His Little Miracle: The Billionaire's Baby. Nicola Marsh

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as a blonde in a mini skirt walked past outside. ‘Uh, I don’t think so. Now, shoo! Give them a delicate shove out the door so we can put our feet up and get a decent caffeine hit before we lock up.’

      ‘Actually, the guys have organised a project manager to meet me here tonight to discuss the renovations on my apartment, so I’ll have to wait around till he arrives. Why don’t we skip the coffee and you head home? I’ll lock up.’

      ‘Sure thing, boss.’ Anna sent her a mock salute and grinned. ‘Want me to turn down the lights to discourage other customers from dropping in? And flick the sign on the door?’

      ‘I’ll do it. Thanks, have a good night.’

      As Camryn walked the length of the bar to the power box, she glanced at her watch, hoping the project manager would arrive soon. She needed the renovations done asap, and all the other builders she’d tried had fobbed her off with ‘I’m too busy’ lines or tried to rip her off because she was a woman.

      And she hated that. She hadn’t got where she was today without being strong and independent and focused on her goals, something chauvinistic guys just didn’t understand.

      Flicking two switches to dim the lights, she had her finger poised over a third when a man pushed through the front door.

      ‘Great. He’s finally here,’ she thought as she flicked the last switch and picked up the set of hefty keys to lock up, eager to get this meeting underway.

      However, as she neared the door, the keys crashed to the floor, along with her hopes for a productive consultation, her heart stopping when she got a closer look at the man who’d just entered.

      Scruffy, wind-tossed, ultra casual.

      Faded denim, soft grey T-shirt, worn leather work boots.

      Stubble shadows, laugh-lines around grey eyes, slight dimples bracketing a mouth made for smiling.

      A mouth that was smiling at her, a wide, genuine smile filled with warmth, a smile that packed a punch, a smile she could never forget no matter how hard she tried.

      And she’d tried. She’d tried for six long, lonely years, yet the minute Blane Andrews strolled in and smiled that all-too-familiar smile, she was instantly transported back in time.

      To the first time she’d seen that smile, on Valentine’s Day, as fate would have it, to a time when that smile rarely left his face, when he’d lavished her with attention, when they’d been crazy for each other.

      Seeing him again after all these years was like being sucked into a vortex of swirling memories of love and laughter and sunshine on a hot summer’s day beside a lazy, meandering creek.

      Of sharing hot dogs perched on the back of his rusty old Ford, watching the sun set, wiping ketchup off each other with smiles on their faces and love in their hearts.

      Of taking long slow walks hand in hand in the shade of towering eucalypts, oblivious to the bush beauty, focused solely on each other.

      Of cuddling and kissing and floating on air, lost in the exquisite, heady perfection of first love.

      Oh, yeah, falling for Blane had been a whirlwind of exhilarating highs, before being spit out the other side, left with nothing but pain and loss and devastation.

      He’d ripped her heart out, and she never wanted to feel that way again.

      Ever.

      ‘Everything okay, Cam?’

      ‘You mean right now or are you asking how I’ve been the last six years?’

      Trying not to show how rattled she was by his reappearance and the abbreviated form of her name only he had ever called her, she bent to pick up the keys at the same time he did, their fingers brushing, hers tingling, his long and warm and heartrendingly familiar.

      She jerked back, straightening too quickly, and his hand shot out to steady her elbow, the barest of touches enough to give her dormant hormones a jolt.

      ‘Both.’

      He scanned her face as if looking for answers, those slate-grey eyes as frank and warm as they’d always been, beautiful, honest eyes that said trust me.

      Foolishly, she’d once complied.

      ‘I’m fine.’

      A big, fat lie if ever she heard one. How could she be fine when the love of her life, the man who’d walked out on her without an explanation, came waltzing in here on the anniversary of the day she’d first handed him her heart? Only to have it carved up three months later.

      ‘What are you doing here?’ she blurted, sliding the key ring from index finger to index finger, the jangle as the keys clinked and clanked against one another deafening in the growing silence.

      ‘I came to see you.’

      Her heart thudded at the sincerity in his eyes.

      He was telling the truth.

      She may not have seen him for six years but she’d never forget the way she could always read his moods by the blue flecks in his eyes.

      Indigo indicated happiness—the kind of intense, spontaneous happiness they’d had for twelve all-too-brief weeks.

      Cobalt indicated honesty—she’d believed him when he’d said she was the only girl for him, that they’d always be together, that he’d love her for ever.

      Deep smoky-gentian meant passion—the mind-blowing, unforgettable, once-in-a-lifetime connection they’d shared.

      Oh, yeah, she could remember each and every shade of those flecks, had lost herself in those grey depths for three blissful months. Until he’d walked away.

      So what if those flecks glowed cobalt now? Did his honesty count for anything when he hadn’t been able to face her with the truth before leaving?

      Hating the surge of emotion making her tummy gripe, she stepped back, forcing him to release his hold on her elbow and instantly missing the contact.

      Irrational, stupid and crazy, but her body had softened under his touch, had leaned towards him, recognising on some subconscious level the one guy to ever know her intimately. And by the strange heat seeping through her muscles, her traitorous body was rejoicing despite the hard-learned lesson that he couldn’t be trusted.

      ‘You came to see me? Well, here I am. Now that you’ve seen me, why don’t you leave?’

      He smiled, and she struggled not to gasp at the impact, her pulse doing a familiar tango through her veins.

      ‘You can’t get rid of me that easily.’

      ‘Could’ve fooled me,’ she snapped, mentally clapping one hand over her mouth while slapping herself upside the head with the other.

      An emotional outburst like that would suggest she still cared—which she didn’t, she couldn’t—and the last thing she needed was him hanging around trying to rehash the past.

      To her

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