“I don’t know.” His fingers flew over the keyboard. “It’s for you. The front desk had it when I went to check messages and send a fax. It came on the flight from Heathrow.”

Mandy went to the table and leaned to read the label. Right in front of Damien. Dangling her breasts in front of him like really big carrots. It wasn’t subtle, but she had only two days to work with.

He made a strange coughing noise.

She would have turned to check on the promising sound, but the behemoth package was from her mother. Mandy laughed in comprehension. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, it’s from my mother.” She untied the bow on top and let down the cellophane wrap. “It’s a food hamper from Fortnum and Mason.”

She lifted the lid as Damien shoved his chair back and stood up. He peered over her shoulder. “Food hamper?”

“Yes.” She grinned at him and pulled out some strawberry jam and Darjeeling tea. “Hungry?” There were biscuit tins and a variety of cheeses, crackers, marmalade, and lemon curd. Her stomach rumbled in anticipation. “Mother is worried I’ll starve or eat bad fruit in this heathen tropical country.”

“She sent this from London? I can only imagine what that must have cost.” Damien shook a tin. “Chocolate cookies. Good stuff.”

“Cost is no object when Mother thinks she’s right.” But for the first time, Mandy saw beyond her mother’s desire to maintain strict control over every aspect of her life. “But you know, I think I finally understand. A mother’s fears aren’t always rational, but they’re born of love. I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated just how my mother feels about me until right now.”

Damn it, she was going to get weepy. Just when she was trying to prove to Damien that her pregnancy was irrelevant to their relationship, she went and turned into a hormonal watering pot.

Damien didn’t stop to think about what he was doing. He just wrapped his arms around Mandy and pulled her into his chest. She gave a little sniffle and sank against him with a sigh.

His heart raced as he held her there, patting her back. He hadn’t held a woman like this in so long, hadn’t felt he had any comfort to give. And Mandy was so, so different from Jess. His wife had used tears to manipulate, to wrench guilty apologies from him, to gloss over her own transgressions.

Those very thoughts now—unkind, scrutinizing thoughts of Jessica’s flaws—made him feel guilty all over again. He hadn’t loved her well enough in life, and he couldn’t get it right in death either.

Mandy was looking up at him. He could feel the weight of her brown eyes studying him. But he looked over her shoulder as she spoke, unable to bear the openness she was wearing on her face.