Stupid, she knew. The man was Svengali after all.

Still… and it nearly killed her to think it—she missed him.

A short time later, Dominic was standing outside a shop on Marylebone High Street waiting for the shopgirl to get her key to work in the door. He’d depended on Liv for all his recommendations, including this very small store selling children’s clothes. He was about to impatiently say, Good Lord, let me do that, when the girl finally managed to turn the key in the lock. She was completely flustered by the presence of the stunningly beautiful man who’d been waiting for her when she arrived. If only she’d worn a nicer dress, she was wistfully thinking, spent more time on her hair, put on more dramatic makeup.

Although once inside the shop, it was Dominic’s turn to be befuddled. He’d never set foot in a children’s clothing store. His gifts for Melanie’s children had always been toys. So he stood just inside the door, surveying the minimal space and the glass case in the middle of the room filled with tiny, colorful, handmade shoes. He wondered what it was that he needed and wanted and how to ask for those things without revealing his identity. The tabloids would have a field day with this photo.

He came awake from his daze at the sound of a throat being cleared and a timid, “May I help you, sir?”

“I need baby clothes,” he said gruffly. “If you could show me some,” he added more graciously, “I’d appreciate it.”

What a lovely deep voice. “Do you have anything special in mind?” she asked, hoping he’d smile and say You.

“No, no—ah—I’m not sure.”

There was a small silence.

“Is it for a boy or a girl?” the young lady asked, because clearly the gorgeous rock star in her shop didn’t have a clue what he wanted. Dressed in jeans and a black leather jacket so supple it looked like silk, with his dark, ruffled hair curling softly over his jacket collar and his long-fingered hands flexing slightly, he was seriously doable.

“The baby’s—not—” He took a small breath.

“Not born yet?”

He nodded.

“Something for a newborn then.”

Dominic blew out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Exactly. That’s what I need. No blue or pink. Something neutral.”

“White is always nice,” the pretty blonde said, knowing she’d be posting this on Facebook as soon as he left the shop. “This way, sir.” Lord, she wished she dared take his picture, because her friends would all be green with jealousy that she’d breathed the same air as him.

Dominic followed her to a rack on the wall where tiny little garments hung on tiny little hangers. As she took them out one by one and held them up, he said yes or no, mostly yes, or asked a question that made it plain he knew next to nothing about newborns. He bought everything she had that wasn’t blue or pink, gave her a company credit card that didn’t help her at all in terms of his identity or even in terms of the company name. She’d never heard of Green Infinity Industries. As for his signature, no one could possibly decipher it.

“I need everything boxed and wrapped—ribbons and that sort of thing. Not individually, a few larger boxes perhaps. Someone will pick them up this afternoon. Thank you very much,” he said with smile. “You’ve been a great help.”

A really dazzling smile, she thought with a sigh, watching him from behind the counter until he slid into the backseat of the swank black car.

Dominic briefly considered buying maternity clothes but wasn’t quite up to entering that arena, feeling slightly intimidated for the first time in his life. Not that he wouldn’t do it, if that’s what Katherine wanted. He was in full accommodation mode.

Which reminded him. Flowers. Was that too trite? Too clichéd? Maybe something small, delicate, sweetly scented. What was that fragrance that reminded him of Katherine? Did she wear perfume? Jesus, why hadn’t he paid attention?

In the end, the young woman in the flower shop near his home suggested lily of the valley with tiny white roses, the small bouquet tied with a white silk ribbon. He carried it to Katherine’s flat, let himself in, chatted with his staff, who were there cleaning and doing dishes and laundry, placed the simple crystal vase on her bedside table, set a small sealed envelope beside it, and, stepping back, smiled.

Fuck, it felt good just to be here again.

Strange how happiness could be so simple.

When Katherine walked into the flat after work, she wasn’t surprised to see the pile of packages on the foyer table and the chair, two larger ones on the floor. Beautifully wrapped packages with white and yellow bows. Or she wasn’t very surprised. What she had to admit was that it pleased her, and that was slightly more difficult. She almost immediately called herself to task; Dominic just wanted something he couldn’t have. She was a challenge for him.

But when she walked into her bedroom to change into something comfortable, she saw the small bouquet on the bedside table and felt her stomach do a little flip-flop. Had he been here? As she approached the bed, she saw the note and, picking it up, sat on the bed. Peeling the seal open, she pulled out the small card and read the two lines.

I’ll try to be a good father.

I’ll try really hard.

All my Love,

Dominic

Tears slid down her cheeks. She thought of his bleak, unhappy childhood during which neither parent cared and her heart ached for him, for this promise for his child, for the poignant sadness in that hope. And all her resentments melted away when they shouldn’t. When she should know better. When the thousand issues that still confronted them couldn’t be exorcised by hope alone. Falling back on the bed, she shut her eyes and let her mind go blank.