“I wasn’t expecting you to be such a skilled player,” Warren admitted to his biological mother. Her hair was thinning already, he noticed.

Sarah looked round, as though to check the coast was clear. “I go to a book club once a week—or what started out as a book club. Don’t tell Andy, but over the years it’s transformed into a poker club. Or poker and crocheting, at any rate.”

“Why crochet?” Kate frowned.

“When someone wants to watch instead of play, they can crochet. And we don’t play with real money; we play with little crocheted coins instead. I find it’s quite nice without having money involved. Like tonight,” Sarah gestured to her stack of chips, “it’s all very well and good but it’s a lot of money to lose.”

“As Darcy has discovered,” Kate added. “I’m not used to betting. My father… He ran a casino.”

“Oh! You must be a dab hand at all this then.”

Kate’s back pressed against his front, as though seeking support. “The last time I entered his casino was before Warren was sent to prison. I’ve never even placed a bet before tonight. He’s not a good person,” she admitted delicately. “Not a good father.”

Warren held her a little tighter.

“I suppose I didn’t want to gamble and find that I had a taste for it, like he does. It’s more important to him than even his own daughter.”

Sarah took Kate’s hand with a touch only a mother could provide. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. But you don’t have a taste for it, do you?”

Kate shook her head. “I don’t know whether that makes it better or worse.”

“In what way?”

“Because if it was some irresistible magnetic pull towards the gambling, it would be better.”

Sarah’s face was blank, but Warren understood. “But now you know he’s made a choice to put you last,” he said. “He didn’t abandon you because of the gambling. He abandoned you because he didn’t care enough to stay.”

The wobble in Kate’s lip told him he’d been right on the money.

“Kitten…” he murmured.

“Any parent who chooses vice over their child’s happiness is not worthy of the title,” Sarah reassured her fiercely, with an uncertain look at Warren. He could see the pleading there, plain as day. The pleading of a mother who’d given her son up for adoption in the hope he’d have a better life.

He gave her a small smile before tucking Kate under his arm. “Come on,” he told her. “You’ve had an emotional night, and it’s late. Let’s get you to bed.”

Saying goodbye to Sarah—and little Leo—he led Kate past the table at which Mattie played, Rhys and Saffron by his side, just as a victorious roar went up. Judging by the wide smile on Mattie’s face, he’d just won big, but Warren could congratulate him in the morning.

Or afternoon, judging by the empty glasses surrounding the players.

Kate, bless her, made it to his bedroom before breaking down. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, drawing in choking breaths even as she apologised, allowing Warren to engulf her in his arms. “It’s just the gambling andDarcyand—”

“What did Darcy do?”

The silence lasted so long it was as though he hadn’t said anything at all. Eventually, she gave him an answer. “Darcy has a father that loves her unconditionally, because shedeservesunconditional love,” Kate said bleakly, her eyes thick with tears. “I’m sorry for the pity party,” she tried to push away from him, but he held her firm. “I’ve had too much to drink.”

He began to unzip her dress, letting it fall to the floor for the second time that evening. She was naked beneath it, but he quashed any arousal beneath his skin. “You’re allowed to feel your feelings,” he told her, bending down to undo the clasps on her heels.

Once she’d stepped out of them, he guided her to the bed. “Lay down, kitten.” He gave her an encouraging smile when she obeyed. He sat level with her feet, taking them into his lap, kneading the reddened skin highlighting the path the straps had taken.

She began to relax then, letting out sighs laden with pleasure. Her sighs progressed to moans the longer he worked, until he left her feet to lavish attention on her ankles and calves. “You shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why?” he said mildly, hiding the annoyance prickling his veins.

“Because I don’t deserve it.”

He moved to massage her thighs, not missing the way they fell open, attempting to lure him between them. “You’re wet.”

Watching him through hooded eyes, she nodded, spreading them further. “Touch me. Please. I need you.”