He took a deep breath, thinking of what had happened with Carly. ‘It just seemed…possible. But obviously I was wrong.’
‘Yes. You’re wrong. And so was I. About a lot of things.’
He wasn’t sure he wanted to explore that final cryptic remark, sensing that he might find the translation more than a little uncomfortable to hear.
The fact that she wasn’t pregnant should have filled him with relief but instead he felt nothing but concern. She looked shocked and horribly pale and the bulk of his coat made her seem even more fragile.
Patrick suddenly realised that this was the first time he’d seen her without a smile on her face. In the short time they’d spent together, she’d smiled constantly. In fact, it had been her warm, engaging smile that had attracted him to her in the first place. He’d wanted to press his mouth to that smile and taste the happiness she exuded.
But her smile had gone and he knew that he was the reason the light had gone out inside her. She was right. He was insensitive.
‘Hayley—I owe you an apology.’ He tried to redeem himself. ‘Can we start this conversation again?’
‘I don’t think so. It was bad enough the first time.’ She gave a tiny, hysterical laugh. ‘Now I know why other people have one-night stands—so that they can maintain the illusion about the person they were with.’ Her hand shaking, she dragged her phone out of her pocket. ‘I’m leaving now and I don’t want you to stop me. The children aren’t watching so you don’t have to be polite.’
Patrick’s analytical mind was computing the data at his disposal. ‘But if you’re not pregnant—’
‘If you say that word again, I might just punch you.’ She dialled a number, her fingers shaking. Then she lifted the phone to her ear.
‘I just want to know why you came here.’ Suddenly it was imperative to find that out. ‘I want to understand why you came to see me.’
Her disparaging glance suggested that the answer was obvious. ‘Because we had an amazing night, and the way you kiss might just possibly be the best thing that’s ever happened to me and you seem to know more about my body than I do and although I actually did leave my knickers in your bedroom that night I—Hello, Jack?’ She turned scarlet. ‘No, no. It’s me, Hayley—No, I didn’t leave anything in the cab, that isn’t what I meant—Well, I’m wearing them. I was talking to someone else—Well, no, not really.’
Resisting the impulse to smile, Patrick leaned forward and removed the phone from her hand. ‘She just rang to wish you Merry Christmas, Jack,’ he said smoothly, holding the phone to his ear. ‘Thanks for delivering her safely. Great.’ He held the phone out of reach as Hayley made a grab for it. ‘Yes, and you, too.’ He snapped the phone shut, his eyes on her face. ‘Where were we? Oh, yes, you’d left your knickers in my bedroom and you were telling me that I’m an amazing kisser and that I seem to know more about your body than you do…’
‘Don’t get big-headed,’ she warned darkly. ‘I’ve realised that the reason you know more about my body than I do is because you’ve been trained—so it isn’t a special skill. Actually, it’s more like cheating.’
Still keeping the phone out of her reach, Patrick raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s cheating to know what turns you on?’
‘Yes, because you sort of have an unfair advantage.’ She eyed the phone in his hand. ‘You spend your days with women.’
‘Delivering their babies,’ Patrick pointed out mildly, sliding the phone into his back pocket. ‘And I can assure you that when I’m delivering babies, I’m not thinking about sex.’
‘Well, you obviously know everything there is to know about…’ Her face hot, she shifted in her chair. ‘Oh, never mind. It’s my fault for getting involved with an obstetrician. I can’t believe we’re actually having this conversation. I should never have come in, but I didn’t want to upset your sweet, lovely son who, by the way, is far too nice to have a disreputable father like you.’
Smiling, Patrick reached down and hauled her to her feet, tightening his grip on her arms when she tried to wriggle away. After a few seconds he sucked in a breath. ‘Actually, Hayley…’ His voice was tight. ‘You’d better not do that.’
‘Do what?’
‘Wriggle.’
‘Well don’t hold me, then.’
‘I have to hold you,’ he gritted, ‘or you’ll make it worse.’
‘Make what worse?’
‘My—er, problem.’ His eyes dropped to her mouth and lingered. ‘I have a rampant sex drive, remember? And you’re…very attractive. And moving against certain parts of me…’
She froze like a child playing musical statues. ‘Give me my phone back.’
‘You can move your lips,’ Patrick said dryly. ‘That isn’t the part of you that’s causing me a problem.’
Her eyes threatened him. ‘My phone.’
‘No.’ He gently removed the coat from her shoulders and dropped it over the chair. Then he stroked her hair away from her face.
She tensed like a cat. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’