Their Very Special Marriage by Kate Hardy Read Free Book Online Page B

film had finished. And Rachel’s mood had cooled to the point where she didn’t want to make love any more—what was the point, when she clearly came so far down Oliver’s list of priorities?
    He didn’t reach for her in bed that night either. Which in some ways was just as well, because Sophie woke several times, each time feeling itchy and out of sorts and wanting comfort from her mother. Rachel felt like a zombie from lack of sleep the next morning, and her mood hadn’t improved by Saturday evening, when Oliver appeared, freshly showered, wearing smart black trousers and a casual silk shirt.
    â€˜Aren’t you getting changed?’ Oliver asked.
    She stared at him. Changed? ‘Why?’
    â€˜My mother’s drinks party. We’re supposed to be going, remember?’
    Rachel shook her head. ‘I told you this morning, I rang her and explained that Sophie was ill and I can’t leave her.’ Surely he wasn’t going to suggest that they should still ask Ginny to babysit, when Sophie was ill and miserable and wanting her parents? She bit back her irritation. ‘You canstill go, if you want.’ On his own. Leaving her to do all the nursing.
    â€˜I promised her we’d be there.’ Oliver emphasised the ‘we’. ‘She called me to remind me this afternoon.’
    Doing his usual power-play thing: making his son choose between his old family and his new one. Even after all these years Isabel hadn’t quite forgiven Rachel for Oliver doing something against his family’s wishes—as if Oliver wasn’t a grown man, perfectly able to make his own decisions. ‘Look, Sophie’s ill and she wants me with her. Your mother understands that a babysitter—even someone Sophie knows really well, like Ginny—just isn’t an option.’ Though Isabel had made it very clear she considered it a feeble excuse on Rachel’s part. No doubt that was why she’d phoned Oliver, expecting him to pressure Rachel into going. Stupid, really, when Rachel didn’t even fit in with the Bedingfields’ social set. She still had the wrong accent, even though her Geordie accent had softened over the years.
    Hell. She was sleep-deprived and she really didn’t feel like facing the Bedingfields tonight. The barbs she usually managed to ignore would go deep. Why couldn’t Isabel just have accepted the situation? Why had she had to put that extra little bit of pressure on Oliver—pressure neither of them needed right now?
    â€˜My mother’s relying on us to help,’ Oliver said, his mouth thinning.
    No. More like Nigel’s come up with one of his flimsy excuses for not being there, and she wants to boast about one of her sons, Rachel thought grimly. The one who can be relied on. The one she takes for granted. The one who’s still good-natured enough to run around after her and not mind when she drops him like a hot potato the second that her precious Nigel makes an appearance. ‘Sorry. Sophie comes first.’
    Oliver’s eyes narrowed, as if he suspected she was beingcritical about him. Oh, for goodness’ sake! It wasn’t about him and his bloody family. It was about the fact that their daughter was ill and wanted at least one parent at home with her. ‘And I could do with an early night, to catch up on the sleep I missed last night.’ When she, not Oliver, had comforted their daughter.
    â€˜Of course.’ A muscle flickered in his jaw.
    â€˜Go and have a nice time,’ Rachel said, giving him a placating smile. Bloody Isabel. She must have some kind of sixth sense, to know just when things weren’t going that well between Oliver and Rachel and just where to bring the extra pressure to bear. Sometimes Rachel thought that Isabel would prefer the stigma—in Isabel’s eyes, at least—of having a divorced son to having a daughter-in-law with the wrong accent.
    â€˜Right. Well,