Be My Baby: Her Parenthood Assignment / Three Weddings and a Baby

But she needn’t have worried. He turned away again and shuffled over to the other side of the bed. She was on the verge of breathing out her relief, when she realised he was getting out. And she watched open-mouthed as he walked calmly to the door that led out on to the terrace, opened it and went outside.

Gaby shot after him. The cold air hit her like a wall, but Luke didn’t even seem to notice. Thank goodness he was wearing pyjama bottoms. She hadn’t been able to tell while he was in bed. She wasn’t sure she could handle coaxing her naked boss back to bed. Seeing him shirtless was bad enough. It wouldn’t have been quite so uncomfortable if he were awake—in fact, under other circumstances, seeing such a finely toned torso would have been a definite bonus—but while he was unaware of her existence it felt voyeuristic.

And she couldn’t think that way about this man.

He stood motionless at the railing. Coming outside seemed to have soothed the dreams that had him tossing and turning a few minutes ago. But it had to be close to freezing outside; they’d both be hypothermic if they stood here much longer. She couldn’t leave him. What if he wandered down the steps? The tide was in. He could drown!

The only option was to try and get him back inside. An image of her father leading Justin back to bed when he’d had one of his sleepwalking episodes floated to the surface of her memory.

Luke still hadn’t moved and she walked over to him and gently took him by the hand. His fingers closed over hers, a gesture she found oddly warming, even though it was just a reflex.

She moved towards the open door, tugging him gently. He didn’t budge. There was no way she was going to manage to drag him back inside. Over six foot of solid male, versus five-foot-five of slightly out of shape female wasn’t a fair contest.

‘Luke?’ She tried to keep her voice low and steady. ‘It’s time to go back inside now.’ Then she moved again and, amazingly, this time he let her lead him. ‘That’s it. We’re almost there now.’

She ushered him into the room and shut the door behind them. Then, as an afterthought, she turned the key in the lock, removed it and searched for somewhere sensible to leave it. She could hear him moving around the room, pacing, and she didn’t want to waste time, so she just left it on the dressing table. Luke would scratch his head when he found it there in the morning.

Now inside, Luke began to show signs of distress again. He walked over to the door and rattled the handle, obviously desperate to escape. What was she going to do? And what was going on inside his head? Was he was back in prison, feeling trapped and powerless?

He just kept working the door handle, each attempt more frantic than the last. The top half of the door was glazed and he started banging on it with the flat of his hand, muttering something about needing to find her. She had no idea whether it was Heather or his wife he was talking about, and she didn’t have time to work it out. If he kept slamming his hand against the pane like that, it was going to shatter. And she couldn’t unlock it and let him go outside to freeze or drown. Think, Gaby!

‘Come on, back to bed.’

She placed her hands on his upper arms and tried to turn him round, but he just kept banging the glass and growling in frustration. The only thing she could think of was to get between him and the door. Luckily she was small enough to duck under his arms, and wedge herself into position.

The next blow from his hand hit her clean across the cheek. He stopped and she took the opportunity to grab his hands and push him back a step or two. ‘Come on, Luke. Please. Just get back in the blasted bed, will you?’

But he wasn’t having any of it. He tried to walk through her as if she wasn’t there. She stumbled backwards, landing against the door with the handle sticking into her back. She was trying to keep calm as she talked, she really was. But now her cheek was stinging, her back was sore and Luke was seriously starting to cheese her off—asleep or not!

‘Will you just do as you’re flipping told?’ She was just going to have to get bossy. She shoved Luke hard and it seemed to stop him in his tracks. While he wasn’t trying to engineer a break-out, she grabbed him by the hand and dragged him to the edge of the bed. Then she gave him another hefty push so he sat down.

‘Luke.’ This was ridiculous. He probably couldn’t hear her anyway. ‘You’re not going anywhere. Just give up.’

Even in the dark she saw his shoulders droop. His chin dropped on to his chest and he gave a great shuddering sigh. More gently now, she guided him until he was lying on his side and got him to swing his legs on to the bed.

Flushed with triumph, she stood there, grinning in the darkness. Luke Armstrong was going to get what was good for him—whether he liked it or not!

And then she heard a sound that broke her heart. This big strong man, who had been through so much, was crying. It started as just a sniff, but pretty soon the sobs were coming thick and fast.

She couldn’t stand it any more. Just couldn’t bear to hear him take one more gulp. It twisted inside her like a knife. So she clambered on to the bed beside him and put her arms around him. Tears were streaming over her lashes too.

‘Please, Luke. Please don’t cry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.’

It didn’t matter that she had nothing to apologise for, that none of what had happened was her fault. It just seemed right that somebody should say it, somebody should care.

She stroked his hair and rubbed his back and gradually his tears subsided. She lay there, listening to the sound of his breath as it slowed and grew more even.

She was kidding herself. For the past few weeks she’d been telling herself that she was making a difference, helping him put his life back together, but the scene this evening had made that a farce. His wounds went deeper than she could ever imagine. All her notions of being able to make a difference seemed so pathetic.

He seemed to be more deeply asleep now. She started to wriggle away, but the instant she did so, he started to mumble and fidget again. Soothing words alone didn’t do the trick, so she pressed her cheek against his back and snaked an arm around his waist. Physical contact seemed to calm him. Somewhere in his brain the sensations must register and tell him he wasn’t totally alone.

She breathed in the smell of him and felt the smooth skin of his back against her face, the contours of his muscles under her fingers.

This man deserved so much more than this.

He deserved love and happiness and a daughter who idolised him. Not this battered mess of a life. Luke let out one more heart-wrenching sigh and then she felt his muscles slacken. She was pretty sure he was over the worst now, but she’d better stay put for another few minutes, just to make sure.

How arrogant she’d been to think she could fix this family. In truth, she didn’t know where to start. She was way out of her depth. One thing she could do was make sure he got a good night’s sleep. She’d bet he didn’t get too many of those.

So she lay snuggled against him and cried for the wasted years and the horrors he must have endured. And, when she had finished, she placed one tender kiss on his back and closed her eyes.

Something was tickling her face.

She swatted it away, but it didn’t do as it was told. A few seconds later a small puff of air lifted a strand of hair that lay across her cheek. Stupid David! He was always waking her up by breathing on her like this.

And then it struck her that she had been divorced for nearly a year and it wasn’t David who was breathing on her. Her eyelids shot up.

Luke! She was in bed with Luke.

She fought the urge to bolt out of bed and kept completely still. She would just have to do her cringing on the inside. If he woke up and found her here, she’d never be able to face him again.

She took a calming breath—well, as calming as she could—and tried to work out which arms and legs belonged to her and which didn’t. She was lying on her back and Luke was facing her, one arm draped possessively across her torso. Pale grey light was filtering through the curtains. It was only just dawn and she had a good chance of escaping unnoticed if she kept her cool.

She inched out from under his arm, holding it aloft slightly so it didn’t drag across her, then placed it carefully back down on top of the duvet. Moments later her feet touched carpet. She almost smiled with relief. Almost. Luke stirred and she froze. His hand searched the empty space next to him. Thankfully, it landed on the extra pillow she’d thrown aside and grabbed that.

Gaby held her breath for a few seconds more and, when she was convinced he had settled back down, she tiptoed out of the room.

The toast had just popped out of the toaster when Gaby heard Luke enter the kitchen. She blushed. Thank goodness she was leaning over the counter and he couldn’t see her face.

‘Morning, Gaby.’

‘Morning,’ she replied, lowering her head slightly as the blush raged more fiercely.

Anyone would think this was a different kind of morning after!

The thing was, her brain was refusing to recognise last night for what it had been—a friend helping a friend in need. It had all seemed so simple at the time. But now her emotions were weaving themselves into complex knots. She wasn’t sure what she felt. Only that she was embarrassed and aware of him in a way she hadn’t been before.

Sharing a bed with someone, even if it were just for comfort, was an incredibly intimate thing. The barriers she’d erected to stop herself becoming emotionally entangled had been mown down by one nightmare.

Professional distance? Give me a break!

Worst of all, she couldn’t stop thinking about the feel of his skin against hers, the warmth their bodies had generated together. It had been so nice to hold him, to have some of the human contact she had missed in the last year.

Yes, that was it. She was just starved of affection. She was just reacting as any normal person would in the situation.

And normal people got into bed with their bosses, did they? Who was she kidding?

Well, whatever had happened, she was finding it hard to see him as her boss any more. Or the poor downtrodden man she’d come to save from himself. She let out a little huff of a laugh as she buttered her toast. Luke had put his finger on it the first time they met. In some grandiose daydream she’d seen herself as his guardian angel, swooping in to rescue him, then flitting off again when the job was done.