A Very Special Holiday Gift

‘I’m sorry,’ Chloe said quickly. ‘I’d like to help, but I’m not really free to rush overseas at the drop of a hat. Not at this time of year. I have my parents to consider...’

‘Your parents?’ Zac frowned again. Why would a woman approaching thirty be so concerned about her parents? Then again, he knew he was out of touch with the whole family thing. His own parents had died when he was eighteen and he’d been managing without them for almost seventeen years.

But now there was a baby...a niece...another little girl who was his responsibility. A slug of pain caught him mid-chest. History was repeating itself in the most macabre way.

‘It’s Christmas,’ Chloe said next, as if that explained everything. She looked up at the surprisingly attractive decorations she’d arranged about the office. ‘Would you like me to look into hiring a nanny?’

Zac let out a weary sigh. ‘The last thing I need now is to start interviewing nannies.’

‘I don’t mind doing the interviews.’

‘No,’ he snapped. ‘We don’t have time.’

Besides, for this delicate operation, he needed someone he already knew, a woman who was loyal and trustworthy, and sensible and efficient—and a woman who wouldn’t distract him with sex.

Chloe Meadows ticked every box.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_dc5a8603-2443-5d0e-bc6a-ea3d31870612)

CHLOE COULDN’T QUITE believe it was actually happening. Here she was in the executive lounge of Brisbane International Airport, enjoying coffee and croissants with her boss, with a boarding pass for a flight to London in her handbag, a grey winter jacket and rosy pink scarf folded on the seat beside her, and a neatly packed carry-on bag at her feet.

She still wasn’t quite sure how Zac had convinced her to do this, but from the moment he’d learned she had an up-to-date passport the pressure had begun. He’d argued that the company was winding down for the Christmas break anyway and, thanks to her superb organisational skills, the office Christmas party could run brilliantly without her.

He’d brushed aside her concerns that she knew very little about babies. After all, the child’s father might yet be found.

To Chloe’s amazement, even her very valid concerns about her parents had been duly considered by her boss and then swiftly and satisfactorily smoothed away.

She’d been stunned when he’d asked last night if he could visit her parents. She’d tried to protest. ‘Sorry, no. Mum and Dad will be in bed already.’

‘Why don’t you ring them to check?’ he’d said confidently.

To Chloe’s surprise, her mother and father were still up, watching Carols in the Cathedral on TV, and, even more surprisingly, they said they’d be happy for her boss to call in, if he didn’t mind finding them in their dressing gowns and slippers.

Zac said he didn’t mind in the least.

‘Chloe, there’s sherry in the pantry and we can break open that box of shortbread you bought last week,’ her mother suggested, sounding almost excited.

Zac had poured on the charm, of course, and, when it came to being charming, her boss was a genius. Even so, when he offered to put her parents up in the Riverslea Hotel, all expenses paid, with all their meals, most especially Christmas lunch, included, Chloe was sure they would refuse. It would be all too flash! They didn’t like flashiness.

But, before her parents could object, Zac had thrown in a car with a driver to take them to church on Christmas Day, or to the doctor, or anywhere else they needed to go, and he’d offered to hire a nurse to check daily that they were keeping well and taking their correct medication.

Chloe’s mother had looked a bit doubtful about this, until she’d received an elbow in the ribs from her dad.

‘It would be like a holiday, love,’ he’d said.

Still, Chloe had expected her parents to have second thoughts and say no. But then Zac also told them with commendable sincerity how extremely important, no, invaluable, their daughter was to him and how much he needed her for this very important mission in the UK.

Somehow he’d struck just the right note, which was clever. If he’d praised Chloe to the skies, her parents would have been suspicious and he would have blown it.

Instead, by the time he’d finished, they were practically squirming with delight, like puppies getting their tummies rubbed just the way they liked it.

And now...this morning, her parents, with their out of date, simple clothes and humble, shabby luggage, including her dad’s walking frame, had looked a trifle out of place in the luxurious hotel suite with thick white carpet, floor-length cream linen curtains, golden taps in the bathroom, not to mention panoramic views up and down the Brisbane River...but the grins on their faces had said it all.

‘Chloe, you go and look after your nice Mr Corrigan,’ they’d said, practically pushing her out of the door. ‘Don’t you worry about us.’

Chloe had closed her gaping mouth.

Remembering her parents’ delight, she could almost imagine them exploring their hotel room like excited children, checking the little bottles of shampoo and bubble bath, flushing the loo and bouncing on the king-sized mattress. Zac Corrigan had achieved a minor miracle.

And Chloe was going to London!

Right. Deep breath. She only hoped she wasn’t making a very serious mistake. After all, she knew why her boss had been so keen to avoid asking any of his female ‘friends’ to accompany him on this very personal journey. He liked to keep his relationships casual and this sojourn to London would be anything but casual.

Chloe also knew why her boss regarded her as a suitable choice. She was capable, conscientious and uncomplicated, and he trusted her to remain that way. Which suited her just fine. It did. Really.

Yes, there was a danger that those annoying longings she sometimes felt for Zac would surface, but she’d had plenty of practice at keeping them in check and she was sure she could survive his close proximity for a few short days.

So perhaps it was OK now to admit to herself that she was a tiny bit excited, or at least she would be if she wasn’t concerned for Zac and the sad ordeal that still awaited him when they landed.

* * *

Eventually, they boarded and took off, making the long flight across Australia, and now they were, according to the map on the screen, flying high above the Indian Ocean...

The cabin lights were dimmed, Zac and Chloe had eaten an exquisite meal and had drunk some truly delicious wine, and their business class seats had been turned into beds.

Beside Chloe, her boss appeared to be asleep already, stretched out in jeans and a black T-shirt, with his shoes off and his belt removed and his feet encased in black and purple diamond-patterned socks. He had also plugged in earphones and was listening to music and he had slipped on the navy silk eyeshade the airline provided.

He was used to flying and she supposed he would sleep now, possibly for hours. He’d probably had very little rest during the previous night and she was sure he needed to sleep. Actually, Chloe’s night had been sleepless as well, so she knew it would be sensible to try to follow his example. Otherwise, she’d end up in London, useless with jet lag, with a boss who was ready and raring to go.

Unfortunately, however, Chloe was too wired to sleep. The past twenty-four hours had been such a whirlwind and the thought of London was simply too exciting. She’d acquired her passport in happier times, when she’d thought she knew exactly where her life was heading...

But she’d never used it. So she’d never been on an international flight before, had never flown business class, and had certainly never been to England. It was hard to believe she would soon be seeing the famous Tower Bridge and Big Ben and Buckingham Palace.

Needing to calm down, she fished in her bag for the magazines she’d bought from the airport newsagent while Zac was busy with a phone call. The mags were all about mothers and babies and parenting and Chloe hoped to find an article or two about caring for newborns. Just in case...

Luckily, there were plenty of stories and columns covering all kinds of newborn issues. Chloe soon discovered what to do if a baby had colic, jaundice, an umbilical hernia...and masses of information about bath time, skin care, crying, feeding, burping...

She read the information conscientiously, trying to take it all in, wondering if she would actually be called on to apply any of this in practice and hoping she’d remember the important details. Her real-life experience of babies was limited to admiring her friends’ offspring, and she’d found them cute to cuddle or play with and then she’d been happy enough to hand them back to their mothers.

After her life turned upside down several years ago, she’d given up her own dreams of motherhood, so she’d never given much thought to the finer details of green nappies or colic or projectile vomiting.

Even now, she blocked those images. Not every baby had those problems, surely?

Instead, Chloe allowed herself to picture a tiny, warm, sweet-smelling bundle in her arms, a dear little baby girl, with soft pink skin and perhaps dark hair like Zac’s. A darling rosebud mouth.

‘Aren’t you sleepy?’ murmured a deep voice beside her.

Startled, she turned to see that Zac had lifted his eyeshade and removed an earplug, and was watching her with marked curiosity.