The midwife’s pregnancy shock!

From the moment she sees Dr. Xavier O’Donnell, midwife Brighde Campbell knows how the night will end. In the gorgeous obstetrician’s arms, she can forget the closely kept reason she avoids commitment—but then she discovers she’s pregnant...

Finding out he’s going to be a father both shocks and delights Xavier, but Brighde seems intent on shutting him out. Her painful secret will test both their hearts, but can he convince Brighde that no matter what the future holds, they can face it together?

Brighde hesitated at the door to the hospital nursery.

She needed to collect a baby to take to her mother, but through the glass she could see Xavier. He was standing by a crib, holding a newborn, and Brighde was certain it was the one she was coming for.

She’d avoided him for twenty-four hours. Since the ultrasound. They hadn’t discussed it. She needed time to work out what she was going to do, and she suspected that Xavier hoped the ultrasound would make her change her mind. She hadn’t changed it yet, but she was wavering. And she couldn’t handle any increased pressure, however subtle, from him. She was barely holding things together without throwing additional emotions into the mix.

She took a minute to watch him holding the baby. He hadn’t seen her; he was too caught up in the moment. The baby was clutching his finger and looking up at him, no doubt transfixed by his mesmerizing eyes. Seemed like he had the same effect on females of all ages. His lips were moving as he held a one-sided conversation with the baby. He cradled the baby like an expert and she could just imagine him with his own child. He looked utterly gorgeous.

God, she wished things were different.

Dear Reader,

A feisty midwife and a gorgeous obstetrician with come-to-bed eyes... What could go wrong?

Plenty, it would seem. Starting with Huntington’s Disease.

HD is a genetically inherited disease that fortunately is fairly rare but, while advances were made in the late stages of last century, for which there is still no cure. It presents a lot of challenges and poses a lot of questions for which there is really no right or wrong answer. So, while the subject matter might not be the most light-hearted, it certainly made for an interesting storyline. I hope you can empathise with Brighde and stick with her as she searches for her happily-ever-after.

I’d love to hear from you if you’ve enjoyed this story or any of my others. You can visit my website, emily-forbesauthor.com, or drop me a line at emilyforbes@internode.on.net

Emily

One Night That Changed Her Life

Emily Forbes

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Books by Emily Forbes

Mills & Boon Medical Romance

The Christmas Swap

Waking Up to Dr Gorgeous

The Hollywood Hills Clinic

Falling for the Single Dad

Tempted & Tamed

A Doctor by Day...

Tamed by the Renegade

A Mother to Make a Family

His Little Christmas Miracle

A Love Against All Odds

Visit the Author Profile page

at millsandboon.co.uk for more titles.

For Felicity.

Thank you for your love and support.

It means so much to me that you read

and enjoy my stories! This one is for you xx

Wishing you a very Happy Birthday!

With all my love,

your goddaughter,

Emily

Praise for Emily Forbes

“Have your tissues ready because you are gonna need them...it’s that good! Prepare to be hooked on Medical Romance and Emily Forbes!”

—Goodreads on A Love Against All Odds

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

Booklist

Dedication

Praise

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

BRIGHDE HID BEHIND a conference banner as she stabbed her finger at the screen of her phone. Her hand was shaking as she tried to end the call and it took her two attempts to press the right spot. She took a deep breath, fighting to remember her yoga breathing as she fought back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

She was happy for Nick, really she was, but her brother’s phone call had confirmed her worst fears.

Good news for him could only mean bad news for her.

She struggled with the clasp of her bag, eventually managing to open it, and shoved her phone inside before snapping the clasp shut. She needed a drink. A strong one.

There were plenty of free drinks on offer in the hotel ballroom where one of the major pharmaceutical drug companies was hosting the end of conference party but Brighde didn’t feel like going back into the crowd. She needed space almost as much as she needed a drink.

The ballroom was on the hotel’s mezzanine floor but on the floor below she knew there was a bar adjoining the lobby. She looked at the staircase; the expanse of carpet between her and the stairs looked immense and she wasn’t sure if she’d make it. Her knees wobbled as she took the first step and she focused on putting one foot in front of the other until she could reach for the banister. She clutched it tightly, steadying herself for the descent. The simple task of negotiating a staircase suddenly seemed to require enormous effort. Was that a sign? She knew difficulty with motor skills was often one of the first obvious symptoms of the disease, impaired voluntary movements like gait and balance were hard to ignore, but surely that would be too much of a coincidence.

Get a hold of yourself, Brighde, she admonished herself. You’re only twenty-eight—you’re not about to fall apart yet.

She hoped she was right but it was hard to discount the feeling of mounting panic. Her chest was tight and she was finding it hard to breathe. She was surprised by her reaction to Nick’s phone call. She’d always suspected that she would be dealt the bad hand and she hadn’t expected to be so shocked.

This was what she’d always dreaded. It wasn’t exactly a surprise but, at the end of the day, it obviously didn’t matter how prepared she thought she was; the truth of it was no one wanted to know they were going to an early grave.

Somehow she managed to get down the stairs and into the bar on her wobbly legs without taking a tumble. She perched on a stool and ordered a vodka Martini. She had no idea if she liked Martinis—she drank vodka—but she felt she needed something more potent. Something that would numb the pain and a Martini sounded like it might do the trick. She didn’t want to ask the bartender for suggestions; she just wanted to anaesthetise herself.

She plucked the olive from the toothpick as she drained her glass.

Martinis weren’t too bad, she decided as she ordered another.

‘Brighde! What are you doing down here?’

Brighde turned at the sound of her name and found Sarah, her best friend, colleague and roommate all rolled into one, making a beeline for her across the room.

‘Just collecting my thoughts.’

‘Looks like you’re collecting more than thoughts,’ Sarah said as the bartender put a fresh cocktail on the bar.

Sarah was watching her closely as she pulled out another bar stool and sat down.

‘Who was on the phone?’ she asked. She’d been standing next to Brighde when she’d taken the call.

‘Nick.’

‘Is everything okay?’

‘He got his test results back.’

‘At nine o’clock at night?’

Brighde shook her head. ‘No. But it took him a while to figure out how to tell me.’

‘Was it bad news?’

‘Not for him.’ Sarah and Brighde had been friends for ten years since meeting at university, where they’d both studied nursing. Brighde had no secrets from Sarah. ‘He had ten repeats.’

‘He tested negative?’

Brighde nodded.

‘That’s great news.’

‘Yes. It is,’ she said, fighting to speak past the lump in her throat. She still felt like crying, even though nothing she’d heard in the phone call should make any difference. Nothing had really changed. She had her reasons for not getting tested and those reasons hadn’t altered. She could go on just as before. Nick’s results didn’t affect her future plans but she knew they solidified her fears. His results didn’t confirm her suspicions but they definitely strengthened them.

‘You don’t seem happy,’ Sarah said.

‘We each had a fifty-fifty chance of inheriting a faulty gene. There’s only two of us,’ Brighde explained. ‘What do you think the chances are of both of us dodging a bullet?’

‘You know the answer to that. It’s still fifty-fifty. Just because Nick is clear doesn’t mean you won’t be. The chance of you inheriting the gene or not hasn’t changed. Nick’s results have no bearing on you.’

Brighde knew Sarah’s facts were correct. The reality was her chances of inheriting the mutated gene hadn’t changed but she still felt the odds were not in her favour. She’d always felt that. Which was why she never intended to get tested. Who wanted to know that they were going to die young? Who wanted that fear confirmed?

Not her.

‘I know you’re right. In theory. But I’ve always felt that I was going to draw the short straw and knowing Nick is okay just reinforces all those feelings. Huntington’s Disease is dominantly inherited and I can’t believe we’d both dodge the bullet. I don’t think we could both be that lucky.’

‘And I don’t think there’s anything you can do about it tonight,’ Sarah said as she shook her head at the bartender, who was clearing Brighde’s glass and asking if she wanted another. ‘Come and dance, have some fun. The band’s playing some good music—dancing will take your mind off it.’

Brighde let Sarah convince her to vacate the bar in favour of the dance floor. She didn’t really feel like dancing but she felt less like going back to the hotel room and staring at the walls. She was feeling miserable enough already.

* * *

Xavier nursed his beer as he watched the dance floor. It was taking him a little while to get back into beer drinking. He hadn’t realised he’d acquired such a taste for whisky in his years of living in Scotland, but when in Rome... Or Edinburgh.

What he was getting accustomed to far more quickly was the plethora of attractive young women at the conference. The band had been playing for some time and the dance floor was full. His eyes were drawn to a petite blonde in a sapphire dress. He’d been watching her for a while now; she’d been late onto the dance floor but even among the crowd she’d stood out. He’d tried to look elsewhere but his gaze continued to return to her. He believed you could tell exactly what a woman was like in bed by the way she moved on the dance floor. The blonde had rhythm and energy. Her dress shimmered under the lights and her hair shone, contrasting brightly against all the black outfits in the room. She was striking to look at. She wasn’t smiling, she looked focused, but she danced as if she enjoyed it and he’d put money on her enjoying sex too. She looked fit and flexible and carefree, all admirable traits in his opinion, and he was hooked.

He waited until she left the dance floor. He wasn’t going anywhere until he’d spoken to her. He could dance, but he wasn’t about to dance in front of hundreds of his fellow medicos. He’d rather dance à deux and so he waited.

* * *

The band were playing a love song that was impossible to dance to without a partner. She needed pop music. Something she could lose herself in. She gestured to Sarah—she was going to grab a drink—and made her way to the bar at the side of the ballroom.

She had intended to get a water—dancing had taken her mind off the earlier phone call—but once she stopped dancing and reached the bar all her doubts returned. She’d have a water later. She needed another drink to numb the pain.

‘Can I buy you a drink?’

Brighde’s skin tingled as she felt, rather than saw, someone behind her. His voice was deep and quiet and although she couldn’t see him she knew he was addressing her. She closed her eyes, imagining a face to go with the voice, before she turned around, hoping she wasn’t going to be disappointed.

She wasn’t.

She turned to find the most gorgeous man she’d seen in a long time at her side. How had she not noticed him in the room? Okay, there were hundreds of people at the conference but seriously, he was magnificent. She must have been more distracted than she’d realised.

He watched her as he waited for her answer. His dark eyes studied her, captivating her with his gaze.

‘The drinks are free, you know,’ she replied.

‘In that case, I’ll get you two.’ He grinned at her, lightening the seriousness of his dark stare, and Brighde lost the last remnants of her composure.

He looked like European royalty. No, he wasn’t clean-cut enough for royalty. His dark hair was slightly too long, exploding around his oval face into soft curls that just begged her to reach out and touch them. His jaw was covered in designer stubble, his eyes were dark and his forehead was strong. He was dark and swarthy and sexy as hell. Confidence oozed from him. He was impeccably dressed—his dark navy suit hung from his shoulders and fitted his frame, the pants were slim, encasing powerful thighs. He looked like a European polo player. Something out of a Jilly Cooper novel. He looked rich and successful, although of course she had no idea if that was the case, and he wanted to buy her a drink. If there was a downside to his offer she couldn’t think of one.

‘What are you having?’ he asked. He didn’t wait for her to accept his offer. He just assumed she wouldn’t refuse. Was that confidence or was it simply an assumption based on the fact it was an open bar? She didn’t know but she also didn’t care. She wasn’t going anywhere. Not now.

She shouldn’t mix her drinks but the bar wasn’t offering Martinis and she knew she needed more than water if she was going to be brave enough to keep up her side of the conversation with this gorgeous man. ‘I’ll have a white wine,’ she said as she perched on a bar stool. She didn’t need to sit down but she needed to take a step back. He was standing close to her; that wasn’t a problem but she wanted to get a good second look at him and she needed a bit of distance to do that.

He ordered and handed her a glass. His fingers brushed hers and a spark arced between them, setting her already nervous heart racing. It had been several months since she’d shared a drink with a man but she knew it wasn’t the length of time making her react this way.

Was the touch accidental? she wondered as he tapped his beer glass against her wine and made a toast. ‘To new experiences.’

He held her gaze a fraction longer than was polite and her stomach flipped and she knew his touch had been deliberate. Her body was responding to him in a way it never had before. She’d never felt such immediate attraction or, if she was honest, such blatant lust before. He made her think of naked bodies and tangled sheets and raw, amazing sex and she knew exactly how this night would end. ‘Indeed,’ she replied as a sense of delicious anticipation flooded through her. She smiled and added, ‘I’m Brighde.’

‘Xavier.’

She didn’t need to know any more than that.

‘Have you enjoyed the conference?’ he asked her.

So he was part of the conference and hadn’t just snuck in for the free drinks.

‘It’s been really good,’ she said as she put her glass on the bar and crossed her legs, pleased that she’d had a little bit of free time to lie by the hotel pool and work on her tan. ‘But I could do with a few days off to recover before I go back to work. I’m heading home tomorrow, back to work on Monday.’

‘That’s a pity. I’ll be here for a few more days.’

‘Work or pleasure?’ she asked.

‘Purely pleasure.’ He kept his dark eyes fixed on her as he reached past her shoulder, picking up a napkin from the bar. His arm brushed against her skin and she could feel his words on her cheek, soft little puffs of air. She knew he didn’t need the napkin, she knew it had just been an excuse to lean in but she wasn’t complaining. She could feel the electricity surging between them. They could power the room with the heat that was being generated between them. She wasn’t aware of the music, the dancing, of anything that was going on around them. She was lost in the sensation he was evoking in her. She could feel his charisma wrapping itself around her as his pheromones enveloped her. Her nipples hardened and she squirmed in her seat. She pressed her thighs together as heat pooled low in her belly.

‘I’ve been working in Scotland,’ he told her, ‘but the conference seemed like a good way to keep the taxman happy and visit my family.’

‘Family?’

‘My parents live here.’

‘You’re travelling alone? No partner? No wife?’ She played with the ends of her hair, feigning casualness. She had to know the answer. She had rules and standards. She knew she would have sex with this gorgeous stranger—having sex would be a far healthier, and much more entertaining, distraction than drowning her worries with alcohol—but first she needed to establish some ground rules. She didn’t want to make any mistakes.

‘No wife. No girlfriend. No significant other.’

Now it was her turn to smile. ‘Good to know.’ She kept her gaze fixed on him now, wanting him to know where she stood. What she wanted. She didn’t need to know anything else about him. She knew she wouldn’t see him again. He was only visiting; she was leaving tomorrow. She hadn’t had sex for ages and a one-night stand with this gorgeous man was a good option all round. No commitment, just a bit of fun and a good way to keep her mind busy. She didn’t want time to think about her brother’s phone call. She wanted something to take her mind off her situation. This was perfect.

She wanted Xavier.

And she wanted him to know that.

But Xavier was looking to his right.

Sarah had joined them.

Brighde watched her friend looking from her to Xavier and she knew she was taking in the distance, or lack of, between them. She watched as Sarah, quite blatantly, checked him out.

‘I’m off,’ Sarah said when she’d finished her inspection. ‘Are you coming?’

Brighde thought about it for a second—okay, to be honest, a millisecond—she didn’t need any longer than that when Xavier was looking at her with his come-to-bed eyes. ‘No, I think I’m going to stay here for a bit.’

She knew Sarah’s question had been rhetorical. She knew her plans for the rest of the evening were written all over her face but she didn’t care. She wasn’t even looking at Sarah as she answered; she couldn’t make herself tear her eyes away from Xavier. He oozed sex appeal and she knew it was only a matter of time before she would be in his bed. She could feel it. She knew he wanted it too. She could feel the desire coming off him in waves and he was just what she needed. Taking a gorgeous man to bed ticked all the right boxes and it was a habit she had no intention of breaking. Okay, so she didn’t do it all that often—she could barely remember the last time she’d even had sex—but a one-night stand was the perfect way to scratch an itch.

She needed sex but she didn’t need a relationship. One night was enough. There was no need to go into details, no need to reveal anything personal about herself. She didn’t consider sex to be personal—sex with a stranger couldn’t hurt her, not as much as revealing her fears. She could happily share her body but not her mind. Her body was going to let her down one day; she owed it nothing.

Sarah nodded and smiled. She lent forwards and kissed Brighde’s cheek. ‘Have fun,’ she whispered into Brighde’s ear.

Brighde watched her go and when she turned back to Xavier she found he’d moved closer to her. His thigh pressed against her knee. She shifted forward on the bar stool, sliding her knee against the inside of his thigh. Their intentions were perfectly clear.

She looked up at him to find his dark eyes watching her. Her reaction was immediate and primal and she could feel her nipples jutting against the cool silk of her dress. She saw his gaze drop lower, saw him take in the peak of her nipples against the fabric of her dress. When he looked back at her his gaze was so intense and full of heat she thought she might melt into a pool of desire at his feet.

‘Can I offer you a nightcap upstairs?’ he asked as he lifted her glass from her hand. He reached across her to put her half-finished drink on the bar and the back of his hand brushed across her chest, grazing her nipple. Brighde felt as if she might climax on the spot.

She swallowed and nodded as she licked her lips. Despite everything she’d had to drink her throat was suddenly dry and she was having difficulty breathing, let alone speaking. She was experienced in the art of seduction but not in relationships. She didn’t communicate with words. She sought the comfort of sex when she needed it, emotionally or physically. Tonight she needed it to distract herself. It had worked in the past and, looking at Xavier, she was sure it would work again today.

He took her hand and helped her off the stool. Once again her legs had turned to jelly but she barely noticed this time. She was too aware of the tingling in her belly and the intense weight of expectation and excitement in her groin.

Xavier held the door for her as she stepped into the lift. The lift had four other occupants and Brighde stood slightly apart from Xavier. She needed to keep some distance, otherwise she was in danger of throwing herself at him in front of a crowd. He pushed the button for the sixteenth floor while she leant against the wall of the lift; she needed something solid to keep her upright. She wanted to lean against Xavier but didn’t dare while they had company. She didn’t trust herself to maintain a sense of decency.

‘What floor would you like?’ one of the other passengers asked her.

‘Sixteen,’ she replied as she tried to avoid eye contact with Xavier, the gorgeous stranger.

Over the heads and shoulders of the other people sharing their lift she was totally aware of him. The man exuded sex appeal. Tall, dark, handsome and well-built. His dark hair was thick and just long enough to show the wave through it. There was no grey in his hair but a hint of it lightened the tidy stubble that darkened his jaw. He was well-groomed but definitely all man and he was watching her with his dark chocolate eyes as she studied him. His eyes were slightly hooded; he reminded her of a predatory bird. She felt like a sparrow in the piercing gaze of a falcon and she knew she was firmly in his sights.

The lift stopped several times but it wasn’t until the fourteenth floor, when the doors closed, that it was finally just the two of them who remained.

She continued to study him. His hands were large, as were his feet. Even his slightly hooked nose was on the generous side. Brighde was twenty-eight years old and she was a midwife, she knew anatomy, and even though it was purported to be an old wives’ tale she knew you could judge the size of a man’s appendage by the size of his hands, feet and nose. She swallowed. She wouldn’t have to wait long to test her theory.

His eyes hadn’t strayed from hers and she knew he was visualising what was under her dress, just as she was imagining what she might find under his clothes. The idea gave her a rush of lust and she stepped a little closer as the lift doors eased shut.

He smelt fantastic. She was tempted to press the emergency stop button but she didn’t want to be surprised by a maintenance team coming to rescue them. She could wait two more floors. Maybe.

She was aware of her breathing now. Heavy and laboured.

He reached out one hand and put it on her waist and she could feel the heat of his fingers through the thin silk fabric of her dress. He pulled her closer until she was pressed against him. She could feel his desire now, a thick, hard bulge pressing into her. She tipped her head back and looked up at him as the lift stopped and the doors slid open.

CHAPTER TWO

SHE LEANT AGAINST HIM, not trusting her legs to support her, as he led her to his room. He swiped the electronic key card over the door and held it open for her.

The room was a carbon copy of hers, with the exception of the bed. She was sharing with Sarah so their room had twin beds. Xavier had a room to himself, and a king-size bed that she intended to put to good use dominated the space.

She stepped inside and somehow managed to wait until he stepped in behind her and closed the door. She turned around and his mouth was instantly on hers. His hands at her back.

She wasn’t interested in talking. She didn’t want to know anything about him. She didn’t need to know anything about him. His voice was deep and velvety smooth and it did funny things to her insides but she didn’t need to hear it.

She parted her lips and his tongue delved deeper, exploring her, tasting her.

She pulled his shirt free from his trousers and undid the buttons, running her hands over his chest. The muscles were firm and warm under her fingers and dark hair covered his skin.

She could feel wetness pooling between her thighs. She pressed against him, wanting to feel the thickness of his erection, knowing she wouldn’t be disappointed.

She closed her eyes and the room started to spin. Just a little, just enough for her to recognise she’d had more to drink than she’d realised. Drunk and emotional. That wasn’t a good combination. But she wasn’t so drunk that she didn’t know exactly where she was and what she was doing, she thought as she felt his hand slide up under her dress. She opened her eyes as his hand cupped her buttock. He lifted her off her feet and continued to deepen the kiss as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He carried her to the bed. She knelt on the edge as he opened the bedside drawer and retrieved a little foil packet. He put it on the bedside table, watching her as he let it go. His intentions were clear and Brighde knew he was asking for her acquiescence. In reply she reached up and slid his jacket and shirt from his shoulders, letting them drop to the floor. She wasn’t changing her mind now.

He kicked off his shoes as she fumbled with the buckle of his belt. Finally, the belt came loose and she undid his trousers, letting him step out of them.

She swallowed as she looked at him standing before her. He pushed his boxer shorts off his hips and his erection sprang free.

He was even more impressive than she’d imagined. Thick and proud. He was glorious.

He reached for her again and she lifted her arms above her head as he whipped her dress from her body. She wasn’t wearing a bra; she was as naked as he was save for her knickers and heels.

She stood up, brushing her breasts across his chest, and watched in fascination as his chocolate-brown eyes darkened further.

She spun him around, pushing him lightly backwards, making him sit on the edge of the bed. She needed to control this.

She stepped out of her underwear and put her legs either side of his, straddling his thighs.

She pushed him gently again, forcing him to lie back, as she climbed onto the bed and sat across him.

She plucked the foil packet from the bedside table and tore it open, sheathing him and protecting herself.

She was in a hurry now. Foreplay had been dealt with at the bar and in the lift. Silent communication and agreement had got them this far and she was ready and eager for the satisfaction she anticipated.

She put one hand on each side of his head and lifted her hips as he guided himself inside her, filling her. She closed her eyes as she concentrated on the sensations swamping her. The thickness of his shaft, the slight stretch of the muscles in her inner thighs as she spread her legs wider to take him deeper inside her.

She leant forwards as she raised and lowered her hips, sliding up and down his length. She opened her eyes and watched as his lips parted, listened to his sigh of pleasure. His hooded eyes were darker now, even more intense. She felt his hands on her skin and then his breath as he lifted his head and took one breast into his mouth.

Brighde moaned as waves of pleasure consumed her and her body came to life.

His hands were on her bottom and she could feel each individual finger against her skin. He wasn’t controlling the pace though; his hands were just following her movements, following her rhythm and pace. She was setting the tone. She was in control.

She sat up and felt her nipple peak as the cool air replaced his warm mouth. She wanted to watch him as they made love. She wanted a chance to commit it all to memory.

She reached behind her back and down between his thighs. Her fingers searching. She cupped his balls in her hand; they were hard and tight and cool in her grasp. She rolled them in her hand before circling his shaft with her fingers, following its movement to feel it disappear inside her. Deep inside her.

Her knees were shaking but the muscles in her buttocks and between her thighs were tight. She was panting quickly now, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps almost as if she were forgetting to breathe. She didn’t have enough muscle control spare to focus on breathing.

She couldn’t wait much longer. She could feel the waves of an orgasm threatening to break over her.

His hands had moved to her hips now, keeping her in place. Not that she had any plans to go anywhere. Maybe he was just holding her up.

She could barely keep her eyes open. Every cell in her body was focused on pleasure and there was nothing left for the basics. Nothing left to spare on breathing or thinking.

Brighde let herself go, giving in to the burst of light that wanted to explode in her.

‘Now,’ she begged and she felt him shudder and heard herself cry out as they climaxed together.

She collapsed, exhausted, spent and fulfilled onto his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her and she felt him kiss the top of her head. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling his scent. She’d had a few one-night stands—she considered them her only practical option as she wasn’t willing to risk having a real relationship—but she couldn’t say she’d ever found them terribly satisfying and she definitely couldn’t ever remember one as immensely gratifying as tonight.

She wouldn’t mind repeating it, but that wasn’t in her rule book.

One night only. With single men. And only with men she knew she wouldn’t bump into at work or in the supermarket.

But Xavier was on holiday from Scotland. Maybe she could stretch it to twice. But she was leaving tomorrow. Going back to Melbourne and back to work. She only had one night so she’d have to take her second chance tonight and surely twice in one night didn’t count.

She lay with her head on his chest and her fingers splayed across his stomach and listened to the rhythm of his heartbeat under her ear. She closed her eyes and let the silence drift over her.

* * *

She woke an hour later. The hotel room curtains were open and the city lights lit up the room. Xavier’s arm was draped over her shoulder and she slid out from under it, careful not to disturb him. She needed to go.

She ducked, naked, into the bathroom but when she returned to collect her clothes he was awake. He was lying on his back watching her. The covers were off and he made no attempt to hide the fact that he was ready and willing to make love again.

Brighde forgot all about getting dressed as she let him pull her back into bed.

But this time she took care not to fall asleep afterwards. She waited until he drifted off before she dressed and snuck out in the early hours of the morning.

There was no exchange of phone numbers or even last names. She didn’t know anything about him and that was the way she wanted it. She would never see him again. She felt a tiny twinge of disappointment but even though he was magnificent she wasn’t about to break her own rule.

She didn’t do weekends. She didn’t do relationships.

One night was enough.

There was no danger of falling in love in only one night.

* * *

Brighde changed into scrubs ready for another night shift. Her fifth straight. She was exhausted; the maternity wing had been really busy. That wasn’t unusual; Parkville Private Hospital had the largest private maternity service in Melbourne and they were always busy, but the past few shifts had been ridiculous. The nurses were blaming the full moon; there was no scientific evidence to back up their suspicions but years of experience had taught them that a full moon seemed to trigger labour, not only in the women who had reached full term but also for those who were overdue as well as for plenty who were a week or two away from their due dates. The department was bursting at the seams and Brighde was looking forward to a few days off at the end of this shift. Only eight hours to go.

She tied the laces on her sneakers and headed for handover, hoping that tonight would be quiet.

‘Brighde, you can take over from Jacqui. She’s got delivery room three.’ The charge nurse distributed the patients among the new staff.

‘I’ve got Kirsty Jones,’ Jacqui told her.

Brighde remembered Kirsty from prenatal appointments. ‘First baby, husband is Matt, right?’ she clarified.

Jacqui nodded. ‘She’s been in labour for about twelve hours and in active phase for a few hours now. Seven centimetres dilated, contractions four minutes apart. She probably hasn’t got long to go. Do you want me to stay until she delivers?’

It was common for the midwives to extend their shifts if they thought their patients were close to delivering. It made for good continuity of care and the mums appreciated having one midwife throughout. But it wasn’t always possible. Lots of babies took far longer than one shift to make their appearance.

‘Is there much else happening at the moment?’ Brighde asked, meaning, Are we likely to be run off our feet?

‘No.’

‘Go home, then,’ she told Jacqui. ‘I know Kirsty. I’ve got this.’

‘Thanks. I’ve called her doctor. He’s on his way. Dr Davey is on holidays and Dr O’Donnell, the new OB/GYN is covering for him.’ Jacqui was already untying her ponytail, getting ready to leave, as she gave Brighde the final information.

‘OK, all good.’

* * *

‘Kirsty, how are you?’ Brighde stepped into delivery room three and greeted Kirsty and her husband. Kirsty looked tired and Matt didn’t look as if he was faring much better. ‘We’ve had a shift change, it’s my turn now but you won’t have any more changes after this. I promise I’ll be here when your baby is born.’

‘You’d better be,’ Kirsty panted. ‘Your shifts are eight hours, right? If this baby isn’t out by then, I’m leaving.’

Brighde smiled.

‘What?’ Kirsty asked.

‘We hear that a lot at this stage, when you’ve had enough, that’s when we know you’re getting close.’

Kirsty grimaced as she was gripped by another contraction.

‘How are you doing, Matt?’ Brighde asked as she waited for Kirsty’s contraction to ease. This stage was hard on the partners; she knew he’d be feeling useless.

‘I’m okay but isn’t there anything to do to speed this up?’ he asked.

‘Sorry, not at this point. She’s very close. We’ve just got to let things take their course. Natural is best.’

Jacqui had attached a monitor to Kirsty’s abdomen to record the contractions and Brighde checked the readout. The contractions were now two minutes apart, lasting for around sixty seconds and getting stronger.

‘I’m just going to take a look to see how your labour is progressing,’ Brighde said as she pulled a pair of gloves on.

‘Eight centimetres. You’re getting there,’ she said. ‘You’re in the transition phase now. It won’t be much longer.’

‘We haven’t even seen the doctor,’ Matt said.

‘He’s on his way. There’s nothing for him to do yet. Trust me, you don’t want the doctor in early. If things are going well you don’t need him until the end.’

Kirsty’s labour seemed to be progressing as expected and Brighde thought they wouldn’t really need the doctor at all but she also knew that at Parkville Private the patients paid for, and expected to see, the doctor.

Kirsty cried out as another contraction took over. She was getting restless. ‘God, it hurts.’

‘If you think you can manage to get onto all fours that might ease the pressure on your back,’ Brighde told her. ‘Matt, you could run a flannel under hot water and give Kirsty’s back a rub.’ That would hopefully distract Kirsty, ease her discomfort and give Matt something useful to do. ‘You’ll meet your baby soon.’

Matt had followed her suggestion and returned from the en suite bathroom with a warm flannel. Brighde let him look after Kirsty while she checked the equipment, making sure she had everything she needed for the delivery at arm’s reach. As she worked she listened to Matt as he tried to reassure Kirsty. She could hear the love and affection in his voice, along with concern, and it made her wish that she had someone to share her life with. Someone who would love and support her. But she knew that would be asking a lot. She’d vowed long ago that she wouldn’t put someone through what she’d been through. She’d made a pact with herself that she would stay single. She wanted to be loved but she wouldn’t risk it.

Thinking about being in love led her to thinking about her brother. After all the pledges they’d made, the promise not to get tested, Nick had fallen in love with Imogen and everything had changed. The pact she and Nick had made years before, agreeing not to have genetic testing, had ended when Nick had fallen in love. He wanted to start a family and he needed answers. Brighde couldn’t blame him for that. But now she knew her decision to stay single and free was justified. She had watched her mother’s life disintegrate and she’d vowed not to put herself or loved ones in that same position. Which meant not allowing herself to fall in love. That was the only way to avoid the heartache. To avoid the risk. She had to stick to her plan. As much as she’d like to share her life with someone, she couldn’t commit to anything more than one night.

The last night she’d spent with someone had been with Xavier. She wondered how he was. Whether he was back in Scotland. Whether he ever thought about her. She couldn’t deny she’d been thinking about him. A lot. In the maternity suites she’d found herself comparing all the partners to Xavier. Wondering what he would be like in the same situation. Would he be the bossy, know-it-all expectant father who’d read all the books? Or would he be the kind, gentle, supportive partner who was only concerned about his wife. Not that it mattered. Her silent imaginings were a waste of time. Xavier was gone.

She had to stick to her plan and even if she wanted to change her mind Xavier wasn’t around. That boat had sailed. That was why she’d let her hormones carry her away that night. Because she’d known she’d never see him again. But she hadn’t been able to get him out of her head, despite the fact that the night she’d spent with him was now almost eight weeks ago. She really needed to get him out of her system.

She’d expected the sex to be good—the sparks she’d felt between them had been too huge to ignore—but she hadn’t expected it to be the best sex of her life. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have better. Xavier might have become her new benchmark but that didn’t mean someone else out there couldn’t match up or even improve on him.

Maybe that was the answer. Maybe she just needed to have sex with someone else. She needed to erase the memory of him. Something about Xavier had got under her skin but she couldn’t afford to get fixated on someone she’d never see again. That had been the whole point. Anonymous sex was the only way to go. She didn’t get involved. She didn’t do relationships and she really didn’t have time to spend thinking about him. She needed to get this baby delivered, and however many others decided to be born tonight, and then she’d go home, get a good eight hours sleep and tomorrow she’d start to wipe all traces of Xavier from her mind. She’d go back to the old, independent Brighde. She didn’t need a man; she was fine.

She didn’t want a man she told herself as she prepared to check Kirsty’s progress again.

She was now nine centimetres dilated and Brighde could see the baby’s head. She wondered how far away the doctor was. If he wasn’t already here he was likely to miss the delivery altogether.

‘Almost there, Kirsty. You’re doing really well. Not long now.’ She stood and pulled off her gloves. ‘I’ll fetch the doctor.’

Brighde stepped out of the delivery room and was surprised to find Sarah just outside the door. She was working a late shift too but she was working in the nursery. Maybe she was collecting a baby. But she grabbed Brighde’s arm.

‘Good, I’m glad I found you.’

‘What’s the matter?’

‘There’s something I need to tell you,’ her friend said as she dragged her towards the nurses’ station.

‘What is it?’ Brighde had no idea what could be so urgent. ‘I’m in the middle of a delivery.’

‘I know,’ Sarah said, ‘but this is important. Dr O’Donnell—the doctor covering for Dr Davey—you’re looking for him, aren’t you?’

Brighde nodded.

‘That’s him.’ Sarah tilted her head to her left a few times in quick succession, nodding towards the nurses’ station.

Brighde frowned. ‘Who is?’

‘Dr O’Donnell. It’s him. From the conference.’

Brighde saw the back of a head. Her eyes took in the thick, dark, slightly curly hair. The tall, broad, masculine shoulders. Her stomach flipped as recognition slapped her. He wasn’t someone she knew from staff but he wasn’t a complete stranger either.

He turned, maybe a sixth sense alerting him to the fact he was being scrutinised, and their eyes locked.

Brighde took a deep breath and held it. The man she’d shared the best sex of her life with was standing six feet away.

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