Читать книгу Their Unexpected Babies - Louisa Heaton, Louisa Heaton - Страница 9

DANCING WAS AN art form. There were those who could do it well, who looked as if they’d been born to dance. And there were those who did it badly—and Leah was one of them. Dancing might even be a bit too fancy a word for the moves her body was able to perform. Fancy swaying might be more realistic.

She felt awkward trying to do anything more complicated than that, being all angles and long limbs, like a newborn foal, trying to stay upright. It wasn’t her favourite thing to do and, quite frankly, she couldn’t wait for this to be over.

Just keep smiling! Pretend you’re having a great time.

Everyone else was having a great time. One or two had even paired off with a couple of guys who had bought them drinks. Thinking of which, she was beginning to get a little thirsty. She looked over at the bar, to see if there was much of a queue, and instead met a steady pair of beautiful blue eyes gazing back at her.

He was at the bar—the man in question. Holding a tall glass with what looked like water in it, condensation dripping down its sides. Black shirt, open at the collar. Black trousers.

She couldn’t look away. She wanted to, but he held her gaze, and somehow, before she knew it, he was standing in front of her.

‘May I have this dance?’

The old-fashioned request was charming. If he’d said anything else, come out with a cheesy line, then she would have raised a sardonic eyebrow and turned away, but his question—polite, gallant, charming—hit all her buttons.

She could feel her cheeks flushing and was thankful he wouldn’t be able to see that in the darkness. But the terrible thing about being in the dark was that it also made you throw a bit of caution to the wind. It created intimacy. And she couldn’t help but laugh.

‘You’ve seen me dance, right? The flailing?’

He smiled. ‘It was utterly charming.’

‘Charming?’

He leaned in. ‘Adorable.’

And she liked him. He smelt great. She didn’t know what it was, but she just felt secure with this guy. What was one more flail? They were in a public place. Nothing was going to happen.

‘Sure. Okay.’

She bit her lip as he led her to the centre of the dance floor, and just as she was about to begin the music changed. It was almost as if this man and the DJ were in cahoots, because the music switched from a frantic, heated rhythm to something slow and soulful. The kind of music that begged couples to dance in each other’s arms. Bodies pressed close. Intimate. Knowing.

She smiled and stepped shyly into his embrace, draping her arms over his shoulders as he pulled her to him.

He smelt delicious. Edible. A musky heat. And she closed her eyes as they swayed in tune together, sensing him inhale the scent of her shampoo as he lifted a tendril of her hair up to his nose. It was such an intimate gesture she felt shivers tremble down her spine, and her breath hitched in her throat as she wondered what he’d do next.

But he was a perfect gentleman. His hands didn’t wander and she found herself wondering about this man in her arms. Who was he? Where had he come from? What was his name?

Why was he so hot?

She let him have the next dance. And then the next. And when she had to sit down, to give her feet and ankles a rest from the vertiginous heels she had unwittingly chosen for that evening, he walked her over to a place to sit and helped her slip them off. He massaged her feet for her whilst she squirmed in delight on the banquette and thanked the heavens that she’d had a pedicure two days ago.

He looked at her and smiled. ‘Are you ticklish?’

‘A bit.’

‘Then I’ll be careful.’

She liked the way he held her feet firmly, determined not to tickle her, but to give her the maximum benefit of his strong, capable hands.

‘You know your way around a woman’s foot.’ Leah cringed once the words were out.

But he didn’t raise an eyebrow. ‘I know my way around many parts of the female anatomy.’

She blushed. The foot massage already had her biting her lip, trying her hardest not to moan and groan in delight at what was happening to her flesh, and his words made her wonder what magic he could cause in other places, with other parts of his anatomy?

But the thought was fleeting and quick. That wasn’t who she was, so she knew she didn’t have to worry about that. But somehow they got talking and chatting, and his name was Ben. So simple. So wonderful. It suited him.

She discovered they liked a lot of the same things—old movies, reading and the exact same brand of salted caramel chocolates—and when he learnt how close she lived he offered to give her a piggyback home.

‘A piggyback?’ she asked in amused disbelief. They weren’t kids.

‘You can’t dance in those shoes and you certainly can’t walk in them. I’m amazed you didn’t break an ankle just getting here.’

The idea of him walking her home thrilled her. She didn’t want to part company with him yet. But she didn’t want to do this alone. Just in case. He could be anyone.

Hannah offered to accompany them for safety. Her friend lived in the block opposite her own. As good as his word, Ben carried her all the way back, telling them jokes and making them laugh, paying attention to both women fairly, though it was clear his interest was in her. And when he gently set her down on her feet, her soles pressed against the chilly pavement, she impulsively offered him a coffee or a nightcap, not yet willing to say goodbye.

He’d smiled. ‘Coffee would be nice.’

Hannah waved them both goodbye, giving Leah a big thumbs-up sign in secret, when Ben wasn’t looking.

She smiled and fished her keys out of her bag.

What am I doing? I don’t do this. I don’t invite random guys back!

But another voice in her head said, Go for it! When are you going to get another chance?

So she made him coffee. And they sat together on the couch, drinking it until it was gone, and the tension in the room was palpable.

‘I should go.’ His voice was loaded with regret. ‘It was lovely spending a few hours with you, but I have an early start in the morning.’

She nodded. ‘Me, too.’

She wasn’t kidding either. She started a new job tomorrow. Going to the club had been in celebration of that.

He stood up and she stood with him. They were so close! Millimetres apart. Leah gazed up at his face, his mouth, and then he pulled her gently towards him and lowered his face to hers.

The kiss was perfect. Gentle.

Soft.

And then...

And then it wasn’t. And they couldn’t remove their clothes fast enough.

The touch of a finger trailing the length of her spine in a sinuous, serpentine stroke was enough to jerk her from the depths of a wonderful sleep to the stark, shocking reality that she was waking up with someone else in her bed.

Dr Leah Hudson’s eyes blinked open in an instant as recollections of the previous night poured in, and in a panic she grabbed the duvet to her chest and leapt from the bed, dragging the quilt around her naked body, stumbling over it as she turned to see the man she’d left behind in the bedsheets.

Ben. Handsome. Fit—even with bed hair and a shadow of early-morning stubble. The man who had known his way around the female anatomy very well indeed, as it turned out.

Her naked male companion had woken at her sudden movement, and now lay propped up on an elbow, smiling at her in an irritatingly charming and attractive way, the curls that only last evening had been perfectly tamed now wild and tangled. In no way did that diminish his appeal. Somehow it increased it. And he didn’t make any move to cover himself up. Deliciously confident man that he was. And she couldn’t stop her gaze from travelling down...down...

Red-faced, she looked up again.

She envied him his confidence in his body. Hers had always let her down.

Ignoring the pleasant tingling she could feel from their combined fun last night, she felt her cheeks flush with heat. What must she look like? She’d gone to the club with Hannah and the others in full-on partying mode—mascara, lipstick, glittery eyeshadow, for goodness’ sake! And after meeting the Adonis who now lay luxuriantly upon her comfiest blue cotton bedsheets she had brought him back to her place with the promise of a coffee or a nightcap and they had fallen into bed together without her having time to remove any of the muck from her face!

Did she look like a panda?

This was not like her at all. She wasn’t a woman who did this kind of thing—one-night stands. Not that there was anything wrong with it, if it suited the people involved. But she’d always imagined herself as the going-steady type, waiting before she’d allow anyone the intimacy of her bed. That might be boring to some, but it had suited her perfectly until last night. It had given her a standard to uphold so that she didn’t make her life complicated. Not letting anyone in because, really, what was the point? Life was complicated all on its own.

Now he lay on her bedsheets. Still here. The next morning! He wasn’t meant to have stayed.

‘Didn’t I say you had to go? Remember? Just after midnight?’

‘You exhausted me. I must have fallen asleep.’

He seemed oblivious to the fact that she wanted him out of there. Gorgeous or not. Seemed content to stay in her bed.

Leah clutched the quilt even tighter and glanced at her alarm clock beside the bed. Seven thirty-two a.m. She had slept with a strange man for over six hours, and him lying there looking like a wonderful breakfast delicacy was not helping. She had a new job to get to. An important job. Lives that might need saving.

Thinking about it, she really ought not to have agreed to going to the club.

‘Look, last night was great, but—’

‘Don’t say but. Nothing ever great happens after someone says but.’

She smiled. ‘But I’m going to take a shower, and when I get out of the shower I don’t want to find you’re still here. You need to...’ her gaze travelled along his wonderful torso, eyeing the hunk of gorgeousness she’d allowed herself last night ‘...put some clothes on and leave. Is that understood? You get what I’m saying, right?’

He nodded and smiled. ‘Seems a shame to end something so great.’

Embarrassingly delighted, she smiled back. ‘Maybe so, but that’s the way it’s going to be.’

She saw his trousers and designer underwear discarded on the floor of her living room, exactly where she’d torn them from his body, and picked them up, threw them at him.

‘Start with these.’ She gave him a broad, embarrassed smile. “It was a pleasure knowing you.’

Leah opened the shower door and listened for any strange sounds. The flat sounded pleasingly empty, so with one towel wrapped around her body and another around her hair, she unlocked her bathroom door and stepped out, listening once again just to make sure.

All she could hear were outside noises—singing birds, the odd car driving by. Nothing internal.

Thank God he’s gone!

What had she been thinking? To do such a thing! Sleep with a stranger! Was that the behaviour of an expectant mother? Okay, to be fair, she wasn’t the one expecting herself. She had a surrogate. Sally. Who was pregnant with Leah’s baby.

Perhaps that’s why I did it? One last mad fling? And I did choose a very nice candidate!

She smiled to herself. She would never find a guy like that in real life. And even if she did he’d probably run a mile as soon as she explained she was going to have a baby in seven months.

Leah paused to look into her spare room before she passed it. It was still filled with boxes from her recent move here. She really ought to get a move on and get it sorted into some sort of nursery. There was a cot in there somewhere, still waiting to be unfurled from its flat pack.

She padded through to her bedroom and then stopped, surprised.

He’s made the bed! Wow. Did I manage to find the only hot, sexy, neat-freak?

The pillows had been fluffed, the sheets and duvet straightened and smoothed. He’d even picked up the bed runner from the floor and put it back on. And what was that on her pillow?

She bent to pick up the small piece of paper. Unfolding it, she saw a telephone number and a short note.

We had fun. Call me.

Leah bit her lip and smiled. He liked her. Wanted to see her again! She picked up the phone and dialled.

‘Hello?’

‘Sally, it’s me. You’re never going to believe what I did last night. Or rather, who.’

She heard a gasp from the other end. ‘Naughty girl! Do tell. You know I’ve got to live vicariously through your adventures for the next two trimesters.’

Leah sank onto the edge of her bed. ‘His name was Ben and he...er...stayed over.’

‘What? Damn! I knew I should have tried harder to get babysitters for these monsters. Then I could have met him. Come on. I need details. What was he like? Tall? Dark, Handsome?’ She giggled. ‘Girthy?’

Leah laughed. ‘Yes, to all of those.’

‘You lucky girl.’

‘And he was also polite and charming and funny—and he made the bed before he left.’

‘You let him leave? He sounds like a keeper.’

‘He’s left me his number.’

‘So call him!’

‘I can’t do that! He’s only just gone. I need to leave it for a bit, don’t I? Act cool?’

‘Darling, you don’t do cool. Get your first day out of the way, then give him a ring. Have fun whilst you can. Make hay whilst the sun shines—isn’t that what they say?’

‘Who?’

‘I don’t know. Farmers?’

Leah laughed. ‘I’ve got to get ready for work. I did miss you last night.’

‘Clearly. Look, I’ve got to go—William’s just tipped orange juice over his brother.’

‘Okay. I’ll call you soon. Take care.’

‘Bye.’

She could just imagine Sally’s small brood descending into chaos. They were good kids, really. And she would have one of her own soon. Her own child. Thanks to Sally.

A man like Ben would probably run a mile at the sound of a baby. It wouldn’t bring the kind of sleepless nights he’d be interested in.

Regretfully, she screwed up the piece of paper and dropped it in the bin.

It was time to get ready for work.

The baby was screaming its head off.

If ever I needed to hear a healthy set of lungs...well, this kid’s got them.

Ben Willoughby smiled patiently at the mother as she tried her best to calm her distraught child, but her soothing words had no effect.

Clearly the baby did not like a strange man looming over him to try and listen to his heartbeat. Ben sat back. He felt sure the baby was absolutely fine, but it would be nice to check.

The mother had brought in the child, terrified by a strange rash that had appeared on her son’s legs, especially his knees and the tops of his feet. It was red and raw-looking.

Her son had no temperature. No signs of illness at all, in fact, and Ben was sure he knew exactly what the rash had been caused by. But he didn’t want this mother to feel as if she had wasted his time, so he was trying to be thorough and give the boy a check-up. Check-ups never hurt anyone.

‘We’ll wait for him to pipe down. I might get a nurse to distract him with bubbles or something—just so I can listen to his chest when he’s quiet.’

‘What do you think it is? Is it meningitis?’ The mother peered at him, frowning in concern.

He shook his head. ‘No, it’s nothing like that. He’s about eight months old?’

She nodded.

‘Just started crawling?’

Another nod.

‘I think it’s carpet burns.’

He’d had plenty of the damn things as a child himself, and occasionally still got them now, when he had to play uncle and get down on the floor and pretend to have a great time. If he was honest, he did have a good time, but there was no way he was going to admit it.

Everyone knew he wasn’t fond of kids. They were noisy and messy and they sucked away at your time and energies. They definitely weren’t for him, and they most certainly would not be in his future. He intended to have a life that was entirely dedicated to himself, even if that seemed selfish to everyone else.

Because he knew that he wasn’t. He was the least selfish person he knew. He gave everything of himself to others. Always had. But now his life was his own and he wanted it to stay that way. He’d seen what happened when you let other people get involved and it wasn’t pretty. He intended to steer away completely from messy relationships.

And that was how he’d always played things—until this morning. When he’d woken in Leah’s bed, completely satisfied, feeling warm and cosy and comfortable—until she’d stood up and yanked the quilt off him, anyway. He could still picture it. How embarrassed she’d looked. The charming flush that had bloomed in her cheeks. Her twinkling eyes. The way she’d thrown his clothes at him before she’d shuffled out of the room in her quilt cocoon.

Delightful.

And he wasn’t sure just what it was, but before he had left he had felt compelled to leave his number.

I never leave my number. I never ask for more.

He’d closed the door to her flat after fighting the strong temptation to join her in the shower and then stood there for a moment, unable to get back in, wondering if he’d made a mistake. Why break the habit of a lifetime?

He supposed he could screen his calls, but a part of him didn’t want to. And it wasn’t the part below his belt, strangely enough. It was in his head. He wanted to know more about the delicious minx he’d run into last night. More about the woman who’d made him smile with her own smile. Who’d made him feel amazed by her laughter. Whose capacity for dancing was equal to that of a newborn giraffe on rollerblades. Who’d awoken something within him that he’d never felt before...

‘Carpet burns? You’re sure?’

‘Absolutely.’ He pulled up the scrubs on his left leg to show her the carpet burns he had from being made to be a horse by his four-year-old niece Gemma. ‘I’ve got matching ones. But we’ll give him a proper check-over once he’s quiet.’

The mother blushed. ‘Oh, I feel so stupid.’

He smiled. ‘Don’t be. You’re entitled to worry about your baby.’

‘But I’ve wasted your time!’

‘No, you haven’t. It’s always important to get something checked if it concerns you. What if it had been something serious and you’d dismissed it? We’d rather it be a false alarm than something serious. Wouldn’t we?’

He gave another of his winning smiles, hoping the screaming child would soon be quiet, and the mother smiled back, thanking him.

‘I’ll be back in a few minutes.’

He left the cubicle, intending to fill in a chart or two and give the boy time to get his breath back, then glanced up to see how the waiting room was filling up.

And there she was.

The woman from last night, walking towards him in a floaty white blouse and a pencil-slim skirt that hugged in all the right places.

Leah.

She stopped upon seeing him.

He watched in delight as her cheeks flushed once again, and he knew that that was something he would never tire of seeing.

But why was she here? Was she hurt? Or had she known somehow where he worked and come to throw his telephone number back in his face?

‘Hi,’ he said, somewhat lost for words.

He never usually had this. The morning after. That awkward conversation. The embarrassed excuses. He got the good part—the flirting, the excitement, the kissing, the hot sex. He never had to worry about the afterwards because there never was one.

She looked like a startled deer. He saw her swallow.

‘Wh...what are you doing here?’