She looked at him with an angry mixture of fear and frustration. “You don’t care, do you? It has to be your way or no way.”
“Was your way so good, Nicole?” he countered. “Keeping Zoe to yourself? Not caring if she might want her father?”
Hot colour raced into her pale cheeks. “You weren’t good for me, Quin. Why would I believe…”
“Yes, I was,” he cut in vehemently. “I was good for you or you wouldn’t have lived with me for so long. I just wouldn’t dance to your strings and I’m not going to dance to them now, either.”
He took a step closer to her, his whole body emanating the aggression she had triggered. “Let me into the house, Nicole. We do this peaceably or you’ll be facing a court order for visitation rights. You want our daughter dragged into that kind of conflict?”
She shrank back against the door, confused and frightened by the threat, not having imagined he would feel so strongly about claiming his child. But he did. The need to forge a bond with his daughter was raging through him, fuelled by the sense of having been arbitrarily deleted from being a factor in her life for the past four years. On the other hand, if he alienated Nicole too far, he wouldn’t get all he wanted.
He tempered the tumult of feeling, forcing himself to speak calmly. “Let’s move on from the past, Nicole. We have a future to build for Zoe and cooperation is a better foundation than conflict. Okay?”
Her hand fluttered to her throat as though it was too constricted to allow speech. Her eyes filled with a helpless vulnerability, as though he’d stripped her of defences and she didn’t know which way to turn.
“It will be okay. I promise you,” Quin pressed earnestly.
She scooped in a deep breath, released it in a shuddering sigh, then stepped back, pushing the door wide open to let him enter. “That’s the first really important promise you’ve made to me, Quin,” she said shakily. “I hope it will be kept.”
He stopped beside her, lifting a hand to gently cup her face and tilt it towards his, wanting her to look and see the burning sincerity in his eyes. “Let’s seal it with a kiss, Nicole.”
He didn’t wait for a verbal consent. It was enough that she kept looking at him, making no attempt to twist out of his light grasp. The need to connect with her, as well as their daughter, surged through Quin, dictating a kiss of persuasion, not possession. It was important to soothe her concerns, make her feel that he truly, deeply, cared, and the strong sexual desire she’d always stirred in him was not the one and only reason for them to come together.
For a few moments she was completely passive, letting him kiss her but not engaging in it herself. Then her inner tension collapsed and her lips moved in a tentative response, as though curious to taste what he was offering, unsure where he was going with it. Quin didn’t push for more. Gaining acceptance and making it stick had to be his primary goal this morning.
He withdrew slowly, softly brushing his lips against hers as he murmured, “A new beginning. For the three of us.”
“You’d better make the most of this time with Zoe,” she said huskily. “You know the way to her bedroom.”
It was a dismissal but not a hostile one.
Satisfied that he had made some breakthrough, albeit a small one, Quin moved on down the hall and quietly opened the door to their daughter’s bedroom, quite happy just to look at her if she was still asleep.
He hated having missed four years of her life, deprived of seeing her grow into the child she was now. He should have been familiar with her face and every expression of it. As it was, he was acutely conscious of the need to memorise it so he could call it to mind whenever he wanted.
Zoe was not asleep. She was lying on her side, gazing at the butterfly tree. Early morning sunshine was pouring through the bay window, lighting up the multicoloured wings, creating a magical sight. A child’s wonderland, he thought, giving him a quick appreciation of how loving a mother Nicole had to be. How many women would put their time into such a project?
Then Zoe caught sight of him and scrambled to sit up, a look of pure amazement breaking into a smile of absolute delight. “You came again!”
The tension he had carried into this room instantly slipped away. Deep pleasure in the artless welcome from his daughter warmed his own smile. “And I brought you a present.”
He handed her the boutique bag and sat on the bed beside her, happy to watch her surprise, her eager anticipation as she removed the tissue-wrapped glass butterfly, her look of awe when the gift was revealed.
“A Ulysses!” she cried. “How did you know I wanted this one, Daddy?”
“I didn’t know.” He was amazed she knew the name of the butterfly. “I just noticed last night that you didn’t have one on your tree.”
“I saw them on TV and I asked Mummy could I have one and she said I had to wait for a special occasion.”
“Well, this is a very special occasion,” Quin assured her.
“Yes, it is!” Zoe clapped her hands with glee. “My first day with my daddy!”
Something curled around Quin’s heart and squeezed it tight.
How many first days had there been?
The day she was born…he didn’t even know her birthday!
Her first word…
Her first step…
“Do all the butterflies on your tree mark special occasions, Zoe?” he asked, working hard at keeping his tone light and interested, belying the clawing sense of loss at having been eliminated from every significant signpost in her life.
“Mmm…” She cocked her head, considering her answer. “Most of them I got when I was sick. That was when Mummy started the tree.”
Quin frowned over this information. “Were you very sick?”
“Very, very, very sick,” she replied, nodding gravely. “I had to be in the hospital ’cause I got…” She hesitated, frowning over the name given to her malady. “Mingitis,” came the triumphant recollection.
A chill ran down Quin’s spine. “Do you mean…meningitis, Zoe?”
“Yes. That’s it!” She looked pleased with his knowledge and repeated the word with careful precision. “Men-in-gitis.”
Horror struck hard. Zoe could have died. It was probably a miracle she had survived the deadly illness. He might never have known this beautiful child had ever existed. His child…lost before he had found her.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to make you feel better,” he said, heaving a sigh to ease the ache in his chest.