The Midwife's Secret Fling
Auteur
JC Harroway
Lezers
18,4K
Hoofdstukken
21
CHAPTER ONE
EARLY BOXING DAY MORNING, Zara Wood parked her car and left the cosy interior for the sub-zero temperatures outside. Craving a hot shower and a decadent five hours of uninterrupted sleep after her night shift at the hospital delivering babies, she pushed open the front gate to her Derbyshire cottage.
This early, the village of Morholme was quiet as people slept off the excesses of Christmas Day. Zara sighed; no matter which way she looked at it, working on Christmas night had sounded desperately lonely. But unless she counted watching her five-year-old son, Zach, sleep, something she still enjoyed, she’d had nothing better to do. Besides, most of the other midwives had families and partners, and Zach had been so excited for a sleepover at her mum’s, where he’d no doubt eaten too many treats and stayed up late.
As she headed for the front door of the end-of-terrace cottage she’d inherited from her late father, a noise—the metallic scrape of the squeaky side gate—grabbed her attention.
Zara peered around the side of the house to see a strange woman disappear down the lane that ran between Zara’s cottage and that of her neighbour. Zara raced into the garden, confusion turning to panic. Had she been burgled while she’d been at work? She’d spent six months renovating the basement rental flat while also working full-time to support her son single-handedly. Had the stranger broken in using the key Zara had hidden under a flowerpot for her new lodger—a man visiting from Australia—who was due later today?
With adrenaline ramping up her pulse, Zara yanked open the gate, outraged that someone had taken advantage of all her hard work. But by the time she’d made it into the lane, the woman had vanished.
Indignant, she entered the rental with her master key, fearful she’d find the lovely cosy accommodation she’d slaved over on her days off while Zach was at school completely ransacked, but everything appeared undisturbed. Even the television and portable speaker, the only items of real value, were still present. Perhaps the woman wasn’t a thief at all, but a squatter.
Zara sighed, her five hours of sleep dissolving. She’d need to wait up for a locksmith to change the locks. Her mood worsened as she moved to the bedroom, finding evidence that the squatter had indeed spent the night. The bed Zara had left immaculately made for her lodger with clean luxury sheets and a cosy duvet was all rumpled and had obviously been slept in.
Just then, she caught the sound of the shower door closing in the en-suite bathroom. Her pulse soared. There were two squatters. And one of them was using her hot water and her luxury body wash. The cheek of people!
Melodic humming came from behind the closed bathroom door. Male humming. With a sudden chill of fear spreading through her veins, Zara grabbed the nearest heavy object—a ceramic candlestick from the mantel. She should probably call the police, but first, this guy was going to get a piece of her mind.
The bathroom door flew open. A stark-naked man appeared. On seeing Zara, he came to an abrupt halt in the doorway, his expression registering shock, which quickly morphed into a hesitant smile.
‘I come in peace,’ he said, holding up his hands in surrender as he nervously eyed the candlestick she’d menacingly raised. ‘But if you’re going to use that, do you mind if I cover myself first?’ His eyes darted to the nearby towel rack.
‘You can’t be here,’ Zara said, too strung out to place his accent, but it was clear he wasn’t local. She yanked an expensive Egyptian-cotton towel from the rail and tossed it at his naked chest.
He caught it with one hand and quickly wrapped it around his hips. ‘Why don’t you put down the candlestick before someone gets hurt?’ he said, one side of his mouth kicking up, a playful edge to the nervousness now.
‘There’s nothing funny about breaking and entering,’ Zara said, inflamed that he seemed to find this situation amusing. ‘You’re trespassing. If you don’t leave immediately, I’ll call the police.’
How dared these people take advantage of all her hard work? Renting out the newly finished flat would help subsidise her wages so she could give Zach everything he deserved in life, given that she’d never received a single penny of support from his father, a man Zara considered the biggest mistake of her life.
He held up his hands again now that the towel was securely tucked. ‘Hey, there’s no need for the police,’ he said, as if she were overreacting. ‘Let’s just chill out for a second.’
‘No, you chill out,’ she volleyed back. ‘And while you’re at it, get out.’ Thanks to this freeloader and his lady friend, she’d have to spend valuable time that she could have been sleeping fixing up the flat for the arrival of her lodger.
‘I’m not trespassing,’ the stranger said with amused patience, his inquisitive stare taking in Zara’s creased midwife’s uniform. ‘Are you Mrs Wood? I’m Conrad Reed.’
At the mention of his name, Zara sagged with relief, her adrenaline draining away.
‘It’s Ms Wood, actually. I’m not married,’ she snapped, feeling stupid. ‘So you’re Conrad Reed...from Australia?’ There’d be no need to use the candlestick, call the police or change the locks, because this was her lodger, the man who’d signed a month-long lease and was supposed to be arriving that afternoon.
‘Yep,’ he said, his smile widening as he stuck out his hand. ‘Good to meet you. If I’d known you were going to let yourself in, I’d have put on some clothes.’ Humour flashed in his eyes.
Reluctantly, she shook his hand, her face flaming at the misunderstanding. But was everything a joke to this guy? Perhaps Aussies were just naturally easy-going thanks to all that sunshine and surfing. His accent was so obvious to her now, she cringed at her eagerness to jump to the wrong conclusion.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘I thought you were a thief, or a squatter.’ She lowered the candlestick to her side.
‘Nope. But you weren’t really going to use that, were you?’ He eyed her makeshift weapon doubtfully.
‘I don’t know...’ She narrowed her eyes and stood a little taller. ‘Maybe.’
He laughed then, but she couldn’t join in or see the funny side. She was too tired.
‘I hadn’t thought it all the way through,’ she continued. ‘I just know that I worked hard to single-handedly renovate this place, and I’ve just got home from work after a night shift, and I have to pick up my son in five and a half hours so I was looking forward to some sleep and—’
She took a breath; she was waffling. This man didn’t need her sad life story. And now that there was no need to evict him, she couldn’t help but notice his attractiveness. Dirty-blond hair still damp from the shower. Piercing grey eyes, sparking with amusement. Tall and tanned with a muscular physique, his broad chest dotted with water droplets. Helpfully, her brain chose that moment to remind her that she’d seen him naked, even if she’d been too scared and outraged to enjoy it at the time.
But Conrad Reed’s smokin’ body and roguish good looks were irrelevant. Since a holiday fling six years ago had resulted in her precious baby, and after Zach’s biological father had declared he wanted nothing to do with Zara or his son, her sole focus was taking care of Zach so he never once felt the loss of a positive male role model in his life. What with her shift work and her five-year-old, there was no energy left for members of the opposite sex, not even an exotic one with a drool-worthy body and a charming smile that came far too easily and made her think of all the things she’d denied herself since that pregnancy test had turned positive—partying, dates, sex.
‘Hold on a second... You were meant to be arriving later this afternoon?’ she reminded him, her voice pinched with fresh annoyance. She hoped her very first lodger, as hot as he was, wasn’t going to be problematic.
‘Change of plan. I took an earlier flight.’ He gave a casual shrug, one hand pushing his wet hair back from his handsome face so his biceps bulged.
Zara grew hot, all too aware that it had been almost six years since she’d been intimate with a man, and that, but for her Egyptian-cotton towel and a cheeky grin, he was stark naked and impressively endowed.
‘I did message late last night to let you know I’d arrived,’ he said. ‘Thanks for leaving out the key, by the way.’
‘I don’t check my phone when I’m working,’ she said tightly, desperate to get away from his male confidence and amused curiosity. He was making her feel like an ancient, uptight freak.
‘So is it too soon to joke about this yet?’ he asked, flashing her the kind of smile that had probably rescued him from many a tricky situation. ‘It’s one hell of an introduction story.’
Zara raised her chin, feeling foolish for her part in the misunderstanding. ‘Yes, I’m afraid it is.’ He, on the other hand, seemed to find everything amusing. ‘I’ll...let you get dressed,’ she said, wishing he were wearing more than a towel, his tall, lean body tauntingly on display.
She flushed hard. She was clearly exhausted; she wouldn’t normally be susceptible to a guy’s sexy confidence and charming smile. She turned for the bedroom door and then froze. The rumpled bed, the steamy bathroom, his freshly showered appearance finally registered, the pieces falling into place. Obviously her new laid-back lodger had entertained female company last night, and the mystery woman sneaking out of the side gate had not long left his bed. Or, more correctly, Zara’s bed. Ignoring the sudden flare of irrational loneliness—her own nocturnal activities were non-existent by choice, despite her friend Sharon’s constant urging she have a little fun—she fisted her hands on her hips and spun to confront him once more.
Having clocked the name badge on her uniform, Conrad had been about to mention that he’d taken a locum position at the same hospital, when she spun around, her lush mouth pursed with suspicion.
‘Wait...’ She frowned, her big hazel eyes taking another sweep of his naked torso before she met his stare. ‘I just saw a woman leave here, but the lease was for you alone. Single occupancy.’
She looked embarrassed to mention it, but clearly wasn’t scared of a little confrontation. And she clearly hadn’t finished confronting him. At least she hadn’t decked him with that heavy-looking candlestick...
‘It is just me. Don’t worry, she won’t be back.’ Conrad shrugged. What was a single doctor a long way from home supposed to do?
She flicked a glance at the unmade bed, her lip curling with disapproval as she slowly nodded. ‘Oh, I see... So that woman isn’t your girlfriend?’
Her stare returned to his, and then shifted over his chest. Ever since she’d decided he posed no threat, she couldn’t seem to stop checking him out. And the curiosity, the attraction, was mutual. Zara Wood was a complete bombshell—petite, brunette, her body boasting the kind of curves that made him think of bikinis.
‘Nah.’ He shook his head, not in the slightest bit embarrassed to have been caught in the act of the morning after. ‘I met her on the train. She gave me a lift from the station. It was just a one-time thing. No big deal.’
But from the way his feisty landlady was looking at him, he could tell she wasn’t impressed.
‘A one-night stand on your first night in town,’ she said with a disbelieving slight shake of her head. ‘Impressively fast work.’
Conrad smiled wider, wondering exactly what her problem was. She was only in her twenties, too young to be a prude. She had a son. Surely she must have had a one-night stand before.
‘Is that not allowed?’ he asked, fascinated by her prickly attitude. ‘I don’t recall anything in the lease agreement I signed that prohibits your tenants from having casual sex.’
‘No problem at all,’ she said, flushing but raising her chin defiantly. ‘You can have as much casual sex as you like as far as I’m concerned. Who am I to judge?’
Conrad folded his arms over his chest, chuckling to himself when her stare dipped there once more. ‘And yet you sound as if you’re judging.’
His curiosity sharpened. Who was this intriguing woman and why was she so...uptight? He could understand the whole intruder misunderstanding, but she was acting as if she’d never once let her hair down.
‘I’m not,’ she bluffed haughtily. ‘Your sex life is none of my business.’ She blushed furiously, looking away.
‘Well, I’m glad we’ve got that cleared up.’ Conrad nodded, smiling to himself.
‘However...’ Zara thrust the candlestick at him, so he took it with an incredulous snort of amusement. ‘I do have a small son, so, as your landlady, I’d appreciate it if your, um...guests could limit themselves to your half of the garden.’ She backed away towards the bedroom door as she spoke, as if she couldn’t wait to get away from him now that she had him pegged as some sort of player.
‘Of course, no worries,’ he said with a shrug and a non-threatening smile. ‘With this weather—’ he glanced pointedly at the window and the grey skies beyond ‘—I don’t think it will be an issue. It’s hardly barbecue season. But I’ll be sure to let you know of anyone else sleeping over. I don’t want my guests bludgeoned in their sleep.’ He held up the candlestick, his lips twitching with amusement. She was fascinating, formidable and so sexy.
‘There’s no need for that,’ she said, appalled, the pitch of her voice rising. ‘I don’t need to know every time you have casual sex.’
‘Are you sure?’ he teased, unable to resist coaxing out the fiery sparks of challenge from her eyes. ‘It’s no problem to flick you a message.’
He should stop antagonising her and let her get some sleep, but, for some reason, he really wanted to see her smile.
‘I’m positive, thanks.’ The smile she offered him was frustratingly tight and insincere. Then she glanced down and muttered, ‘I don’t want to be inundated with messages.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ he asked, his stare narrowing. For someone with a son and no husband, she was acting fairly high and mighty. She’d obviously made some snap judgements about him, when all he’d actually done was arrive at a property he’d legally rented half a day early. Perhaps he and his landlady weren’t going to get along after all. Shame, given they were most likely going to be work colleagues. But he wouldn’t drop that bombshell now, not when his every move seemed to infuriate her.
‘It means you clearly enjoy being single.’ She smiled brightly. ‘I know the type.’
Conrad sighed. They’d clearly got off to a terrible start and, by the sounds of it, she didn’t think much of men.
‘Anyway,’ she went on, ‘I need some sleep. I’ll leave you to it.’ She backed towards the door, practically vibrating with nervous energy, so all he could do was watch her, bewildered. ‘It was...good to meet you.’
‘You too.’ He replaced the candlestick on the mantelpiece and followed her from the bedroom into the kitchen, where she made for the front door as if the building were on fire.
‘And merry Christmas, for yesterday,’ he said as she yanked open the door, letting in a blast of frigid air that made him shiver.
‘Merry Christmas,’ she said, on a nervous squawk before she kept her stare lowered and fled up the path to her part of the house, leaving Conrad to scratch his head and wonder if he and his wildly sexy English landlady could be any more different.
