His Longed-For Baby. Josie Metcalfe
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were no frills or flounces to detract from the classic simplicity of the fitted bodice or the full-length elegant sleeves and the layer upon layer of sheer silk organza that would caress her body and float behind her in a slow-motion dream as she walked towards her groom.
She straightened up from her self-imposed task and caught sight of herself in the tri-fold mirror on the top of her chest of drawers. She pulled a wry smile at the picture she made, with her face devoid of any trace of make-up and her toffee-coloured hair standing out at odd spiky angles after the rough towelling she’d given it after her shower.
‘Not quite the typical picture of the eager bride on the eve of her wedding,’ she murmured, and saw her lip quiver as she drew in a shaky breath.
‘Don’t you dare!’ she threatened the figure in the mirror with a glare from eyes that were more green than blue in the lamplight. ‘Not one single tear, do you hear me? He’s not worth it!’
There was another tap on the door. A different rhythm this time, and she sighed as she wondered who it was. While Liam was unlikely to turn up to apologise, he probably wanted to tell her what he thought of her for making such a scene. He’d certainly been mortified when she’d told him what she thought of him…and in front of so many members of staff, too!
Unfortunately, unless something juicier happened in the meantime, by the time she returned to work the hospital grapevine would probably have blown everything all out of proportion and she would be sharing equally in the notoriety.
Still, that was better than the alternative. It might have been years before she discovered just what sort of man she’d married, by which time she’d probably have been too old to have the baby she’d always wanted.
The knock came again, sharper and more determined, and she had a feeling that, unlike her last visitor, they weren’t going to give up. She was going to have to speak to them to make them go away, even if it was Liam. She certainly didn’t have to let anyone come into the flat, because she just wasn’t in the mood for company.
She was already speaking as she released the catch, determined to send her visitor away as she stuck just her head around the edge of the door.
‘Look, I’m sorry to be unsociable, but if you don’t mind, I’d rather not—Jake? What are you doing here?’
He was the very last person she’d expected to see standing there and the only one who could actually make the whole situation worse. She’d known from the first day he’d introduced her to Liam that the two men had known each other for years, but she had believed that since she’d come to work in his department at least she and Jake had become friends. It actually hurt that he’d thought so little about her feelings that he hadn’t told her about Liam’s lies.
‘How did you get in?’ she snapped. ‘I didn’t buzz down to release the lock on the front door.’
‘I know. That’s why I let myself in.’ He held up a familiar key. ‘I used to live here, remember?’
Yes, she remembered. She’d loved it when he’d used to live right next door to her…that there had been just a single wall separating her bed from the sexiest man she’d ever met. She’d been devastated when, without a word of warning, he’d suddenly bought a prestigious flat in a recently completed development on the other side of the hospital and moved out. OK, anyone could see that his new place was much nicer than this one, but she’d thought he’d enjoyed the friendly atmosphere here as much as she did.
‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded bluntly, her feelings less than friendly now.
‘You wouldn’t answer your door when Karen knocked earlier, and she was worried about you. We both were.’
‘You were worried about me? I don’t think so,’ she scoffed, the anger that had accompanied her home from the club re-igniting with a vengeance. ‘You certainly weren’t worried about me when you hatched your little scheme with Liam. How could you be part of such a shabby trick, Jake? I know you trained together, and you were going to be Liam’s best man, but I thought at least you were my friend.’
‘I am your friend,’ he insisted heatedly, and for just a moment she was almost convinced by the expression of hurt she glimpsed in his eyes. Then he glanced over his shoulder towards the sudden sound of voices down by the front door and the illusion was gone. ‘Please, Maggie, could I come in? Some of the gang has obviously come back from the club and…Look, I need to explain and I can’t do it out here.’
‘There isn’t anything to explain,’ she said firmly, and began to swing the door shut. If he didn’t leave soon she was going to embarrass herself by bursting into tears, no matter how determined she was not to give in. Her only hope was to hold onto the anger until he went. ‘Are you forgetting that I overheard your conversation with Liam? It was perfectly obvious that you knew all about his grubby little plan—’
‘Maggie, please…don’t!’ he interrupted, quickly bracing one hand on the door to prevent her closing it in his face. ‘Please! You’ve got to believe me. I honestly didn’t know that Liam hadn’t—’ He broke off as the chattering voices came closer; clearly people were on their way up the stairs.
He took a step closer, his hazel eyes darkening with entreaty under the rakish length of the dark hair that always seemed to be just a few days beyond the haircut he never remembered to write in his diary.
‘Please, Maggie? Just two minutes?’
There was something in his eyes, a quiet plea that she didn’t think she would ever be able to resist. How could she when she’d lost her heart to him the first time they’d met? Unfortunately, that had been before she’d learned that he was the one man she could never have.
Silently, she stepped back and pulled the door wider, her turbulent emotions making her undecided whether she was making another stupid mistake.
Almost as if he was afraid she would change her mind, he swung the door swiftly closed behind him and leant back against it.
It wasn’t until she saw his gaze slide over her that she remembered that she was wearing nothing more than her ratty old towelling robe—the one she’d been going to throw away in the morning at the start of her new life.
He, on the other hand, still looked as though he could model for the next issue of GQ in his neatly pressed black chinos, black leather jacket and a deep blue shirt that almost matched his eyes. At least his dark hair was as unruly as ever, but whether that was just from the chilly breeze that had sprung up earlier in the evening or from his perennial habit of running his fingers through it, she didn’t know.
For a moment there was silence between them, the only sound the chatter of the other residents passing on their way along the corridor.
Maggie wasn’t sure if it was a sign of paranoia but she was almost certain she heard their tone change as they went past her door. Were they talking about her…about the scene she’d made? The whole hospital was probably going to be talking about it by tomorrow, the tale growing with every telling.
Well, there was nothing she could do about it now.
‘So,’ she said briskly. ‘The clock’s ticking on your two minutes. What did you want to tell me?’
Unable to stand still while she waited for a reply, she threaded her way between the neat stacks of cardboard boxes containing all her worldly goods across to the mini-kitchen in the corner of the room to fill the kettle.
Behind her there was a sharp rustling, tearing sound and a muttered curse.
‘Damn. I’m sorry, Maggie. I tripped over this bag and—Oh, damn!’ he ended on a stricken note.
She turned to find him holding the plastic bag into which she’d just struggled to stuff her once-in-a-lifetime wedding dress—the wedding dress that was now spilling out of a gaping hole in the side like the silky entrails of some alien life form.
She closed her eyes against the sight and turned back to her task, trying