The Surgeon's One-Night Baby

by Charlotte Hawkes

  And then something changed, so quickly, so suddenly that there was no chance to pre-empt it.

  Photographers were crowding in on them, their manner not quite that of the ball’s official photographers and Kaspar tensed instinctively. He glanced around, but the security team seemed relaxed and comfortable, and not wanting to make a scene he forced himself to stand down. Ordered himself not to let his imagination, or his worst fears, run riot.

  Kaspar had no doubt a hundred cellphones had been capturing them all night, in order to post on the various crude forms of social media so many of the so-called charity supporters favoured. But it didn’t bother him.

  He only cared about Archie.

  And then...

  He thrust her back, gently but firmly, shock pulsing through him.

  ‘Was that...?’

  ‘The baby kicking,’ she whispered, nodding, her eyes locked onto his as though, like him, she could barely register the other people in around them, the music, the noise.

  Tentatively, he reached his arm out and then stopped. Only for Archie to take his hand and place it over her stomach. The kick bounced against him almost immediately. Hard, strong, playful.

  Until this point, he’d appreciated everything in the abstract. Whatever other buttons being with Archie had pressed, the baby had always been something he’d known within context. Logically.

  Suddenly, there was nothing reasoned or logical about it. Emotions coursed through him and he had absolutely no control over them. But instead of terrifying him, or worrying him, it was almost...freeing.

  Right up until the throng crowded around them, jostling as they vied for position. Kaspar looked up and saw Archie’s face turn from elation to panic. Watched helplessly as she stumbled back a step, a hair’s breadth out of his reach so that he couldn’t catch her.

  And he lost it.

  He didn’t know what happened next but he had a vague recollection of trying to protect Archie, of grabbing a camera that was so close to her face she squealed and fell back, of it somehow smashing. Not what he’d intended but he didn’t care right now. At some point he managed to haul Archie into the safety of his arms. The way her hands clutched at him as though she trusted him, and only him, to protect her, only heightened the wild, savage possessiveness with which he was already fighting a losing battle.

  She was his. No one else’s. His.

  He had no idea how he didn’t just scoop her into his arms and carry her out of the room. Probably because he knew that might have made her feel undermined and overly fragile, but, still, he recalled bundling her out of the ball and into his car. Throwing himself to the other side of the back seat just so that he didn’t give in to this rushing, roaring urge to claim her as his, right there and then in the back of the car.

  It was a lethal combination of anger, and fear, and that flicker of helplessness when he’d seen her stumbling and had been unable to get to her in time. Watching it all happen in sickening slow motion. Just like that night when he’d lost control in that back alley fight, doing the only thing that had come into his mind to save himself. Realising too late that if he hadn’t been who he was—Kaspar Athari—the thug would probably never have bothered to have a go in the first place.

  And if Archie was any other pregnant woman, would the press have crowded in on her like they had? Or was it because of him? Because she was carrying his child?

  Kaspar already knew the answer. Of course he did. He should have known better than to risk Archie like this. He should have kept her well away from here.

  The car ride couldn’t end soon enough. He was out of the door before the vehicle had even come to a stop. Racing around, he snatched open Archie’s door and, this time he didn’t fight the impulse to lift her into his arms and carry her, still trembling, through the house and to her rooms. Only once he was sure she was settled and okay did he leave, stalking through the corridors until he came to his suite, hauling his clothes over his head, slamming the shower on and stepping inside.

  * * *

  Icy-cold water spilled over his body, biting and unforgiving. But it still couldn’t assuage the fire inside him that raged so fiercely it felt as though it was devouring him from the inside out. As it had been all evening, when they’d been so close, so intimate on that dance floor, oblivious to anyone and everyone around them.

  There had only been Archie. In perfect, crystal-clear, vibrant detail. Her hand folded into his, her fragile body standing side by side with him. All night. And he had beaten back every single urge to drag her off somewhere more private and haul her onto his lap. Had intended to when he finally got her home.

  And then the incident with the photographers had occurred. He’d lost control. Smashed a camera, though he couldn’t even remember how. It was all such a blur but it rammed home, in no uncertain terms, that Archie was much better off without him.

  And still Kaspar could barely restrain himself from slamming the shower off and pounding down that corridor to Archie’s room. Every fibre of his being wanted to drag her back into his arms, lower her onto that bed and drive so deep inside her than he didn’t know where he ended and she began.

  Pressing his hands to the travertine tiles, Kaspar forced himself to stay where he was, rooting himself to the huge porcelain shower tray. Chill water still coursed off his shoulders, down his chest, his back.

  He didn’t hear the click of the door but instantly he knew she was in the room. His entire body knew.

  Slowly, very slowly, he lifted his head and turned.

  She didn’t speak but she actually braced herself. The move was almost imperceptible but for the fact that it caused the lapels of her silken nightgown to fall open, exposing the creamy valley of exposed skin and a tantalising glimpse of her breasts, which he’d been imagining kissing, tasting only a few minutes earlier.

  It was more than his body could take and as though he was some kind of adolescent kid all over again, Kaspar found his body reacting in the most primitive way it could. He could turn away or he could stand there and ride it out.

  His muscles spasmed and clenched as she let her eyes drop down over his body, as surely as if it were her fingers scorching a trail over his skin instead. And then the slight widening of her gaze, the way she sucked in a deep breath, the way her chest swelled that little bit more.

  He tightened, so hard it was almost painful. The way only Archie seemed to be able to do to him.

  ‘Stop pushing me away,’ she whispered, the longing in her tone twisting inside him worse than any knife or scalpel could have.

  ‘You saw what happened tonight. It’s better for you if I keep my distance.’

  His voice rasped, raw and unfamiliar.

  ‘Why? Because you protected me from the kind of gutter photographers who, unlike their welcome, wanted, respectful, carefully selected press colleagues, had never been invited in the first instance? Who had snuck in for the very purpose of causing trouble; pushing me and shoving their cameras into my face and against my stomach? They acted like animals.’

  ‘Exactly like I acted.’

  ‘Nothing like you acted,’ she exploded. ‘You were defending me. Anyone could see that. I was scared and you saved me. Besides, it was nothing compared to the way the security guards rough-housed them out of there, or didn’t you see that?’

  ‘I know what happened,’ he lied. All he could recall was Archie’s pinched expression, the fear in her eyes. ‘I smashed that guy’s camera. I lost control. Just like I lost control in the alley with that kid that night.’

  She looked at him like he was crazy. It almost made him want to laugh. Almost.

  ‘Firstly, that man in the alley was eight years older than you and looking for trouble. Secondly, you did not break any camera.’

  ‘I grabbed it, it smashed.’

  ‘You took it out of my face. That’s all. The photographer tried to snatch
it back and some security guy punched it out of his hands and into the post behind him. So forget that one, tainted moment, and remember the rest of the evening,’ she whispered. ‘Remember how good it was. And don’t pull away from me now.’

  He wanted so much to believe her. To take what she was offering him. But he couldn’t.

  If he stood here, enduring the icy waterfall still on his body, then maybe he could withstand the unfamiliar sensations that zipped around his chest. Which made him...feel. And wonder. And yearn.

  ‘I have to. Because if I don’t, if we start things, I don’t know if I can stop myself around you. And we have to think of the baby.’

  ‘That’s an excuse. It might be a factor, even though I’ve told you I feel ready, and even though you’ve heard what the doctor has said in every check-up I’ve had, but it isn’t the real reason you push me away.’

  ‘Then what is?’

  ‘That’s the part I don’t know.’ She bit her lip. ‘I don’t think even you know for sure.’

  He just about managed not to flinch. Her words cut closer to the bone than he ever could have imagined. She knew him so well. Maybe too well.

  ‘So,’ he bit out, his tongue feeling too big for his mouth, ‘if we’re done here, perhaps you’d care to leave me to have the rest of my shower in peace?’

  The pause stretched out between them.

  ‘Not a chance,’ she eventually muttered thickly.

  Before he could move, Archie had untied the satin belt and let the dressing gown slide off her shoulders and down over her bump in one easy movement. Far from detracting from the moment, the fact that she was swollen with their baby—with his baby—only made her all the sexier.

  Still, he should stop this, stop her, but she was walking into the shower enclosure with the air of a woman who knew exactly what she was doing and he found it utterly mesmerising.

  Worse, though, was that gleam in her eyes. As though she saw a man the rest of the world had missed. As though she saw him the way no one else ever had—a better man. And when she looked at him that way, he so desperately wanted to be that man.

  Suddenly, she was there, and Kaspar barely had time to turn the temperature up as she closed the last bit of distance separating them. The tips of her fingers grazed over his torso so feather-light he couldn’t be sure it she’d actually touched him or if it was just the movement of air, and the wickedest of smiles toyed at the corners of her ridiculously carnal mouth.

  What the hell was he meant to do with this woman?

  And then her lustrous eyes not leaving his for even a second, Archie dropped to her knees, curled her fingers around his sex, and licked the droplet on the tip, which had nothing to do with the water cascading over him.

  He was so nearly lost it took him a moment to move. He tried to step backwards but she was still holding onto him and, honestly, he didn’t try very hard.

  ‘Let go, Kaspar,’ she murmured. ‘Stop trying to control everything and let me take the reins. Just for once.’

  And then she took him into her mouth, hot and libidinous. So good it might well have also been immoral. He’d had this done to him before. Many times. A perfect sexual release.

  But it had never, ever felt like this. Watching Archie move over him, feeling her hands, her tongue, even the graze of her teeth on him, and also experiencing these complicated emotions swirling around his chest.

  Nothing had ever felt so like...this.

  He gave up trying to think and finally tried to do what she’d instructed. Leaning back on the tiles, because his legs suddenly felt absurdly weak, he buried his hands into her hair and allowed her to take charge.

  He wanted her. Needed her, even. And whatever he tried to tell himself, he knew it wasn’t just the sex. It wasn’t just the way she sucked on his head and then slowly drew his thick, solid length deep into her mouth.

  It was her.

  He wanted everything with her. No one else could ever possibly have convinced him to give up the reins like Archie had. And yet here he was, completely at her command. And a part of him thrilled in it.

  She started slowly. Deliberately. Setting an unhurried pace as though she was intent on savouring every last moment. She licked him, and sucked him, swirling her tongue over him and using her fingers to apply just the right amount of pressure exactly where he needed it.

  He heard himself groan, but he was no more in command of his voice than he was of his body. Instead he was completely and utterly at Archie’s mercy and, as though she understood just how much she held the power at this second, she teased him until he thought he was going to die.

  And then, suddenly, he was all too shamefully close. As though he was the kind of overexcited adolescent he’d never actually been.

  Wrenching himself from her touch, Kaspar ignored her cry of protestation and scooped her up into his arms even as he shut the water off with a flick of his wrist.

  ‘I wasn’t finished.’

  ‘I nearly was,’ he growled, which only seemed to elicit an exceptionally cheeky grin from Archie.

  ‘That’s why I wasn’t done. So where are we going instead?’

  ‘Where do you think?’ Kaspar demanded, carrying her through to his bedroom and depositing her carefully on the enormous bed.

  He’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted Archie. In some dark recess, a voice asked whether he thought he’d ever get enough of her, and alarm bells jangled so loudly there might as well have been a belfry in there.

  But he refused to heed them. Instead he muffled the sound.

  Still, even as he moved over the bed next to Archie, his hands cradling the beautiful swell to her body, he couldn’t help checking.

  ‘Are you sure about this?’

  ‘I’ve been ready for months,’ she groaned, but it was softened with a smile.

  The tremble of her body almost sent him over the edge again.

  Dropping his head, his lips sought hers, demanding, claiming her as if her mouth was his to take, tilting his head until the fit was perfection itself. As though he could kiss her for ever and never tire of it. Archie looped her arms around his neck, pressing her body, her bump, against him. Not too tight, just enough, as his hands caressed her belly. The fire between them was hotter than ever, threatening to burn out of control at any moment.

  Ignoring the deep, heavy throb still clutching at his sex, Kaspar lavished attention on her. When he’d finished kissing her mouth, he moved to her jaw, her ear, her neck, inching his way down her body until she was arching into him and wordlessly begging him for more. When his lips finally alighted on her breast, pulling one exquisite nipple into his mouth as she gasped in pleasure, he at last allowed his hand to wander lower.

  She groaned again, her voice an insubstantial whisper.

  ‘Kaspar, I need you to...’

  ‘To what?’ he demanded mercilessly, his mouth still full of her soft flesh, his fingers tracing an intricate pattern over her hips.

  ‘To...touch me.’

  ‘I am touching you.’ He switched his attentions to her other breast, half enjoying himself, half fighting the urge to pull her on top of him and slide inside her. Finally branding her as his.

  Just like he had that first night.

  ‘Not there,’ she managed hoarsely.

  ‘Ah.’ He allowed his fingers to wander to the top of her thigh, repeating the pattern on the outer side. ‘Here?’

  ‘Kaspar,’ she moaned, shifting on the bed, subconsciously parting her legs for him, drawing him in.

  ‘Here?’ he teased, moving his hand back up until it was stroking her abdomen again.

  He lifted his head and she caught his gaze. But this time, instead of the needy sound that threatened to undo him, she pursed her lips into a sinful grin, her hooded eyes were loaded with wanton need.

  ‘Perhaps you need a little reminder,’
she murmured, moving her own hand down to flutter over him, his body reacting instantly.

  He heard the guttural sound, but it took a moment to realise it was him. Her touch was like some exquisite torture. He’d never known it was possible to ache quite like this. Too incredible to be bad yet too painful to be good.

  He sought out her core. So slick, and hot, and ready. His fingers played with her, moving over her at a pace that was faster than he would have liked but he couldn’t seem to stop himself, especially at Archie’s soft, urgent moans. And then he didn’t know who moved first, him or her, but Archie was astride him, one of his hands on her belly and one cupping a heavy, perfect breast.

  ‘Condoms?’ she muttered.

  ‘Top drawer.’ He jerked his head towards the nightstand, before adding unnecessarily, ‘The pack Catherine gave you.’

  As though he needed her to know he hadn’t bought them for anyone else. In actual fact, he had never brought anyone else into this space.

  He watched her open the foil packet, fumbling slightly with her shaking fingers, rolling it down his length with excruciating care. And then Archie was moving over him, guiding him inside as he watched her face for any sign of discomfort. When he finally, finally slid inside her wet heat, felt her stretching around him, gripping him tightly despite the slightly shallower depth, he wasn’t sure he would last at all. Experimentally, she began to move.

  ‘Okay?’ he checked.

  She nodded, tentatively increasing the pace, and it was all Kaspar could do not to move inside her the way his body longed to do. He wanted to move faster, thrust into her deeper and harder until she shattered around him. But he couldn’t. Not yet. He tensed with the effort, only realising it when she stroked his jawline, a soft laugh escaping her lips.

  ‘Relax, I’m fine.’

  ‘Sure?’