Midwife's Baby Bump. Susanne Hampton
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was both unexpected and undeniable and made her pulse quicken and her stomach fill with butterflies. He had always been aloof when she had passed him in the hospital corridors. There was no doubting how attractive he was but he’d seemed distant. Flick hadn’t taken it personally as she’d surmised a role such as a neonatal cardiothoracic surgeon would be high pressured and he probably didn’t even see the medical staff around him at times, let alone a student midwife on placement, who randomly popped into the hospital between home visits.
She’d try not to think about him after he left her sight when she returned to MMU but she knew the nurses and midwives all spoke about him. Many had crushes from a distance but none appeared to have had first-hand experience. She admired him for keeping his personal and professional life discreet and separate.
But as she sat beside him in the privacy of his car, she didn’t want to think about the hospital, the midwives, or whether he had a little black book. Instead, she channelled Megan’s words. Tonight would be hers. It was time she took a risk.
Tristan’s gaze was very intense, his mouth only inches from hers when he said goodnight to her. The chemistry between them was electric and couldn’t be ignored. The gentleman in him had insisted on parking his car and taking the stairs with her to her door. Then the gentleman was no longer when, without warning, and without resistance, he took possession of her lips and then her willing body. When Flick fumbled with the keys, Tristan took control and opened the door, scooped her up in his powerful arms and then kicked the door closed with his foot. With his mouth still hungering for hers, he carried her through her streetlamp-lit apartment to her bedroom.
With desire steering every move of his skilful hands, he unzipped her dress and threw it to the floor. His kisses trailed from her mouth down her bare neck as he laid her on the bed. Standing before her, he removed his jacket and tie, unbuttoned his shirt, all the while admiring the beautiful, nearly naked woman now reaching for him. His tanned torso was bare and Flick’s fingers needed no encouragement to explore his warm, firm skin as together they removed the rest of his clothes and then her strapless black lingerie.
Tristan was in no hurry as he gently lay down with her in the softness of her bed. His hands took their time slowly roaming her eager body, bringing her to a peak then letting her desire settle for the shortest time before teasing her back to the brink. Flick had never been so ready and so sure of anything when he finally took her and they became one for the first time that night.
The morning light slipped through the gap in the curtains and found Flick lying naked in her bed with Tristan asleep beside her. She was happier than she could ever remember. But also unsettled when she realised the enormity and repercussions of what she had done. She had slept with Tristan on the first night. It had been amazing and he was a wonderful lover in every way.
The feeling of his skilful hands caressing her body had filled her senses and fought with her doubts that it was too soon. They should have waited, her practical side told her. Her mind was spinning as she slipped from the warmth of her bed and into the shower. She needed space. Room to gather her thoughts without the scent of Tristan lying beside her and making her have crazy, romantic thoughts about the way he had made love to her. The way no man had ever done before.
The warm water felt good as it washed over her body and she tried to make sense of what had seemed natural only hours before. Rushing in so impulsively was nothing that Flick ever did but when he’d kissed her at the door she’d been unable to resist him. She just needed a few moments alone to sort out how she felt about the night … and the man still lying in her bed.
Tristan woke and reached out for Flick but he was alone. He could hear the water running in the bathroom. He wondered if it was his cue to leave; to disappear without any uncomfortable goodbye. It wasn’t how he wanted their time together to end and it seemed out of character for Flick. Even though they had spent less than twenty-four hours together, he felt that he knew her enough to say that taking a man home on the first night was not something she did often.
He lifted his hands behind his head and lay in the warmth of her sheets, thinking back over the night. It had been amazing and he wished it could be the beginning of something deeper between them but he couldn’t do that to her. He would end it as quickly as it had begun, just the way he always did. But this time it felt different.
As he slowly lifted his head from her pillow and climbed from the bed, he felt a sudden ache inside for what he was ending so abruptly. He paused and looked back at the crumpled bed where Flick had been lying and he felt a strange feeling of regret. This was nothing like other mornings when he left a woman’s bed. This time he was fighting the urge to stay and if she walked out of the bathroom, with or without her towel and smiled her gorgeous warm smile, he knew he would not leave. This time he wanted to stay.
But she didn’t come out. The shower was not running but she was still behind the door. He wasn’t sure if she really did want him to go. Perhaps he didn’t know her the way he thought.
And perhaps it was for the best.
He wasn’t looking for long term. He was fooling himself to think he could make it more than what it was. It wouldn’t be fair to Flick to let her think he intended pursuing a relationship, and marriage would never be on the table. Tristan had good reason for not considering himself husband material but he wasn’t about to share that with a woman after only one night, no matter how amazing the night had been and how he thought he felt about her. His reasons were solid and not negotiable.
Her diplomatic disappearance under the shower made Tristan think that she didn’t want an awkward morning-after goodbye. But knowing she was within arm’s reach behind a thin wooden door tugged at a place deep inside Tristan. It was a feeling he’d never experienced before. He looked around her apartment, knowing he would never be there again. Yesterday had been different. His visit had been casual but now they had crossed the line there was no way he would ever return.
One night would be all they would share. One breath-taking night, his body reminded him as he stepped over the sea of clothes that lay strewn over the wooden floor. Her expensive dress entwined with his tuxedo just as their bodies had all night. Collecting his belongings, Tristan dressed quickly. He picked up his keys and after slipping them in his trouser pocket, along with his mobile phone, he left. The bathroom door opened just as he quietly closed the front door and made his way down the steps to his car.
Pausing for a moment to look back up at Flick’s apartment, Tristan breathed a heartfelt sigh. He wished that life could be different and he could have stayed in the softness of her bed, wrap his arms around her naked body and persuade her to see if what they had could be more than just one night.
But one night was all he could offer.
And it appeared it was all she wanted.
Flick stepped out of the bathroom. Finally her heart had won over her head in the steam-filled room. Maybe, just maybe they could make something more from their crazy, wonderful night. Perhaps she could learn to trust him and let him into her life despite the way they’d rushed into sleeping together. She was willing to try and she wanted to tell him just that as she slipped back into his arms. Her freshly scrubbed face was lit with the promise of what they might share.
Her stomach sank as she looked at the bed. It was empty. She looked around the room. Tristan’s clothes, his keys, all sign of him had gone. He had left, without any goodbye; he had just climbed from her bed and walked out of her apartment.
His action spoke louder than any words ever could. There was no tomorrow to plan—nothing more to talk about. Clearly for him it had just been for one night.
TRISTAN SIPPED HIS coffee as he looked from the window of his third floor office at the Victoria. He had returned from early morning rounds and had an hour before his surgical schedule began.
His mind wandered for a moment back to Flick, just as it had every day for the previous three months. He had hoped that as time passed so would his feelings, but they hadn’t. Ninety-one days and nights had not erased or