legal papers scrunching inside it. ‘Can we go into your office so we’re not interrupted?’
Hamish startled—his eyes suddenly wide and his face pinched. ‘Hell, George, what’s going on?’
Everything she wanted came down to this yet-to-be-had conversation—the one she’d practised in front of her cheval mirror so many times she could recite it in her sleep. She swallowed and hooked his gaze. ‘Do you remember just before you went to London, you said to me that that if I ever needed you, I just had to ask?’
Hamish’s blood chilled as his gut gave a sickening lurch. Georgie had never asked him for anything before and his brain shot straight to disaster. He covertly studied her, searching for the cachectic look of cancer.
Nothing.
She stood before him with her short-cropped brown hair mussed and looking as she always did—slightly dishevelled and as if she’d thrown on whatever clothes had landed at the end of her bed over the previous week.
A smooth expanse of olive skin broken only by the shimmering of a jewelled navel ring separated the top of a pair of baggy happy pants and a white embroidered blouse, which she’d tied under her breasts. Breasts he’d always admired despite the fact they were slightly too big for the rest of her body. Georgie always hated it that her body was wrongly proportioned and he knew she spent a lot of time at the gym trying to dominate it into submission, but without much success.
But all of that aside and taking into account her usual aura of general uncertainty about the world she lived in, she looked fit and healthy and not remotely sick.
The fact she wanted privacy scared him and he quickly ushered her through to the office, his mind racing, trying to preempt her question but coming up blank. ‘Of course I remember.’
‘Good.’ She chewed her thumbnail the way she always did when she was nervous.
His anxiety ratcheted up a few more notches as her eyes flickered with a myriad of emotions, but he could only recognise fear backed up by determination. Surely knowing had to be better than this agony. ‘Spit it out, George.’
Her shoulders squared and she shot him a tight smile that combined a flare of hope tied up with despair. ‘I want your sperm.’
CHAPTER TWO
‘EXCUSE me?’ Hamish tugged at his ear, certain he must have misheard.
‘I want a baby, Haim. I want you to be the father.’
His building anxiety exploded, sending his blood swooping to his feet and making his head spin. The crushing weight of unease pressed down so hard on his chest that it made breathing difficult. Of all the things he’d anticipated her asking, this wasn’t one of them.
He half fell onto his chair, sending it skating backwards. ‘What the …? Georgie, I don’t want to be a father.’
Her mouth flattened on one side. ‘I know you don’t and I’m not asking you to be one.’
He shook his head, trying to quieten the white noise so he could make sense of what she was saying. ‘You just said you want me to be the father of your baby.’
She wrung her hands. ‘I know. Sorry. This isn’t coming out right.’
‘Damn right it isn’t.’ His tight throat and dry mouth barely allowed words to be formed. ‘You and Luke should be having this conversation, not you and me.’
‘Luke’s in Perth. We split up three months ago.’ The words fell flat as her breasts rose and fell. ‘He doesn’t want to be a father.’
‘Neither do I,’ he heard himself yell.
She sat down and pulled her chair up to the desk so she was opposite him and she leaned in close. Yearning burned so brightly in her eyes that he squinted.
‘Although it’s a shock to you, Haim, I’ve had time to think about this and to argue out every single pro and con. This isn’t a whim. Please hear me out.’
Her entreaty penetrated his shock and a sigh rolled through him. What harm was there in listening?
Plenty.
But he couldn’t get past that desolate look in her eyes. ‘Shoot.’
She gave a brisk nod of thanks and sat back on her chair, all businesslike and professional. ‘It’s no secret that I’ve always wanted a family. Growing up an only child is … quiet. Lonely. When Mum and Dad died …’ She bit her lip and breathed in deeply. ‘Since they died two years ago, it’s like I have this empty space inside me, constantly reminding me I’m alone. I thought when Luke suggested we buy a house in Perth it meant we were moving forward as a couple into the future. A future with children, a family.’
Her voice wobbled for a moment. ‘But I was wrong. The moment I brought up the idea of children, Luke bolted and the relationship crashed and burned.’
Hamish totally related to the running but he wasn’t fool enough to say so. All he knew was that when a woman he was dating started pointing to strollers in the street, he was out the door faster than an athlete on steroids.
Georgie’s fingers drummed on the polished oak of his desk, her agitation palpable. ‘My biological clock isn’t just ticking, it’s on full scream continuous alarm. I’m running out of time. In three days I’m turning thirty-five,’ her voice cracked and rose. ‘Thirty-five, Hamish. The age you told me it was okay to panic.’
An accusatory finger pointed at him, bringing back his off-the-cuff comment from so long ago to haunt him like a tormented ghost. How easy it was to spout words—they evaporated long before the mark they left started to fade.
Her intensity had his heart pounding as tendrils of unease threatened to coalesce into fear. It was time to put perspective back into the conversation.
‘So all of this is because of your birthday?’ He tried a reassuring smile. ‘Come on, Georgie, you know I knew nothing at twenty-six. I was just talking through my hat and thirty-five was a random number I plucked out of the air to cheer you up at the time. You and I both know that thirty-five isn’t old.’
She jerked in her seat as if he’d just fired a bullet through her and her mouth hardened. ‘You remember Sue Lipton?’
Hamish nodded, wondering why someone they hadn’t seen in years was being brought into the conversation. ‘Sure, didn’t she do anaesthetics?’
‘Yes, and she married Ryan Spedding. They’re on the IVF programme.’ She pressed her forefinger of her right hand against the thumb of her left, numbering off. ‘So are Emily and Lewis Pearce, and Jessica James has been trying to get pregnant for eleven months.’
He rubbed his forehead as an ache started behind his eyes. ‘And you’re telling me this why?’
‘Because they’re our age and they’re having problems. You’re a doctor, Hamish, and you know that every single day that passes reduces my fertility just that little bit more. I don’t have any more time to waste. If I want a family of my own I have to get pregnant now.’
‘I know you’ve always loved the drama
