Lucy Gordon - For His Little Girl

"You're wonderful. It's just that I promised myself I wouldn't do this. And I guess I'm not very honest, because if I'd meant it I'd have stopped seeing you and put myself out of the way of temptation. I wanted you so much, and sooner or later I was bound to give in."

"But why shouldn't you?"

''Because of the way you are, because of the way I am. I won't stick around, Pippa. I never do. When my permit expires, I'm back off to Los Angeles, on my own. It's like you said-ships that pass in the night."

She shrugged. "I knew that. So what?" It was easy to say when the glorious months stretched out ahead.

"Well-you're special. You deserve a man who'll be there-"

"You mean Mr. Solid and Reliable, who'll march me to the altar and give me a semidetached house in the suburbs and a dozen kids? No, thank you! I left Encaster to escape him."

"If there's one thing I'm not, it's Mr. Solid and Reliable."

"If you were, we wouldn't be lying here like this."

How much of that brave talk had she meant, or thought she meant? And how much was just saying what she knew he wanted to hear? She never really knew. If he wanted her to be cool about it, then cool she would be. There were months to make him change his mind.

With her acute sensitivity to Luke's moods, Pippa began to see life through his eyes. On a walk in the park one evening, she couldn't help noticing the little family of two prematurely middle-aged parents and one demanding child.

"Daddy, listen to me-"

"In a minute, darling."

"No, now Daddy, now!"

The woman sounded testy. "It wouldn't hurt you to take some notice of your own daughter once in a while."

"I might if she'd shut up occasionally."

Luke grinned. "Poor sod!" he said. "Once he was a free man. Now he can't remember what it felt like."

Wearily the man looked down at the little tyrant. "All right, pet, what is it?"

"Come and look here. There's a caterpillar, a great big one."

Luke and Pippa strolled on, arms about each other, and the piercing voice seemed to follow them.

"Come and look now , Daddy. Daddy, Daddy Daddy !"

"Daddy, Daddy, DADDY !" Josie's voice rose a note higher on each word.

Give him his due, Pippa thought, Luke reacted magnificently, sweeping his daughter up into his arms and crying, "There's my special girl!" in a glad voice.

They surveyed each other, considering, sizing up. Pippa almost laughed at the uncanny mirror image of their attitudes. Their faces weren't alike but their movements, their way of holding their heads back at a slight angle that said "Oh, yeah?" were identical.

Luke deposited the child gently on the floor and turned to Pippa, arms open. As he pulled her close he muttered into her ear, "Bless you as an answer to a prayer."

Over his shoulder she saw Dominique, and things began to fall into place. Not everything, but enough to understand that Luke was "on the ran" again.

He released her. "Pippa, my love, this is Dominique-a friend. Dominique, this is Pippa, who I was just now telling you about."

All Pippa's antennae were on full alert and she saw everything, even the very small tightening of the other woman's mouth at "a friend."

Dominique stood with her robe slipping open just enough to show that she was naked underneath. She held out a beautifully manicured hand, surveying Pippa in a way that was obviously meant to be intimidating. She smiled back, refusing to be awed.

"Better put some clothes on," Luke said, an arm around Dominique's shoulders, urging her to the door. "And don't you have an appointment in an hour?"

"Three hours, actually," the model said glacially.

"Well, you don't want to be late, do you?" Luke switched his attention to Pippa and Josie. "Where are your bags?"

"At the airport hotel."

"You're not staying in any hotel," he said, outraged. "My family stays with me. I'll have the spare room ready in no time. You'll love it."

"Thank you. As long as I'm not putting you out-" this was to Dominique.

"Not at all," the other woman drawled, adding with meaning, " I wasn't sleeping in the spare room.''

"I'm sure you weren't," Pippa said, meeting her eyes evenly.

Luke had slipped away to talk to Bertha, who cleaned for him and had just arrived. Dominique lowered her voice, indicating the photograph. "Don't kid yourself, honey! That picture never appeared before today."

Pippa's lips twitched. "Really? He must have needed it very urgently-today."

"Oh, you're very funny! But I know a con whan I see one."

"I'm sure you do. It takes one to know one, doesn't it?"

Dominique flounced away, too wise to answer this.

It might have been a lot worse, Pippa realized. As it was, she'd had a welcome better than her brightest hopes, even if it was because she was saving his skin. That reference to "my family" had been for Dominique's benefit of course, but it had been just what Josie needed to hear.

Luke returned, smiling, and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Let me look at you. Oh, Pippa, you're a sight for sore eyes."

"So I gathered," she teased.

"No, not just because of that. After all this time you're just-just my Pippa."

"Hey, what am I ?" Josie demanded indignantly.

"You're my best girl," he said at once, and hugged her. "Now, first things first. Coffee, then the hotel."

"I'm hungry," Josie declared.

"Josie!" Pippa exclaimed. "Manners!"

"Of course she's hungry," Luke said. "Milk and strawberry salad."

"You can't put strawberries in a salad," Josie protested.

"You can, chez Luke."

Josie looked puzzled, and he explained, " Chez means at the home of . It's French. I use it when I want to impress people."

"You said milk," Josie reminded him in the accents of a starving orphan.

"Coming up!"

While he was finding the milk and pouring it for her, Bertha returned to say the room was ready. Pippa slipped away with her, while Luke got to work on the strawberry salad, collecting strawberries, raspberry vinegar, mint and lettuce.

"This is a concoction of Luke of the Ritz," he declared, lining up a selection of other fruits like a general inspecting his troop. "Sour cream," he added briskly. "That cupboard over there."

Josie moved fast and brought the cream, just right.

"Now some honey. That one."

She repeated the action, practically standing to attention when she'd delivered the honey.

"Who was Luke of the Ritz?" she asked. "You?"

"No, but I nearly was. Can you open that door next to the sink, please?" She did so, and he took out his electric blender.

"Why nearly?"

"Because your mommy thought people would die laughing. She was right, too." As he spoke he was washing the strawberries, then preparing to stem and halve them.

''I can do that,'' Josie said, taking a knife.

"Hey, no! That's too sharp for you." But he fell silent as he saw how efficiently she got to work. "Done it before, huh?"

"I help in the kitchen at home. Mummy says don't touch sharp knives, but I can handle them, so I do, anyway."

"Guess you do," he murmured, watching the neat little fingers flying and recalling another child who'd done what he wanted rather than what his mother said. "And what does she say about that?"

"Well-" Josie stopped for a moment to consider "-she starts to say things like, 'Do as I tell you,' and 'Josie, did you hear me?' But then Jake puts his head around the door and says, 'Hey, Pip, I'm on early shift. Is it ready yet?' Or Harry gets upset because he's lost something important. Harry's always losing things that he says are important. Or Paul comes in covered in axle grease-Paul restores old cars-or Derek-"

"Whoa, hold on there! Who are all these guys?"