Seduction In Sydney. Fiona McArthur
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She’d fought to keep her movements smooth as she’d eased out from under his hand and away from his body.
He’d murmured something in his sleep and she’d pushed a pillow into his seeking hand and he’d drifted off again.
Scooped her bra from the floor and clipped it, she remembered that spot, had picked up her panties from the chair and pulled them on, and then her skirt and blouse. She’d glanced away from the chair, remembered Marco pulling her down onto his lap, and hurriedly scooped her shoes from under the bed—she certainly remembered the bed—and then she was dressed and couldn’t think past the concept that she’d been the easiest conquest in the world.
So she’d let herself out, putting her silver shoes on in the hallway, and had tapped the lift button impatiently in case he opened the door.
Now here she was. Alone, shivering, pulling into her wharf in the early morning for the first time in her life that wasn’t because of work.
An awful thought jolted as the ferry bumped the wharf and she checked her phone. No missed calls from Annie or the hospital. She sighed and thought self-mockingly, How lucky, because she suspected there had been some moments there when the whole apartment block could have come down around their ears and neither would have noticed. Would have thought it just part of the impact of making love together. Oh, my goodness, she wasn’t sure how she could regret that!
Marco woke to an empty bed. Like he did every morning, because he never asked a woman to stay. Today he had expected it to be different.
He’d heard the door shut and he opened his eyes as he sighed, slapped his forehead, and groaned. What had he done? What had she done to him? His hand slid across the remaining warmth where her head had lain and he wanted to run. He just wasn’t sure if it was as far as he could get from Sydney or after Emily.
He did neither. He sat on his terrace and nursed his espresso as he looked over the waking harbour. Imagined her hunched in the ferry on her way home, but by the time he realised she would be cold in her thin wrap it was too late to do anything but abuse his own stupidity.
Obviously she didn’t want to face him this morning, which was a damn shame because already he missed her. Missed her in more ways than he should. Regretted, of course, they had not made love one more time—because he was afraid he hadn’t quite got her out of his system. In fact, he regretted he hadn’t the chance to share breakfast, drink coffee, watch boats together.
He missed her. Missed Emily. And this was bad for a man who did not wish to stay in one place.
‘HI, MUM.’ It was ten o’clock and Annie looked rosy cheeked and relaxed.
Unlike Emily, who could barely meet her daughter’s eyes. ‘You look good. How’s your tummy this morning?’
‘Not sore at all.’ Annie stroked her little belly mound. ‘And she’s moving well. You look a little stressed. Stop worrying about us. We’ll be fine.’
Oh, goodness. ‘It’s hard not to.’ More guilt. ‘But I’ll try.’ Emily looked across at June, because she didn’t know what else to say. This was ridiculous. She needed to get a grip. No one was going to know and she could just push last night to the back of her head and forget it. Ha!
‘Hi, there, June. How are you?’
‘I’m good, thanks, Emily. How cool that Annie and I are roommates.’
‘I know. That’s great. You’ll have to tell her about the calm breathing course you did.’
‘I will.’ June’s mobile phone buzzed and Emily smiled and turned back to her daughter.
Annie whispered, ‘She knows you’re not going to go mad on her for the mobile phone. We try not to let the other staff see us use them.’
Emily lowered her own voice. ‘Maternity’s fine. We’re separate from the rest of the hospital over the sky bridge and the high-tech equipment. It’s easier for the staff too rather than running portable phones everywhere. They won’t mind.’
Of course Annie had never been on this part of the hospital as a patient and her mother hadn’t thought to explain yesterday. Was that because she’d been thinking of other things? Other people? A particular person?
Annie looked relieved. ‘Oh, good. I’m almost out of credit. Can you get some, please?’
‘I think they sell phone credit at the kiosk. I’ll ask.’
‘Goodie.’ A word that reminded her how young Annie was. ‘Do you know if Dr D’Arvello is coming in this morning?
‘It’s Saturday.’ Crikey, I hope not. Her neck heated. That was the reason she was here so early. It wasn’t even visiting hours. ‘Not sure. I’ll just get that credit.’
She needed to get away for a minute and get her head together. She was a mess and she didn’t like it. This was not how she did things. She was known for her calm and serene manner, famous for it over the hospital, and at the moment she couldn’t even recognise herself.
Ten minutes later after her quick trip to the kiosk she was feeling calmer. Head down, she waited at the main lift as her mind sorted reasonable strategies for what she was going to say to Marco when she met him again.
Someone called her name. Twice. She looked up. Evie Lockheart stood next to her with a quizzical smile on her face. ‘Earth to Emily?’
‘Oh. Sorry. Hi, Evie. How are you?’ She hadn’t made that date for afternoon tea yet.
‘So-so.’ Evie frowned. ‘You okay?’
‘Yes.’ Earth to Emily was right. She needed to plug into her surroundings. ‘Of course. I’m visiting Annie. Her baby had intrauterine surgery yesterday.’
‘Ah. I heard it all went well. Marco D’Arvello. Lucky we’ve got someone of his calibre here, even if it’s for a short time.’
Emily nodded with her head down. ‘He said Finn arranged his visit.’
‘Finn likes him.’
Emily remembered yesterday in the cafeteria. ‘Everything okay between you guys? I saw you in the kiosk yesterday.’
Evie shrugged. ‘Ah. Yes. Well. He’s a stubborn man.’
‘I’ve heard men often are.’
Evie laughed. ‘About time you did more than just hear that, isn’t it?’ Evie studied her face. ‘Shouldn’t you be retraining a stubborn man yourself?’
Marco wasn’t stubborn. But she didn’t say it. ‘I’m a little snowed under with a pregnant daughter at the moment.’
‘Of course. Though that’s the funny thing about falling in love. It doesn’t always pick the perfect moment to happen.’