The Final Seduction

‘Okay. I will.’ Drew nodded. ‘Thanks, Jack.’

‘Don’t mention it.’ The doctor glanced at Shelley and his eyes crinkled. ‘Who are you, then? I’m Jack Simpson.’

‘Shelley Turner,’ she smiled. ‘I’m pleased to meet you, Jack!’

‘Oh, so you’re Shelley!’ Jack nodded, his eyes twinkling. He looked from Drew to Shelley as he stood up and picked up his bag. ‘Maybe I should get my wife to invite you both over to dinner?’

Or maybe not, thought Shelley, watching Drew shrug his shoulders with a wry smile.

‘I’m here out of necessity, Jack,’ he murmured. ‘Shelley and I weren’t actually spending a cosy evening babysitting together.’

‘Oh, I see.’

Once Jack had gone she felt…redundant…ill at ease. And not just because her top was all sticky. With the doctor there, the room had seemed a little crowded to start removing her clothes. But now he had gone—and she only needed to take her sweatshirt off. It wasn’t as if she was about to strip down to lace panties and bra—for heaven’s sake!

She quickly peeled the top off and wrinkled up her nose. ‘Ugh!’ she said, and ran upstairs to put it in the laundry. But when she came slowly back downstairs it was to find his eyes fixed on every step she took. ‘That’s better,’ she said awkwardly.

‘You look…cooler,’ he commented, but his voice was husky.

Never had a simple white T-shirt felt more indecent. She felt it moulding itself to the contours of her body, outlining the sudden thrusting swell of her breasts. The small room felt even more crowded and even Drew had started to look distinctly agitated. ‘Let’s give Ellie this medicine,’ he said roughly.

Shelley spooned the sticky mixture into the baby’s mouth while Drew held her.

‘Good girl,’ he whispered to the baby.

Shelley held up one of the sachets which Jack had given them. ‘I’ll go and mix this up in a bottle for her.’

‘Good girl,’ he said absently.

‘Are you talking to me this time, or talking to Ellie?’

He looked up and smiled. ‘Sorry. But “good woman” doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.’

Yes, it does, thought Shelley fiercely as she sterilised one of Ellie’s bottles. Oh, yes, it does!

The baby glugged contentedly on Drew’s knee and gradually she dozed off in his arms.

‘Want me to take her?’ she whispered, but he shook his head with a smile.

‘I’m happy like this.’

‘How about some coffee?’

He gave a murmur of approval. ‘Kitten—you’re a mind-reader!’

She wished she was! Then she might have some idea what was going on in that head of his. She went out into the kitchen and hunted around. ‘I can only find instant!’ she called back, after a minute.

‘Instant’s fine!’

She stuck her head round the door. ‘Are you hungry?’

Drew made himself stare at her face, deliberately keeping his gaze as far from those amazing breasts as possible. He thought he’d rather have her in the dirty sweatshirt than in that outrageous white T-shirt. He had been just about to eat supper when she’d rung, but suddenly his appetite had deserted him.

‘No,’ he answered shortly, in case his voice betrayed him.

‘Okay,’ she shrugged.

She made the coffee and brought crackers and cheese in with it, noticing his eyes light up. Funny, she’d known he was hungry!

‘I’ll take her for a bit,’ she said softly. ‘Put her in my arms and try not to wake her.’

‘What about your coffee?’

‘It can wait.’

He carried the child over with infinite care and placed her in the waiting cradle of Shelley’s arms. Ellie barely stirred, just wriggled her body luxuriously and sighed.

Drew picked up his coffee. ‘Nice life being a baby,’ he observed, glancing over at the contented picture they made.

‘Easy,’ she agreed.

There was a pause.

He sliced some cheese off the wedge. ‘And how would you describe your life in Italy?’ he found himself asking. ‘Was that easy?’

She smiled, recognising the truce for what it was. You couldn’t really continue waging a battle when you had a dependent little baby in your care. ‘It’s a myth that life is radically different in another country,’ she mused. ‘You still eat, sleep and go shopping just the same. Of course, the climate there is wonderful—and so is the food—but I wouldn’t say that life was necessarily easier. Just different. I saw a lot of lovely things, had some fantastic experiences—like you must have done when you went travelling.’