Mr. Insatiable by Serenity Woods Page A

that stopped her speaking out was she knew he was right. Kit did deserve to have a real family. Hadn’t he told her himself that he wanted one? John was trying to protect him, and she couldn’t blame him for that. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be to be adopted, and not have the security of knowing where you came from or who your parents were. Kit wouldn’t want his children to go through the same thing. John was right, even if it did sting.
    “Of course.” She forced herself to smile. “You only want the best for your son. And so do I. I have no intention of taking our relationship further. Don’t worry, John. I won’t lead him on.”
    The lights changed, and he pulled away. The flinty look faded from his eyes. “I’m sorry, Enya. I must sound cruel to you.”
    “Not at all. I hope my father would be as defensive of me. That’s what parents are for.”
    He seemed relieved that she’d understood. “I hope the two of you have a nice time in Beijing, anyway.”
    “Yes, it should be good fun. I’m looking forward to it.”
    He nodded.
    They didn’t talk again until they reached Kit’s house.
    Over a year before, while he was still with Beatrix, Kit had bought himself a house in Newmarket. It was a pleasant home, with three decent-sized bedrooms and a living room overlooking a beautiful garden full of jacaranda and pohutukawa trees. Enya had puzzled over why he hadn’t asked Beatrix to move in with him at the time, and she wondered now whether things had already been going wrong between the two of them. It would make a lovely family home, and she could almost see it full of three or four children, possibly with a dog causing added chaos, Kit holding a toddler in one arm as he played soccer with another. The thought filled her with sadness, and as John pulled up, she took a shaky breath to gather herself before she got out of the car.
    Kit came out carrying a hold-all and his laptop case, looking bright and breezy in a sky-blue shirt under a black V-neck sweater and faded jeans.
    “Morena,” he said to his father, the Māori word for good morning. He placed his luggage in the trunk of the car and held Enya’s upper arm as he gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Hey you, all ready?”
    Enya forced away the warm glow that enveloped her as he approached. He kissed her on the cheek, and she stiffened, conscious of John’s eyes on them. “Yep, ready to go.” She turned away from his hand, opening the passenger door and sliding in.
    He hesitated, but his father was already walking around the car, so he got into the front seat and buckled himself in, and John started the engine and pulled away.
    “Bit of an early start,” Kit said cheerfully. “Can’t remember the last time I got up before eight.” Enya and John both mumbled their agreement, and Kit turned in the seat, raising an eyebrow. “Okay, what’s going on?”
    “Nothing,” Enya said, smiling at him. “I’m still half asleep. What time’s the flight again?”
    “Seven.” Kit still looked suspicious, but he didn’t press it, although he gave his father a frown. But John changed the subject, asking what their itinerary was, and they spent the fifteen or so minutes’ drive to the airport talking about what Charlie had planned for them, as well as the visit to the fireworks factory.
    At the airport, John helped them out with their luggage and shook hands with his son.
    “Stay safe,” he commanded. Then he came over to Enya. She had to force herself not to step back as he kissed her on the cheek, resentment still burning inside her, even though she understood why he’d said what he said.
    “I’ll be back to pick you up on Friday night at eleven,” he told them, and got back in the car and drove away. Enya watched him go, relieved to be alone with Kit at last.
    “Okay,” he said, shouldering his laptop case and picking up his bag. “Out with it. What’s he said?”
    “John? Nothing.” She feigned a look of surprise. “Which