- -
- 100%
- +
They were having the time of their lives and, within moments, Chloe was climbing into a proper shiny black London taxi and her excitement mounted as they whizzed along busy rain-slick streets filled with other taxis and cars and bright red double-decker London buses. Ahead, on a pedestrian crossing, people huddled beneath umbrellas glistening with rain.
Zac asked the taxi driver to stop at their hotel to leave their luggage and Chloe caught a brief impression of huge glass doors, massive urns filled with greenery and enormous gold-framed mirrors in a white marbled foyer.
‘Now, we’d better head straight to the Metropolitan Police,’ Zac said when he returned.
‘Yes.’ Chloe dug out her phone and checked the arrangements she’d made for Zac to meet with Sergeant Davies. She gave their driver the address and then they were off again.
Three blocks later, they had stopped at traffic lights when she saw the trio of soldiers. The tall, broad-shouldered men were simply standing and chatting as they waited to cross a road, but all it took was the sight of their camouflage uniforms and berets to bring back memories of Sam.
It could still happen like that, even though she’d had three and a half years to recover. The smallest trigger could bring the threat of desperate black grief.
Not now...I can’t think about him now...
But now, on the far side of the world with her handsome boss, this painful memory was a timely reminder of the heartache that came with falling in love. Chloe knew she had to be super-careful...and she was grateful she’d trained herself to think of Zac as nothing but her boss...glad that she’d become an expert at keeping a tight lid on any deeper feelings...
At the police station, Sergeant Davies was very solicitous as he ushered them into his office. He told them that Liv’s death had been clearly accidental and there was no reason to refer it to the coroner.
‘The young man who was driving your sister to the hospital is definitely in the clear,’ he added. ‘He’s a Good Samaritan neighbour. He was injured, but he’s going to be OK. A badly broken leg, I believe.’
Zac sat stiffly, his face as grim as granite, as he received this news.
‘We’ll be laying serious charges against the driver of the other car,’ the sergeant then told them.
‘Driving under the influence?’ Zac asked.
This was answered by a circumspect nod of assent.
Zac sighed and closed his eyes.
* * *
Outside, Chloe wanted to suggest that they found somewhere for a coffee. She was sure Zac could do with caffeine fortification, but perhaps she shouldn’t have been surprised that he was determined to push on with his unhappy mission. At work he always preferred to confront the unpleasant tasks first. It was one of the things she’d always admired about him.
Within moments of hitting the pavement, he hailed another taxi and they were heading for the cold reality of the Royal London Hospital.
Once there, Zac insisted on seeing his sister, but as Chloe watched him disappear down a corridor, accompanied by a dour-looking doctor in a lab coat, she was worried that it might be a mistake. Her fears were more or less confirmed when Zac returned, white-faced and gaunt, looking about ten years older.
She had no idea what to say. There was no coffee machine in sight, so she got him a drink of water in a paper cup, which he took without thanking her and drank in sips, staring at the floor, his eyes betraying his shock.
Eventually, Chloe couldn’t bear it. She put an arm around his shoulders and gave him a hug.
He sent her a sideways glance so full of emotion she felt her sympathetic heart swell to bursting. He offered her a nod, as if to say thanks, but he didn’t speak. She was quite sure he couldn’t speak.
For some time they sat together, with their overcoats bundled on the bench beside them, before one of the hospital staff approached them, a youngish woman with bright red hair. ‘Mr Corrigan?’
Zac lifted his gaze slowly. ‘Yes?’
The woman’s eyes lit up with the predictable enthusiasm of just about any female who met Zac. ‘I’m Ruby Jones,’ she said, holding onto her bright smile despite his grimness. ‘I’m the social worker looking after your case.’
‘Right. I see.’ Zac was on his feet now. ‘I guess you want to speak to me about the...the child?’
‘Yes, certainly.’ Ruby Jones offered him another sparkling smile, which Chloe thought was totally inappropriate. ‘Am I right in imagining that you’d like to meet your niece?’
‘Meet her?’ Zac looked startled.
‘Yes, she’s just on the next floor in the maternity ward.’
‘Oh, yes, of course.’ He turned to Chloe. ‘You’ll come, too, won’t you?’
‘Yes, if you like.’
Ruby, the social worker, looked apologetic. ‘I’m afraid—in these situations, we usually only allow close family members into—’
‘Chloe is family,’ Zac intervened, sounding more like his usual authoritarian self.
Chloe stared at the floor, praying that she didn’t blush, but it was a shock to hear Zac describe her as family. She knew it was an expedient lie, but for a crazy moment her imagination went a little wild.
‘I’m sorry.’ Ruby sounded as flustered as Chloe felt. ‘I thought you mentioned a PA.’
Zac gave an impatient flick of his head. ‘Anyway, you couldn’t count this child’s close family on two fingers.’ He placed a commanding hand at Chloe’s elbow. ‘Come on.’
Chloe avoided making eye contact with Zac as the social worker led them to the lift, which they rode in silence to the next floor.
‘This way,’ Ruby said as they stepped out and she led them down a hallway smelling of antiseptic, past doorways that revealed glimpses of young women and bassinets. From all around were sounds of new babies crying and, somewhere in the distance, a floor polisher whined.
Zac looked gloomy, as if he was hating every minute.
‘Have you ever been in a maternity ward before?’ Chloe asked him out of the side of her mouth.
‘No, of course not. Have you?’
‘Once. Just to visit a friend,’ she added when she saw his startled glance.
Ahead of them, the social worker had stopped at a glass door and was talking to a nurse. She turned to them. ‘If you wait here at this door, we’ll wheel the baby over.’
Zac nodded unhappily.
Chloe said, ‘Thank you.’
As the two women disappeared, Zac let out a heavy sigh. His jaw jutted with dismal determination as he sank his hands deep into his trouser pockets. Chloe was tempted to reach out, to touch him again, to give his elbow an encouraging squeeze, but almost immediately the door opened and a little trolley was wheeled through.
She could see the bump of a tiny baby beneath a pink blanket, and a hint of dark hair. Beside her, she heard her boss gasp.
‘Oh, my God,’ he whispered.
The trolley was wheeled closer.
‘So here she is.’ The nurse was middle-aged and hearty and she gave Zac an encouraging smile. ‘She’s a proper little cutie, this one.’
Chloe couldn’t help taking a step closer. The nurse was right. The baby was incredibly cute. She was sound asleep and lying on her back, giving them a good view of her perfectly round little face and soft skin and her tiny nose—and, yes, her perfectly darling rosebud mouth—just as Chloe had imagined.
The baby gave a little stretch and one tiny hand came out from beneath the blanket, almost waving at them. There was a hospital bracelet around her wrinkled wrist. Chloe saw the name Corrigan written on it and a painful lump filled her throat.
Zac was staring at the baby with a kind of awestruck terror.
‘So what do you think of your niece, Mr Corrigan?’ asked Ruby, the social worker.
He gave a dazed shake of his head. ‘She’s tiny.’
‘Her birth weight was fine,’ the nurse said, sounding defensive, as if Zac had directly criticised her hospital. ‘At least seven pounds.’
The social worker chimed in again. ‘Would you like to hold her?’
Now Zac looked truly horrified. ‘But she’s asleep,’ he protested, keeping his hands rammed in his pockets and rocking back on his heels as if he wished he could escape. For Chloe, by contrast, the urge to pick the baby up and cuddle her was almost overwhelming, as the maternal yearnings that she’d learned to suppress came suddenly rushing back.
She saw a frowning look exchanged between the nurse and the social worker and she worried that this was some kind of test that Zac had to pass before they could consider handing the baby into his care.
‘Go on,’ Chloe urged him softly. ‘You should hold her for a moment. You won’t upset her. She probably won’t even wake up.’
* * *
Zac felt as if the air had been sucked from his lungs. He couldn’t remember when he’d ever felt so out of his depth. The nurse was peeling back the pink blanket to reveal a tiny baby wrapped tightly in another thinner blanket. This was going to happen. They were going to hand her to him and he couldn’t back out of it.
‘Our little newborns feel safer when they’re swaddled firmly like this. It also makes them easier to hold,’ the nurse said as she lifted the sleeping bundle.
Reluctantly, Zac drew his hands from his pockets and hoped they weren’t shaking.
‘Just relax,’ the nurse said as she placed the baby in his arms.
Relax? She had to be joking. It was all right for her. She did this every day. He was still getting over the agony of seeing Liv. And now he was so scared he might drop her baby...
She was in his arms.
He could feel the warmth of Liv’s baby reaching him through the thin wrap. Could feel her limbs wriggling. Oh, dear God, she was so real. Alive and breathing. He forced himself to look down into her little pink face, so different from the deathly white one he’d so recently witnessed...
And yet...the similarity was there...
He found it so easily in the baby’s soft dark hair, in the delicate curve of her fine dark eyebrows, and in the tiniest suggestion of a cleft in her dainty chin.
‘Oh, Liv.’
His sister’s name broke from him on a desolate sob. His vision blurred as his throat was choked by tears.
* * *
Chloe’s heart almost broke when she saw the silver glitter in Zac’s eyes.
Even now, under these most difficult circumstances, it was a shock to see her boss cry. Zac was always so in control. In the day-to-day running of his business, it didn’t matter how worried or upset or even angry he was, he never lost his cool. Never.
He usually viewed any kind of trouble as a challenge. In fact, there were days when he seemed to thrive on trouble and conflict. Twice, to her knowledge, he’d taken his company to the very brink of economic peril, but he’d never lost his nerve and had emerged triumphant.
Of course, there was a huge gulf between the challenges of the business world and a personal heartbreaking tragedy.
Now Zac Corrigan, her fearless boss, was caught in the worst kind of heartbreak and he was shaking helplessly as tears streamed down his face.
‘Here,’ he said, thrusting the baby towards Chloe. ‘Please, take her.’
Her own emotions were unravelling as she hastily dumped their coats to accept the warm bundle he pressed into her arms. The poor man had been through so much—too much—in such a short time and, on top of everything else, he was dealing with jet lag. But, even though he had every reason to weep, Chloe knew he would be mortified to break down like this in public.
She wasn’t at all surprised when Zac turned from them and strode back down the corridor, his head high and his shoulders squared as he drew deep breaths and fought for composure.
Watching him, she held the baby close, inhaling the clean and milky smell of her. She thought how perfectly she fitted in her arms.
Beside her, Ruby, the social worker, said, ‘It’s such a very sad situation.’
Indeed, Chloe agreed silently.
The baby squirmed now and beneath the blanket she gave a little kick against Chloe’s ribs. Chloe wondered if this was how it had felt for Liv when she’d been pregnant. Such a short time ago.
Oh, help. If she allowed herself to think about that, she’d start weeping, too.
Perhaps it was just as well that she was distracted by Zac’s return. He seemed sufficiently composed—although still unnaturally pale.
‘I’m so sorry for your loss,’ the nurse said.
Zac held up a hand and gave a brief nod of acknowledgement. ‘Thank you.’ His manner was curt but not impolite. Then he said, in his most businesslike tone, ‘I guess you need to bring me up to speed.’ He shifted his now steady gaze to the social worker. ‘What’s the current situation? Has anyone been able to locate the father?’
Ruby shook her head. ‘I’m afraid we’ve had no luck at all.’
‘You’ve definitely ruled out the fellow who was in the car with Liv?’
‘Yes.’
At this news, Zac looked bleaker than ever.
‘We’ve also interviewed the people who lived in the share house with your sister,’ Ruby said next. ‘But they haven’t been able to help us. They said Olivia wouldn’t tell anyone the father’s name. She simply told them that he wouldn’t be interested in a child and she didn’t want anything more to do with him.’
Zac stared at her for a long moment, his grey eyes reflecting a stormy mix of emotions. Eventually he nodded. ‘That sounds like my sister, I’m afraid. But there was a boyfriend. I’m pretty sure Liv was still with him last Christmas. An Australian. A singer in a band.’
‘Bo Stanley?’
Zac nodded grimly. ‘Yes, I’m pretty sure that’s his name.’
Again, she shook her head. ‘A housemate did mention him and he’s still in the UK, so we made contact and had him tested. It was easy to disqualify him. He’s completely the wrong blood type.’
This time, Zac stared at her as if he was sure she had to be mistaken, but eventually he gave an unhappy shake of his head and shrugged. ‘I guess he’s off the hook, then.’
In Chloe’s arms, the baby gave a little snuffling snort. When Chloe looked down she saw that her eyes had opened. The baby blinked and stared up at Chloe, straight into her eyes.
How much could those newborn dark grey eyes see? The baby’s expression was definitely curious. Trusting, too. Her intense, seemingly focused gaze pierced Chloe’s heart and she was enveloped by a rush of warmth, a fierce longing to protect this tiny, sweet girl. It would be so easy to love her.
She realised that Zac was watching her.
His gaze lingered on her as she stood there with the baby in her arms. Surprise flared in his eyes and then a softer emotion. Chloe held her breath and for a winded moment her mind played again with hopelessly ridiculous possibilities...
Fortunately, Zac quickly recovered. ‘OK,’ he said, looking quickly away and becoming businesslike again. ‘I guess my next question is about the baby.’
‘What would you like to know?’ the nurse asked guardedly.
‘Is she healthy?’
‘Perfectly.’ She sniffed as if his question had offended her. ‘You would have been informed before now if there was a problem.’ Then, more gently, she asked, ‘Do you have a particular concern?’
Zac grimaced uncomfortably. ‘My sister had a drug habit, or at least she used to.’ He shot a quick glance to Chloe and then looked away, as if he was embarrassed to have his employee hear this admission. ‘It was some time back,’ he added quickly. ‘And Liv assured me she’s been clean ever since, but I assume you’ve run the necessary tests?’
‘Yes, Mr Corrigan. I can reassure you there were no signs that the baby has been adversely affected by alcohol or drugs.’
‘Well, that’s good news at least.’ He swallowed. ‘So...’ Looking from the nurse to the social worker, he summoned a small smile, a glimmer of his customary effortless charm. ‘What’s next?’
Ruby, the social worker, was clearly surprised. ‘Well...as you’re next of kin and you’ve been named as guardian—’
‘Yes, I’ve brought a copy of my sister’s will if you need to see it.’
‘And you’ve come all the way from Australia,’ Ruby continued. ‘I—I mean we were assuming that you planned to care for the baby.’
Zac nodded and his throat worked as he swallowed again.
Chloe knew he felt overwhelmed. He’d fielded successive shocks in the past twenty-four hours and she felt compelled to speak up. ‘We’ve only just arrived from Heathrow and Mr Corrigan hasn’t had any time to adjust, or to buy any of the things the baby will need.’
The nurse nodded. ‘Of course. I understand.’
Shooting Chloe a grateful look, Zac added, ‘If the baby could remain in your care for a little longer, I’d be happy to pay for any additional costs.’
This could be arranged, they were told, and Zac was also given a list of funeral parlours, as well as the name and address of Liv’s share house, so that he could collect Liv’s belongings. On that sobering note, they departed.
* * *
Outside the hospital a brisk December wind whipped at them, lifting their hair and catching at the ends of their scarves. Standing on the footpath on Whitechapel Road, Zac almost welcomed the wind’s buffeting force and the sting to his cheeks. He dragged in an extra deep lungful of chilled air, as if it might somehow clear the raw pain and misery that roiled inside him. But there was no way he could avoid the two images that kept swimming before his vision. The pale, bruised, lifeless face of his beautiful sister and the small, red, but very much alive face of her tiny newborn daughter.
His niece.
His new responsibility.
The frigid air seemed to seep into Zac’s very blood along with this chilling reality. This baby, this brand new human being had no other family. He was it. She would be completely dependent on him.
He shot a glance to Chloe, whose cheeks had already turned quite pink from the cold. The high colour made her look unexpectedly pretty and he thought how fabulous she’d been this morning. In fact, his decision to bring his PA with him to London had been a stroke of pure genius. On the long flight, at the police station and again at the hospital, Chloe’s no-fuss efficiency and quiet sympathy had been exactly the kind of support he’d needed.
‘I vote we go back to the hotel now,’ he said. ‘We can check in and get a few things sorted.’
Chloe nodded. ‘I’ll check out those funeral parlours, if you like. It might be hard to find a—a place—with Christmas and everything.’
Zac was about to agree, but then he remembered the heartbreaking decisions he might be required to make. ‘I’d better talk to them, Chloe. Anyway, you’re probably exhausted.’
‘I feel fine, actually.’ She smiled. ‘Being outside and grabbing a breath of fresh air makes all the difference.’
You’re a breath of fresh air, he almost told her, and then thought better of it. Even minor breaches of their boss-PA boundaries seemed to make Chloe uncomfortable and now that she’d given up her Christmas and had come all this way, he didn’t want to upset her. Instead he said, ‘And I’ll also make contact with the share house people.’
‘Yes, it might be worth finding out what Liv’s already bought before you start shopping.’
Zac frowned. Suddenly, his mega-sensible PA wasn’t making any sense at all. ‘Shopping?’
‘For the baby.’
‘Oh.’ He gulped nervously. ‘Yes, of course.’
A vision of a mountain of nappies and prams and tins of formula mushroomed in Zac’s imagination. He felt overwhelmed again as he raised a hand to hail their taxi.
In a matter of moments, they were heading back into the city centre. Chloe leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. She was probably worn out, even though she’d denied it. Zac had never seen her like this—with her eyes closed, her dark lashes lying softly against her flushed cheeks, her lips relaxed and slightly open.
She looked vulnerable and he found his attention riveted...
This wasn’t the first time he’d entertained the idea of kissing Chloe, of making love to her, but, just as he had on the other occasions, he quickly cut off the thought.
From the start, when he’d first employed Chloe, he’d quickly recognised her value as his PA and he’d set himself clear rules. No office affairs. Ever.
Of course, there’d been times when he’d wished to hell that he wasn’t so principled where Chloe was concerned. More than once they’d been deep in a business discussion when he’d been completely distracted by her quiet beauty, but it was almost certainly for the best that his common sense had always prevailed.
And now, once again, Zac dismissed ideas of tasting her softly parted lips and he wrenched his thoughts back to his new responsibilities.
A tiny baby...such an alarming prospect for a commitment-shy bachelor. If he took Liv’s little daughter into his care, she would rely on him for everything—for food, for shelter, clothes...love. As she grew older she would look up to him for wise guidance, for entertainment, for security. She would require vast amounts of his time and patience.
No doubt she would view him as her father.
Her daddy...
The thought brought shivers fingering down Zac’s spine. He couldn’t deny he’d been hoping that the baby’s biological father would emerge and make a claim, but he’d also been worried by the prospect. Knowing Liv, the guy was bound to be a no-hoper. Now, the possibility of a father galloping up on a white charger to save the day was fast disappearing and this left Zac with a different, but equally worrying set of problems...centring on his own, very real inadequacies...
He was very aware that his personal life was at best...haphazard...but there was a good reason for that—in more recent years he’d been making up for lost time.
Liv had been so young when their parents died, and for many years Zac had made her his first priority. He’d juggled several part-time jobs so that he could be at home for as much of Liv’s out-of-school time as possible.
It was only after Liv had turned eighteen and struck out on her own, that he’d decided he might as well have some fun, so when it came to dating women he’d been a late starter. By then he’d also discovered he had a head for business as well as a talent for attracting gorgeous girls. He’d enjoyed the combination of work and play so much that he hadn’t felt a need to settle down.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.