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
