back on him, would he wake up, would he make love to her? Her stomach flipped at that idea, and heat flared in her core. She truly was a lost cause.

But only around George Lancaster. She hadn’t been with another man since that night, even in the months that followed, when she had no idea she was pregnant with his child. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t taken precautions when she had sex with George. She wasn’t that stupid or naive, and yet here she was five years later.

In his bed once more, her inner voice teased her.

Yes, in his bed once more. In his arms. And completely lost to a man who didn’t trust her, and with every good reason. All she had to do was open her mouth and tell him about her brother. Tell him she stole the blade in return for her younger brother’s safety. Her brother, whom she had promised her parents she would look after when they went on vacation, and never came back.

They had gone on a cruise off the island where they were staying, when a storm hit and the boat went down. No trace of them was ever found, their watery grave lost forever. What other choice did she have than to keep that promise? She was a woman of her word, in everything she did. Not only with friends and family, but in business too, which was why she was so well thought of and held in high regard.

Until that one fateful night. When she lost all reason, after her brother got himself into trouble. Her life had ended that day. Until the first stirring in her belly that told her she was carrying a new life inside her. A second chance.

“Are you awake?” George asked, his breath caressing her neck.

“Yes.” She’d promised not to lie to him, but it would be so much easier to lie here with her eyes closed and pretend she had not heard the rumble of his voice.

“I have to go to work today. I should familiarize you with the house, and introduce you to Alfie.” With that he unwrapped his arms from her body and slipped out of bed. It took all her resolve not to turn over and watch him. Instead, she closed her eyes and imagined.

His tall, broad frame, covered in golden skin, pulled taut over rippling muscles. Damn, this was torture.

Poppy slipped out of bed. Keeping her back to Gorge, she reached for her clothes. They had been clean four days ago; now they were dirty, and smelly. However, walking around in George’s T-shirt and nothing else was not an option, especially since she was about to meet Alfie, whoever that was. George did not seem to be a pet dog or cat kind-of-a-guy, so Poppy assumed Alfie was like a housekeeper.

Or a lover! What if George was gay, or bisexual!

She squashed that thought flat. There was no way Poppy was sharing a man with anyone, man or woman.

“Will the boy be awake?” George asked, as he opened his closet.

“Charlie. He has a name,” Poppy said.

A pause in George’s movements. “A good name. Why did you choose it?”

Poppy didn’t pause; she pulled on her mud-stained jeans as she spoke. “I liked it. Why else do you give a child a name?” she asked flippantly. He didn’t need to know that she had obsessed over George Lancaster all through her pregnancy and named her child after his father.

“Why indeed?” George asked and closed his closet.

Poppy wrestled her bra on under her T-shirt, and decided she might just as well keep it on. Only because her shirt was dirty and torn. Not because she wanted anything of George Lancaster’s next to her skin. Loser, she told herself. Which described her perfectly. She had lost everything because of her brother, and she was about to do the same again, unless she was open with George.

She sighed, and looked up at the ceiling. Tonight she was going to come clean and tell him everything. It would give her time to get her story straight, try to make him understand her motives. And if he went after Brax? So be it. She was done protecting him at the expense of herself and her family. A family that now included George Lancaster, whether she liked it or not. He was the father of her child, and that had to be more important than her wayward brother.

Brax had made his choices. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to conjure up the image of the men in the mountain. He’d been there. She was sure of it. Up until now she had tried to persuade herself it could not have been him. But in truth, she knew it was. He was still wrapped up in all this, and still willing to use her for his own ends. But how had they found her?

Poppy looked down at the ring on her finger, the only item of jewelry she possessed. It was their mother’s ring. She twisted it around. Brax was supposed to give it to his fiancée whenever he found her. Instead, after the Heartsfire Blade incident, he had given it to Poppy, told her he was sure Mom would have wanted her to have it. They both knew that wasn’t true. They both knew Brax had always been their parents’ favorite. But Poppy had been desperate for the sentiment to mean something.

She pulled it off her finger as far as the knuckle; it was time to let go of that part of her life. “Poppy,” George barked, and she pushed the ring back on her finger.

“Yes?” she asked, her brain foggy with the past as she looked at him.

“Are you all right?” He frowned at her, and she realized she had been sitting here frozen in her thoughts.

“Yes,” she said, and got up. “Do you mind if I keep your T-shirt on?”

“No.” His eyes roamed her body, and her insides squirmed, but she fought for control. She was so weak-willed, she was in danger of transferring her love and loyalty to the first person who came along who might fill the void inside her where a loving family should live. But she doubted George Lancaster had any more intention of loving her than Brax, or her parents.

She longed for Charlie to be in her arms, to kiss his precious head and inhale the scent of him. “I’m going to check on Charlie,” she said, and stumbled out of the room.

He watched her go; she could feel his eyes boring into her back, but she did not look back. Whatever game George Lancaster was playing, she wanted nothing to do with it. She would live here with him, she would sleep in his bed. She would have sex with him… But she would keep her heart intact, and only open it to Charlie, or any other children George might put in her belly.