Instant Mother

Mouth tingling, she watched him, then gave an infectious chuckle. His dark hair was still too long, she saw, still brushed back and curling up over his collar. People turned to watch him as he passed, because he commanded attention.

‘Hey!’ she suddenly yelled. Hurrying to catch him up, she asked breathlessly, ‘Will I see you again?’

He halted, turned his head, and smiled. ‘Possibly. ’

Allowing him to walk on, eyes still full of warm amusement, she hefted her purchases into a more comfortable position. ‘Possibly’ meant—yes?

Unaware of the pedestrians forced to flow round her, she watched until he was out of sight. A man who made women feel just a little bit special. Not because of what he said, or did, just because he was. And it was, what? Almost a year since she’d last seen him? A lot could happen in a year. And had.

Retreating the few paces to her restaurant, she nudged open the door and edged inside.

‘You’re looking very pleased with yourself.’

Turning, she smiled at Linda, her pretty, dark-haired assistant, and handed over the shopping. ‘Am I?’

‘Mmm. So, who was he?’

‘He?’ she queried. ‘Who?’

‘The hunk you were just talking to.’

‘Oh, Stefan.’ With that odd little smile in her eyes, she murmured softly, ‘He thinks I’m trying to kill him.’

‘And are you?’ Linda asked wryly.

‘No,’ she laughed.

‘So tell.’

‘Nothing to tell,’ she denied as she led the way into the kitchen. ‘We met in an orphanage in Romania. They’d advertised for people to help renovate the old building, take out supplies. And he was absolutely useless at anything practical,’ she remembered with a grin. ‘He was eventually allowed to wield a paintbrush.’

She’d flirted with him outrageously—because he was the sort of man every woman would want to flirt with. He’d been good company, generous and kind, and yet, thinking about it now, she realised that she knew very little about him. Everyone else had shared backgrounds, family, but not Stefan. He hadn’t talked about himself at all. A man of mystery. Yet, of them all, he was the one who remained most firmly in her mind.

Still smiling, a rather reminiscent smile, she began unpacking the shopping.

‘And now he’s here. Tsk, tsk,’ Linda reproved, ‘David won’t like it.’

‘David needn’t know,’ she denied vigorously. ‘Even if there was anything to know, which there isn’t.’

‘Then why are you smiling like that?’ Linda persevered. ‘If you were really in love with David—’

‘Don’t be silly,’ she interrupted impatiently, ‘being in love doesn’t mean you don’t notice other attractive men. It doesn’t mean I want him or anything. I just—like him.’

‘David still wouldn’t like it,’ Linda persisted. ‘Especially the kiss.’

‘A kiss between friends,’ Alexa insisted. ‘It was nothing more. Meant nothing more.’ Puzzled by Linda’s persistence, she examined her face, until Linda flushed and turned away.

‘Sorry, none of my business.’

‘No,’ Alexa agreed quietly. ‘And I don’t expect we’ll meet again.’ But she hoped they would. Hoped it very much.

Her wish was granted. Six weeks later, he came in for a meal.

With a delighted laugh, she went to greet him.

‘Don’t poison me,’ he warned.

‘I won’t,’ she promised solemnly.

‘I have a niece to spoil. I fly over every six weeks.’

‘I’m glad,’ she said softly. ‘It’s good to see you again.’

‘Mmm,’ he agreed, that delightful smile in his eyes.

She seated him, gave him extra attention—and was aware of Linda’s disapproving glances. She didn’t care. It was good to see him again. He was a friend, and friends deserved special treatment.

‘No tummy ache?’ she teased when he’d finished eating.

He shook his head.

‘Then come again.’

He did.

Every six weeks, regular as clockwork, he would come along for a meal. Just one night—the first night of his stay in England. He would go to his hotel straight from the airport, register, dump his bags, and then come along to see her. But in September, everything changed.

She was busy that day, and so it wasn’t until late in the evening that she had a chance to talk to him. Collecting the jug of coffee, she walked over to his table where he was staring rather broodingly into his empty cup.

‘Need topping up?’ she asked quietly.

As though awakening from a dream, he looked up, stared round him as though surprised to find himself alone. ‘Sorry, Alexa, I didn’t realise it was so late.’

‘That’s all right. Day off tomorrow.’

He smiled rather absently.

‘More coffee?’

‘Only if you join me.’

Collecting another cup, she joined him.

‘Problems?’

‘Mmm. Need a husband, Alexa?’

Surprised, she just stared at him. ‘A husband? No. I’m already in... I mean, I have...’