Baby on Board. Liz FieldingЧитать онлайн книгу.
a keen interest in what she did, her stories about some of the odder characters who came to them made him laugh.
He told her about places he’d visited, both fabulous and foul. The wonders of the world, natural and man-made. The remote, the exotic, the emptiness of a tropical beach lit only by the stars.
She told him about her recent trip to Brighton for a jewellery convention.
Finally, long after they’d finished eating, Josh stood up. ‘It’s late, you’re tired,’ he said, clearing the dishes.
She didn’t bother to fight with him over it—he was right, she was finding it hard to stay awake—but instead rinsed plates and cutlery, stacking them in the dishwasher as he cleared the table. She wiped mats as he put away the butter, the wine. Their hands momentarily entangled as they both reached for the cruet and she found herself looking up at him.
‘I’ll take the pepper. You take the salt,’ he said after a moment.
‘No,’ she said, pulling back. ‘It’s all yours, Josh. You’re right. I’m done and by the time I’ve had a bath, Posie will be awake again, demanding food.’
‘Are you okay up there by yourself now that Elspeth’s gone home?’ he asked. ‘I could just as easily sleep in one of the spare rooms.’
‘I’ll be fine.’
He lifted a hand, laid his palm against her cheek. ‘Sure?’ he asked.
She swallowed. ‘Really. Besides, if Posie is restless she’ll keep you awake.’
‘I have to fall asleep first. I’m going to look through some of Michael’s things before I go down to the flat.’
‘Right, but don’t forget you’re supposed to be working on UK time.’
He smiled. ‘I won’t.’ Then, before she could move, he leaned close and kissed her cheek. ‘Good night, Grace.’
‘Um… good night,’ she said, backing away until she reached the door, then turning and running up the stairs before she said or did something stupid.
She took a steadying breath before she glanced in at Posie and then, in the safety of the bathroom, she leaned back against the door, her hand to her cheek, still feeling the soft prickle of his close-cropped beard as it brushed against her skin.
Remembering the shock of his kiss as he’d woken her—when she was anything but Sleeping Beauty—knowing how easy it would have been for her to have asked him to stay with her. How easy it would have been to turn into his arms for the comfort they both craved.
Wondering what would it be like to lie beside Josh Kingsley on a white beach in the starlight with only the sound of the ocean shirring through the sand, the chirruping of tree frogs, the scent of frangipani on the wind.
He’d made it sound so magical. Doubtless it had been. And she wondered who had shared that tropical night with him?
He hadn’t said and, unable to bear the thought of him with another woman, she hadn’t asked.
He’d only once brought someone home. They’d been expecting him, but not the tall, tanned Australian girl he’d married without telling a soul. A girl who was, in every way, her opposite. Outgoing, lively, ready to follow him to the ends of the earth. Or so she’d said. It had lasted a little over a year. Since then he’d never brought anyone home, never even talked about anyone in his life, at least while she was around and although he was, by any standards, a rich and eligible bachelor, he didn’t seem to live the kind of lifestyle that brought him into contact with gossip magazines. But just because he didn’t date the kind of glamorous women who were pursued by the paparazzi meant absolutely nothing.
Only that he preferred to keep his private life just that.
Private.
She ran a bath, added a few drops of lavender oil. But even up to her neck in soothing warm water she discovered that once having thought about it, it was impossible to get the image of Josh, of her, their naked bodies entwined, limbs glistening in the surf, out of her head.
Horrified that she could be thinking about such things at a time like this, she sank beneath the water in an attempt to cleanse the thoughts from her mind. Or maybe just to blot out everything. Only to erupt in a panic when she thought she heard Posie crying.
Her ears full of water, she couldn’t hear anything, but when she threw a bathrobe around her and checked, she found the baby lying peacefully asleep.
She rubbed her hair dry, then eased herself into bed in the room next to the nursery. Closed her eyes and slept.
Josh replaced the telephone receiver in Michael’s study, then opened the door, pausing at the foot of the stairs, listening. Everything was quiet. Grace couldn’t have heard the phone—his Chinese partner hunting him down with impatient need to set up a meeting—or she’d surely have come down. Unless she’d fallen asleep in the bath?
The dark hollows beneath her eyes told their own story and, knowing he wouldn’t rest until he’d reassured himself, he kicked off his shoes and, as quietly as he could, went upstairs. The bathroom door was unlocked. He opened it a few inches and said, ‘Grace?’ When there was no response, he glanced inside and saw, with relief, that it was empty. Then, as he turned away, he saw the nursery door was slightly ajar and, unable to help himself, he pushed it open, took a step inside.
He stood for a moment by the cot, looking down at the sleeping infant. Listening to her soft breathing, assailed by a torment of confused emotions as he considered every possible future. For Posie. For Grace.
Grace laughed as, her bottle empty, Posie turned to nuzzle at her breast, searching for more.
‘Greedy baby,’ she chided softly.
It was just getting light and, miraculously, they had both slept through.
She looked up as the squeak of the door warned her that she was no longer alone.
As Josh padded silently across the kitchen floor on bare feet, unaware that he had company, her first thought was that he didn’t look so hot.
Then, as he reached the kettle, switched it on and stood by the window, staring out of the window at a pink and grey dawn while he waited for it to boil, she thought again.
He might have the hollow-eyed look of a man who’d spent the night staring at the ceiling but, in washed thin jogging pants and nothing else, he looked very hot indeed.
‘Tea for me,’ she said, before that train of thought joined last night’s beach fantasy and got completely out of hand. Then, as he spun around, ‘If you’re offering.’
‘Grace… I didn’t see you there. Why are you sitting in the dark?’
‘I’ve been feeding Posie,’ she said. ‘There’s more chance that she’ll go back to sleep if I leave the light off.’ Then, ‘Is the kettle playing up again?’
He looked at the kettle, which was clearly working, then at her.
‘The one in your flat,’ she said. ‘Phoebe was going to buy a new one before…’ Before the christening. But Josh had been ‘too busy’ to fly home, so she hadn’t bothered.
‘What? No,’ he said. Then, ‘I don’t know. It was claustrophobic in the basement. Since I moved last year I’ve got used to seeing the sky when I wake up.’
‘You have to go to sleep before you wake up,’ she pointed out.
He shrugged. ‘I managed an hour or two. I don’t need a lot of sleep.’
‘I remember,’ she said.
‘Do you?’
It was just as well the half-light was pink because she blushed crimson. That wasn’t what she’d meant….
‘I remember Michael saying that you’d moved to some fabulous new penthouse with views to the end