Strange how the years in New Zealand hadn’t dampened his need to follow up on that special night he and Anastasia had shared. Her dance moves still turned him on while lying sleepless in the night. His memory drew up more pictures of the woman who’d been so generous with herself and taken all he’d offered with pleasure. Her slim neck had been pale during a London winter with no sun. That thick, dark blonde hair spread across the pillows had tantalised with its silky smoothness. She was a stunner. Then and now. And always smiling. That hadn’t changed much either, unless she was with a patient who needed consoling as he’d observed with Jonathon Black.
Why hadn’t he taken her phone number? Right now he wanted to hear her voice with its suppressed laughter or full-on happiness. Like the citrus scent, her voice had followed him to the other end of the world to pop into his mind at unexpected moments and fill him with that longing for love he’d known most of his life.
Love. Something he’d had little experience of since his parents had died. At first he’d believed his uncle and aunt would automatically love him, and when they hadn’t he’d felt he was somehow lacking. He’d tried harder to please them, only to be sent away to boarding school, where he slaved his guts out to get top grades so they’d come to love him.
When he’d met Christine he’d felt a glimmer of hope, and when they’d married the glimmer had become a beacon. It had never bothered him that she didn’t come from money. He’d wanted to share everything he had, especially his heart. But she didn’t love him, not in the way he’d anticipated. It was his bank account that had drawn her to him, and she’d made a fool of him with her promises of love. He’d rushed into marriage, wanting to be with someone he believed loved him back, to be a part of their life, to share raising a family in a loving environment such as he’d known for the first ten years of his life. Christine was finally out of his life for ever, and he didn’t regret that at all. But he was wiser, warier, and not prepared to try again and come up against a cold heart hidden behind sweet lies.
So, Anastasia. Their encounter had only involved moments on the ward, yet it felt as though a lot more of him had got caught up with her. Which he didn’t need. Wrong. He did need what she might have to offer, if it was genuine, and how was he to know that? To trust his own judgement when he’d failed abysmally last time?
Need was one thing, and it was debatable whether he did need her, or if this was unsatisfied lust. But what about want? Did he want her? Impossible to know after such a short time together. Forget his body’s reaction to her today. Just because those feelings of tenderness and longing and heat were the same as last time, they didn’t make this a ticket to wholehearted love on both sides.
For all he knew, she might be married, or in a relationship.
What about her shock when she’d turned and seen him? He recognised it for exactly what he’d felt at that moment. Total disbelief, and something like excitement. And, yes, the happiness had been in her face too. They got each other, even after three years. So, now what?
The phone rang. Noah stared at the name on the screen with distaste. The man who’d often said that if his father hadn’t married his mother then Dad would still be alive.
‘Robert.’
‘Noah, you didn’t come up to here yesterday as promised. I’ve been trying to get hold of you all day.’
He hadn’t agreed to go, let alone promised. ‘I was busy at the hospital.’ And talking to interior decorators about making his house a home again after the mess his uncle’s sons had left it in. So much for the idea it would be better to have the house in use while he’d been in New Zealand. The refurbishing was going to take months and cost a small fortune.
‘Your aunt would like to see you.’
Funny how that was the case now that Robert’s many millions had dwindled to a few. ‘I’m busy this coming weekend so I’ll come the following Saturday if that suits.’
‘It’ll have to, I suppose. We’ll expect you at twelve for lunch.’ Click. Gone. Classic Robert, who he no longer called uncle. That was a term for someone he cared about and who cared about him for more than a massive top-up of his bank accounts.
Maybe he should run away with Anastasia and have some fun, like his mother apparently had with his dad. Except running away hadn’t been the case. That was Robert’s perspective because he lived a ‘proper’ life amongst snobbish, wealthy folk. His dad hadn’t given up his medical career or his home; he’d merely shared everything he’d had with the woman he’d adored. Noah sighed and sipped his whisky. It wouldn’t hurt to apply the brakes and take things one day at a time. But it would be hard with his body craving Anastasia. Damn it, for all he knew, she might be hungry for money and happy to do anything it took to get it, including fool him into believing she meant everything she said.
Getting a little carried away here.
But that was what saving his heart had him doing, despite the caution he should be applying. Though if Anastasia truly had a happy, loving approach to life and could share that with him, he might be more than prepared to take a gamble.
CHAPTER THREE
STACEY GOT TO the hospital early and headed for the cafeteria. ‘Toast and tea, please,’ she said to the young guy behind the counter.
‘I’ll bring it over when it’s ready.’
‘You’re a star.’ Tiredness dragged at her feet. Most of the night had been spent tossing and turning and wondering how she was going to broach the subject of Holly with Noah. At five, she’d thrown the blanket aside and gone into her daughter’s bedroom and stood staring down at the little body of magic. How she’d managed to produce such a gorgeous child was beyond her.
From the day Holly had been born Stacy had been head over heels in love with her, and nothing had changed. Not because she’d had to give up her newly found independence and single life, not because she had to rely on her mum and dad to look after Holly while she went to work and added money to the household. Not because she was so tired at times that she could barely stand up. All of those things and more were worth it just to have her girl in her life.
Sitting down, she checked her phone in case her mum had tried to get hold of her. Nothing. She could relax. Though with Noah back in the picture it wasn’t that straightforward. Her reaction to him yesterday had been over the top. Yet she’d loved the excitement pouring into her. He’d rocked her boat the first time they’d met, and yesterday he’d gone and done the same all over again. She could admit to never feeling like that about Angus but, then, they’d been so familiar with each other it probably hadn’t been possible.
‘Here you go.’ Her toast and mug of tea appeared on the table before her.
‘Thanks.’ A sense of familiarity struck her, warmth and excitement winding her tight and fizzing in her veins. Her skin prickled. Glancing around, she found Noah Kennedy watching from a table across the room with a thoughtful expression darkening his eyes. A shiver rippled through her. She stared at him; really looked at him. Not as a lover, or as Holly’s father, but as a man she barely knew yet yearned for in every way imaginable. There weren’t enough answers to all her questions in his steady gaze, yet still she believed in him, and wanted more.
Noah got up, mug in one hand, a plate in the other, and came across. ‘Mind if I join you?’
‘Of course not.’
Far from it. She’d put difficult su
bjects on hold for now and spend time enjoying his company. Who knew what she might learn? Or she could just spill the beans and see where that went. In here? With someone she knew likely to pop in at any moment? Maybe not.
‘You’re in early.’
‘There wasn’t a lot in my pantry and, anyway, hanging around waiting for the toast to burn is a waste of time.’
‘You wouldn’t think to turn the knob down a little?’
‘Knew I should’ve asked someone how to fix my problem.’
‘Where do you live?’
‘Bloomsbury.’
No way. Her stomach dropped hard. He was having her on. But looking at him she knew he wasn’t. Gulp. ‘Nice.’ Very nice, if you were into that sort of lifestyle, and she doubted she’d ever be. She was comfortable with little money and a small, crowded house filled with those she loved.
Watching her intently, he said, ‘It has its uses, like being close to everything I enjoy about this city, for one.’
‘I suppose you don’t need a monthly train pass.’ She smiled. What did it matter where he lived? Unless he wanted to use that as leverage to gain more access to Holly than she was prepared to give. Her skin prickled. Holly. Caution rose as reality sank in. She really knew very little about this man. Her palms moistened. Was it enough? It had to be. Holly existed. No changing that.
‘Trains are the easiest way to get around. No parking worries.’ He was still appraising her.
‘Is there a problem about something?’ May as well be direct.
‘Not at all.’ The appraisal continued, then he leaned back in his chair with a wry smile. ‘Sorry. I’m still getting used to the fact we’ve met up again.’
She wasn’t about to admit to the same thoughts. ‘Have you been in London for the last three years?’
‘No, I left for Auckland the morning we woke up in my hotel room. I went for a year and stayed three. I hated leaving.’