Her Secret Valentine's Baby
Autore
JC Harroway
Letto da
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CHAPTER ONE
DR SADIE BARNES was in no mood for the party filling Vienna’s Danube Hotel bar. She almost turned tail. Just her luck to encounter a group of rowdy singletons on her first Valentine’s Day alone for six years.
She needed wine, stat.
Ducking her head, she bypassed the loved-up gathering and headed for the bar, where she intended to order the largest glass of white possible in her stilted German. Somewhere back in London, her ex was celebrating lovers’ day with his shiny new, pregnant fiancée, the woman he’d cheated on Sadie with.
On any other day, she’d have headed straight upstairs to her room, especially after a long day of lectures and networking at the Progress in Paediatrics medical conference at the hospital across the road. Instead, she placed her order with the bartender and took a seat far away from the party, wearily sagging into the barstool.
Why was it, when you’d been horribly betrayed and humiliated, your heart thrashed to pieces, so easy to believe that every other person on the planet was blissfully in love?
Realising that she had veered into a cynical and self-indulgent wallow, Sadie thanked the bartender for her glass of wine. ‘Vielen dank.’
He smiled what might have been a flirtatious smile.
Sadie looked away, took a huge gulp of Sauvignon Blanc, no longer able to trust her instincts where men were concerned after Mark’s broken promises. Better to focus her energy on work, on today’s highly informative symposium, on returning to London tomorrow refreshed and professionally reinvigorated, this nauseating, love-drenched day over for another year.
If only the Valentine’s revellers would let her forget.
The bar resounded with a series of loud bangs as multiple confetti cannons were discharged into the air. Sadie jumped, her hand flying to her chest as hundreds of pink and red paper hearts fluttered down on the cheering crowd.
She hadn’t realised that she’d actually released the groan of irritation aloud until the man next to her at the bar spoke.
‘That’s two sighs in the space of a minute,’ he said, causing Sadie to notice him for the first time where he’d been previously obscured by a pillar, as if he too wanted to distance himself from the party.
‘But don’t worry,’ he continued in excellent but accented English. ‘Hopefully, that’s as raucous as they’ll get.’
‘I hope so.’ Sadie nodded, carefully observing her fellow party pooper from behind her wine glass.
Broad-chested, dark-haired and with kind blue eyes, he was undeniably the kind of man any woman with a pulse would notice. But she’d been so wrapped up in her private pity-fest, she’d been blind to the hottie skulking with her in the corner.
‘It wouldn’t normally bother me,’ Sadie said with a third sigh, ‘but I came in to be alone, for a quiet drink.’
A drink to help her forget that there wouldn’t be a red envelope on her doormat when she returned to her flat. Mark had always ostentatiously marked the romance of Valentine’s Day year after year—a dozen red roses, surprise trips to Paris, candlelit dinners... But his grand declarations and overt shows of affection had been a baseless charade, as if Sadie had been a place keeper, a stand-in until someone better had come along.
‘Me too.’ The stranger’s sexy mouth kicked up with a hint of a conspiratorial smile that turned him from good-looking to drop-dead gorgeous.
He raised his glass in solidarity and settled back behind the pillar, making it obvious that he had no intention of hitting on Sadie.
Deflated, she took a second look.
Maybe because he was so clearly uninterested in flirting, maybe because her loneliness was heightened by the rowdy celebration, maybe because she was so utterly done with relationships after Mark’s hurtful betrayal, Sadie found herself eager to prolong the harmless conversation.
‘Instead,’ she said, drawing his attention once more, ‘we find ourselves in the middle of a Valentine’s party. There should be a law against that kind of thing.’
Matching her smile for smile, the handsome stranger this time eyed her with definite interest.
‘Anti-Valentine’s party,’ he corrected, pointing to a heart-festooned poster behind the bar, which clearly advertised the event.
She dragged her stare from his intense eye contact to ponder the poster, which was written in German way beyond her translational skills.
‘What’s an Anti-Valentine’s party?’ she asked, intrigued. ‘Ordering a drink is about the limit of my capabilities. As you can probably tell, I’m not a local.’
‘Me neither,’ he said, sliding his stool to her side of the pillar so they could talk without a barrier. ‘I’m Czech, but I also speak German, so allow me to translate.’
Sadie nodded, mesmerised by his deep-voiced, accented English. Now she was faced with the close-up of his strong jaw darkened with stubble, the ghost of a smile on his distracting lips and his blue eyes dancing with humour, the tension in her body that she hadn’t been aware of melted away.
‘It says “Anti-Valentine’s Party Rules”.’ He leaned sideways to read the poster, wafting Sadie with his delicious spicy aftershave.
The sexy Czech was around ten years older than her thirty-two, his smile deepening the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, which were framed by a dignified scatter of grey hair at his temples.
Fascinated that for the first time since her break-up seven months ago, Sadie could imagine herself flirting with this man, she took another gulp of wine to hide her body’s unexpected swoon and nodded for him to continue the translation.
‘“Rule number one,”’ Blue Eyes said. ‘“You must be single.”’
Shrugging one broad shoulder in a way that said it was pretty self-explanatory, he paused, waiting expectantly for Sadie’s answer.
Was he flirting with her?
‘Tick,’ she said, emphasising her unavailability by drawing the symbol in the air with a nervous chuckle.
The man helping her to forget that her ex was as shallow as a puddle copied her gesture with a playful smile that left Sadie scoping out evidence of a wedding ring on his hand, only to be pleasantly exhilarated by its absence.
Was she flirting with him?
Even more shocking was how the idea fizzed pleasantly through her veins.
Why shouldn’t she flirt with a smart, attractive single man? Just because her ex had cast her aside despite his grand protestations and empty promises, didn’t mean that Sadie couldn’t once more enjoy feeling desired.
‘“Rule number two,”’ her companion continued, leaning closer as he read so Sadie was aware of his body heat, a thrill of excitement waking up her nervous system. ‘“You aren’t looking for a relationship.”’
‘So far so good,’ Sadie said as she and her mystery man ticked the air in unison, their stares colliding and holding so tingles ping-ponged around inside her belly.
He was flirting with her.
Thrills of delight snaked down her spine. Just because Mark had thrown her away didn’t make her worthless. Yes, she had her...issues, ones that Mark had denied were a problem when they’d first met, but she could still attract a man if she so chose. The right man, of course, one who shared her new philosophy on avoiding commitment.
‘What about rule number three?’ she asked, her smile gaining confidence.
This was the longest rule of the three and Sadie waited with bated breath, now fully invested in the idea of this stupid party given that this sexy and unexpected man obviously shared her relationship aversion.
But was it any wonder that she would lap up the attention of a kind and handsome stranger after being so callously discarded by a man who’d claimed to love her? Perhaps it was time she had a fling to put her ex’s rejection and her decimated instincts well and truly in the past.
‘“Rule number three,”’ he continued. ‘“No...” How do you say...?’ He waved his hand, spoke a few words in what Sadie assumed was Czech, as if he was struggling with the exact translation.
Sadie foolishly watched his lips as they mouthed the German words, torturing herself by calculating the two hundred and eighteen days it had been since she’d been kissed.
Long, lonely days filled with self-doubt that, because of her fertility issues, no one would ever want her again.
Having figured it out, he said, ‘“No hook-ups...unless you are prepared to risk being lured to the dark side of red roses, broken hearts and shattered expectations when the phone stays silent...” Or something along those lines.’
‘Oh...’ A stab of disappointment jabbed at her ribs. Even though she agreed with the sentiment, Sadie couldn’t bring herself to make a tick this time, keeping her fingers wrapped around the stem of her wine glass.
‘Well, thanks for the translation,’ she said, studying the liquid left in the glass, hoping to hide her crestfallen expression that they wouldn’t be taking their fun flirtation to the next level.
‘It turns out that this is my kind of party after all, but I think I’ll give it a miss anyway...’ she prattled on, not daring to look his way. That last rule had dumped a bucket of iced water on her fantasy of hooking up with this like-minded stranger.
Except now that the idea was out there, it was stuck in her mind like a deep splinter.
‘I just came in for a drink after a long day.’ She waved her hand at her near empty glass of wine. ‘I’m leaving Vienna in the morning...so a party probably isn’t a good idea.’
She always over-talked when she was nervous, and he was the first man in a long time to make her nervous.
‘But what about you?’ She finally braved eye contact. ‘Tempted to join the other cynics and commitment-phobes?’
To stop her mouth making more unnecessary words, she gulped her drink, trying to forget how, for a few minutes, while they’d flirted and learned how much they had in common when it came to love and relationships and the dreaded Valentine’s Day, this compelling man had made her feel attractive again, whole, hopeful that she’d be okay, even if it was alone.
His stare lingered, sending shivers of anticipation down her limbs.
His answer, when it came, was delivered with quiet intensity that left Sadie in no doubt of his sincerity.
‘I can’t be lured to the dark side,’ he stated flatly, cryptically. ‘All that love and relationship stuff is for people hoping to find the one and start a family. That’s not me.’
He shrugged, the slight hunch to his broad shoulders, the flicker of sadness in his blue eyes telling her that they might have much more in common than either of them had realised when they struck up this conversation.
Sadie froze as his frown-pinched gaze traced her face, pausing at her mouth in a disconcerting way. Was he, like Sadie, gutted about rule number three? Had he, too, been considering a one-night stand with a stranger to banish the loneliness?
‘Me neither,’ she whispered, fighting the absurd urge to reach out and touch his arm, to comfort and be comforted, certain that they each had painful reasons for being alone tonight.
A different kind of tension sparked between them, an awareness, recognition, a breathless moment of possibility.
Galvanised by memories of her ex’s excuses and lies, by the hurtful truth of his betrayal, which had damaged the self-acceptance she’d worked hard for following her diagnosis of infertility in her twenties, Sadie bravely raised her glass.
‘Well, cheers to us and down with Valentine’s Day,’ she said.
Just because she couldn’t be a mother, didn’t diminish her as a woman. This sexy stranger had helped her to cement that conclusion tonight. She had a good life, a career she loved, her family and friends.
With an unflinching gaze, he touched his glass to hers. ‘To us.’
Holding his stare while they each took a sip, Sadie searched for relief that their flirtation would go no further, only to be pleasantly frustrated.
She didn’t know his name. She hadn’t been looking to meet him and would most likely never see him again. Only she sensed an affinity with this intriguing man. And something in his eyes told her he felt it too.
‘Well, it was lovely to meet a like-minded romance sceptic,’ she finally said, noticing that the party had all but disbanded, the staff clearing away glasses and sweeping up paper hearts from the floor.
Almost reluctantly, she slid from her stool and held out her hand for him to shake, forcing herself to walk away. As much as she found this stranger wildly attractive, as much as she’d resolved to move on, she hadn’t slept with anyone but her ex in six and a half years.
But maybe she should.
Mark was in London with his pregnant fiancée, most certainly not thinking about Sadie tonight.
Her stranger stood too, taking her hand so her stomach flipped at his warm and confident touch. ‘It’s been an unexpected pleasure—the best Anti-Valentine’s Valentine’s Day I’ve had in years.’
Sadie laughed, beyond flattered.
Although he smiled warmly, he regarded her as he had done all evening—with self-assured interest and a quiet calm she found so appealing after Mark’s effusive but empty promises.
‘Good luck staying single,’ she said, her heart hammering so hard he would surely hear it.
‘You too.’ He leaned in and kissed her cheek in that European way, the soft brush of his lips agonisingly brief, the scrape of his stubbled jaw thrilling, the warmth of his body enticing her to admit how comfortable she felt with him, how similar they were, how easy it would be to surrender to this unexpected and fierce attraction.
Her hand was still clasped in his, neither of them pulling away as they faced each other. Vulnerable but safe. Strangers but somehow also allies against the folly of love.
Sadie stared into his blue eyes, the word goodbye trapped in her throat. Her resolve wavered back and forth. Was there an old condom in the bottom of her wash bag? Was she wearing the tattiest underwear she owned? Could they keep tonight anonymous and regret-free?
‘Although I was thinking...’ she said, emboldened by the fact neither of them had moved away, by the fascination and heat in his stare, ‘that for a couple of committed singletons like us, we’re probably safe to break rule three.’
‘Definitely safe,’ he said, his irises darkening by a few shades to denim blue. ‘If you’re sure...?’
His fingers gripped her hand a little tighter, his index finger swiping the pulse point on her inner wrist in hypnotic circles that almost buckled Sadie’s knees with desire.
If that simple touch could ignite her libido so dramatically, how would things be between them when the clothes came off?
She couldn’t wait to find out.
‘Who needs Valentine’s, right?’ she whispered, still holding his hand as they headed for the hotel lifts.
‘Not us,’ he said as the lift doors closed.
He pulled her into his arms, cupping her face with one hand. ‘You’re beautiful.’ Tugging her hair loose from its ponytail so he could tangle his hands there, he tilted up her face.
Sadie feared she might pass out. But then his lips crashed to hers in a desperate rush.
She moaned into their kiss, parted her lips, and welcomed the thrust of his tongue, glad that she’d trusted this particular instinct. Had she ever felt this instantly attracted to someone? So powerfully turned on?
She became aware of movement—the lift ascending, or her knees finally buckling, or the earth shifting on its axis like a romantic cliche. But then her fingers were tangled in his hair to direct his kiss deeper. Her back was somehow against the wall of the lift and his thigh was pressed between her parted legs while his hand cupped her breast through her blouse, toying the nipple into a taut peak.
This wasn’t about romance. It was need, pure and simple. His and hers in flawless harmony.
The lift doors opened.
Flames chased them down the hall.
Sadie hurriedly fumbled with the electronic key card while he nuzzled kisses along her neck and gripped her hips from behind, his erection pressed to the small of her back.
With her groan of relief, the door gave way and they tumbled inside the room.
There was no time to activate the lights as they discarded their shoes and kissed their way over to the bed. No time for Sadie to worry about the state of her underwear as they frantically stripped off, kissed and touched as much of each other’s bodies as they could. And no need to worry about protection as he reached for his wallet before covering her naked body with his on the bed.
‘I hate Valentine’s Day,’ she panted out as he took one nipple into his mouth and sucked, sliding his hand between her legs.
This was so much better than she’d imagined, everything about him, from his ripped naked form and impressive arousal to the way he instinctively seemed to know how to set her body alight with his touch, perfect.
‘Worst day ever,’ he agreed, pressing a trail of hot kisses down her ribs and stomach before settling between her legs to pleasure her with his mouth.
Except two condoms, four orgasms and one goodbye kiss later, Sadie knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was one Valentine’s Day she would never forget.
