Instant Mother

‘A lover?’ he queried with a lopsided smile. ‘Yes. David, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’ A little frown in her eyes, she asked gently, ‘What’s wrong?’ When he didn’t immediately answer, she reached out, put her hand over his. ‘Tell me.’

He gave a deep sigh, looked up. ‘I told you about my sister and brother-in-law being killed in a plane crash earlier this year?’

‘Yes,’ she agreed gently.

‘And about Jessica? My niece?’

‘Yes, that she was living with her grandparents, and that you’d applied for eventual custody.’

‘Yes. There was a court hearing today, and, although they will grant guardianship, they won’t, at the moment, grant custody.’

‘Because they want you to be married?’ she asked understandingly.

‘Mmm. They don’t like single gentlemen looking after little girls. Understandable, I suppose.’

‘And so she’s to stay with her grandparents?’

‘Yes, but they’re elderly, and although they love her, as she loves them, as a long-term solution it just won’t work.’

‘I’m so sorry.’ When he didn’t answer, just stared down into his coffee, she watched him for a few moments in silence. Such a strong face. A good face—and long, dark lashes that a girl would kill for. ‘Don’t you know any other women?’ she asked with a sympathetic, if disbelieving smile.

‘Not in England. And I can hardly ask any women of my acquaintance in the States to come all the way over here, give up their lives, for the sake of my niece, can I?’

‘Perhaps not.’ In an attempt to lighten his mood, she teased, ‘And what on earth makes you think that I might make you a good wife?’

He looked up, held her eyes with his. ‘Because you’re fun, and gentle—and you don’t bore me.’

‘Didn’t,’ she corrected. ‘I might have changed.’

‘And have you?’

She smiled, shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. I’m still erratic, scatty...’

‘Warm, friendly,’ he put in. ‘We lived in pretty close proximity in Romania without coming to blows.’

‘True,’ she agreed with a smile as she remembered the spartan accommodation, the shared meals. ‘Have you been back?’

He shook his head. ‘You?’

‘I drove over at Christmas to take some bits and pieces.’ Searching his face, she asked kindly. ‘What will you do?’

‘I don’t know.’ Summoning up another smile, he murmured, ‘I’d better go. You’ll want to close up.’

‘It doesn’t matter. Stay if it helps.’

‘Thanks, but... It’s odd,’ he murmured, ‘you find yourself examining every woman you meet with a view to—motherliness.’ A rather wry smile in his green eyes, he got to his feet.

‘Will you stay over here now?’

‘Can’t My contract in the States doesn’t end until February. I’m trying to get out of it, but...’ With a little shrug, he added, ‘I’ll see you in six weeks.’

But six weeks later she was in hospital with head injuries from a car crash and the restaurant was temporarily closed.

Six weeks after that, it was closed permanently. David had gone, her livelihood had gone, and Alexa was waiting in Stefan’s hotel for him to arrive.

A hat covering her shorn head, too thin, nervous, she watched him check in and then slowly walked to join him as he waited for the lift.

‘Do you still need a wife?’ she asked quietly.

CHAPTER ONE

‘OH COME on, come on...’ Fighting the key into the lock, shoving the door wide, Alexa dropped the lead and lunged for the ringing phone.

‘Mike?’ she gasped breathlessly.

‘Mike?’ a deep voice enquired suspiciously. ‘No, it is not Mike. It’s Stefan! Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to get hold of you for the past two hours! Have you got her?’

‘Got her?’ she queried blankly. ‘Got who?’

‘Jessica!’

‘Jessica?’

‘Stop bloody repeating it! Have you got her?’ he demanded urgently.

‘No, of course I haven’t got her. Why would I have...?’

‘No?’ he yelled. ‘Why the hell not? Alexa,’ he continued furiously, ‘if you’ve—’

‘Wait, wait, wait,’ she interrupted hastily. ‘I...’

‘I don’t have time to wait! Didn’t Mrs Bailey ring you?’

‘Mrs Bailey?’

‘Yes! Jessica’s grandmother!’

‘No, no one’s rung me,’ she denied worriedly.

‘Oh, God. Right listen, this is very important. How far are you from the school?’

‘The primary school?’

‘Of course the primary school! Sorry,’ he apologised raggedly. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m frightened sick. How far, Alexa?’

‘Ten minutes,’ she said quietly.