More Than Just One Night
By
Claire Baxter
Text copyright © 2013 Claire Baxter
All Rights Reserved
Cover image: Yuri Arcurs | Shutterstock
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
About the Author
Chapter 1
Cora couldn’t believe she’d done it. True, the evidence was sleeping alongside her, and gorgeous evidence he was, but if someone had told her yesterday that she’d be spending the night with a man, she’d have laughed. Loudly. Since her husband’s fatal heart attack, she’d had enough to contend with just getting through each day; she hadn’t had the time or desire to even think about...well, this sort of thing. And if someone had told her that she’d be spending the night with a younger man, she’d have asked them what they were on.
But last night, she’d met Alex, and six years of celibacy had ended in spectacular fashion. She turned her head on the pillow to gaze at his face, all sharp angles and firm lines in the sunlight streaming through the window. No salt and pepper in his black hair, but then there wouldn’t be, would there? Because he was only…what? Early thirties? Thirty-five at a push.
What would he think when he saw her in daylight?
Oh, hell, that couldn’t happen. What an idiot! She should have gone back to her own room while it was still dark. Now she had a problem. Not only how to get out of bed without waking him, but how to make it from his room back to hers without being seen by all sorts of people on the way. Any number of them could be delegates at the same conference, which meant there was a good chance of bumping into someone she knew, and if her obviously-from-the-night-before dress didn’t give her away, her bed hair definitely would. Gah! How had she got herself into this situation?
The covers were tangled between his legs, and there was no way she’d be able to extricate them without disturbing him. No chance of doing the only-in-the-movies glide out of bed with the sheet wrapped around her, then.
She edged her way across the bed, then went for it, swinging her legs over the side and rising to her feet in one movement. Holding her breath, she looked back at Alex, but he didn’t so much as murmur in his sleep. She exhaled with relief. Now to find her clothes.
Having gathered all her belongings she locked herself in the bathroom and turned on the light. With trepidation she looked in the mirror and her hand shot to her mouth. The make-up smudges beneath her eyes, made her look even older than her forty-two years. She looked nearly as bad as she felt, and that was pretty bad. Too much wine.
She could only be grateful that she hadn’t been seen in this state by the thirty-something eye-candy sleeping in the other room.
What had she been thinking, dropping off to sleep like that?
What had she been thinking when she’d made the decision to sleep with him?
She shook her head at her reflection. She wasn’t this woman. She didn’t make snap decisions; she was a planner to the point of obsession, and she certainly hadn’t planned to do something so out of character.
After scrubbing her face, she scrambled into her clothes, hurrying in case he woke while she was in his bathroom. The alcohol had been a factor, of course, but wasn’t to blame entirely. The truth was, she’d been thoroughly flattered when Alex had flirted with her. It had been so long since a man had shown any interest in her at all, and the shock of finding herself on the receiving end of his attention had made her lose all semblance of common sense. It was the last night of the conference with no scheduled activities, so when he’d suggested dinner, she’d been happy to share a table with him.
There was a big difference between sharing a table and sharing a bed, of course, and she had no reasonable explanation for making the leap from one to the other. She’d felt as if she were role playing, and being away from home had contributed to a sense of an alternate reality. The knowledge that no one need ever know what she’d done had been the clincher. She could, so she had. Simple as that.
She had no make-up in her handbag, but she did find a comb, and she flattened her hair into something approaching presentable. It wasn’t good, but would have to do. If she kept her head down, hopefully no one would recognise her from the conference. She’d barely have time to shower once she reached her room, before packing and catching a taxi to the airport, and that suited her just fine. She didn’t want time to think about what she was doing.
Later, as she sat on the plane heading home, Cora finally let herself think about the man she’d left behind. Leaving had been the only option. Even disregarding the fact that Alex couldn’t seriously be interested in her, anything beyond a one-night stand with him was impossible for her.
For a start, she had grown-up children. How would Fern and Justin feel about their mother sleeping with another man, let alone with someone like him? Would they call him a toy boy? Even the words turned her stomach. Cora couldn’t bear the mortification of people knowing her personal business. She wasn’t the sort of woman to flaunt her ability to attract a younger lover. She was private about her private life. Not that there had been any private life to be public about for a long time. Besides, she had an image to maintain as a no-nonsense business woman.
Having taken over the family engineering company on Paul’s death, she’d been determined that no one would take advantage of her; she wouldn’t allow anyone in the industry to find a chink in her armour, and Alex…well, he would be more than a chink. More like a gaping hole. People would talk. Her employees would gossip about her.
No, no, no. She could never put herself in that position. So, yes, leaving him without a word was the right thing to do, but still a nagging disappointment lingered. She knew nothing about him. They’d deliberately avoided talking about their jobs, agreeing within the first few minutes of meeting that work was off the agenda for one night. They hadn’t exchanged surnames. It had all added to the excitement of the evening, and she had to admit, she’d been very excited. The sex…oh god, the sex had been like nothing she’d ever experienced, but she’d been a staid married woman for half of her life so that was hardly surprising. She grabbed the safety instruction card from the seat pocket in front of her and fanned her face.
Her elderly neighbour looked up from her magazine. “Horrible, isn’t it? I suffered terribly with them myself. Mine were so bad I thought global warming was my fault.”
Cora gave the woman a weak smile. Wonderful to be reminded that she looked her age. She took a file from her briefcase and opened it. Not that she was trying to be unfriendly, but she had too much on her mind for small-talk. She shook her head at the flight attendant who offered her breakfast. Her churning stomach wouldn’t let her think about food. Between the alcohol she’d consumed the previous night and the tension this morning, it was like a washing machine.
The figures on the page in front of her made no sense. She let her head fall back against the headrest and closed her eyes, glad that she had the weekend to recover from the conference, and her after-hours activities, before she had to throw herself into another working week. Fern w
as coming to stay, and her new boyfriend was joining them for the weekend. Cora was looking forward to meeting him.
Thirty-six hours later, Cora took her seat at a table in her favourite Newcastle restaurant, silently fuming. Fern sat beside her and across the table, Russell, Fern’s boyfriend. Ha! Boyfriend indeed. He was older than her. She’d been struggling to hide her feelings ever since the two of them had arrived in his Jaguar. As soon as she’d seen the car roll up she’d known that this was no twenty-something lover that Fern had brought to meet her. And the irony of her own liaison with a man younger than this one had not been lost on her.
“Sorry, I just need to….” Fern got to her feet again with a vague wave towards the rear of the room. “Will you order for me, darling?”
Russell gave Fern an indulgent smile. “Of course, sweetness.”
He was handsome, she’d give him that, but at Fern’s age she shouldn’t find greying temples attractive, should she? This was so much worse than her last boyfriend, the one with the safety pin through his eyebrow. Cora had been tempted to ask whether it was holding his eyebrow in place and if it was prone to falling off. She’d restrained herself, though, aware that her humour wouldn’t be appreciated. That boy was monosyllabic, but at least he was in Fern’s age-bracket.
She waited till Fern was out of earshot then pinned Russell with her best glare. “So, Russell, what are you doing with someone as young as my daughter?”
He looked up. Surprise melted from his face as he met her glare with a stony expression. “Really, Cora, you don’t want me to answer that literally, do you?”
“Yes. No!”
One eyebrow lifted.
She clenched her jaw, but consciously relaxed it when she spotted Fern heading back towards them. What? She’d never been so quick in the bathroom at home. “She’s coming back already. We’ll continue this conversation later.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
The short exchange had left Cora even more determined that the relationship had to end, but she had enough parenting experience to understand that the very worst thing she could do was tell Fern what she really thought.
Fern slipped back into her seat. “Have you ordered?”
“Not yet,” Cora said. As she took her glasses from her handbag so that she could read the menu, she saw Russell reach into his jacket and take out a pair of his own.
“Awful when you get to our age, isn’t it?” she said with a fake smile and a nod at the glasses in his hand. “One of the first signs of getting old.”
And as she bent her head over the menu she caught a glimpse of Fern’s grimace, and mentally chalked up a point. Game on, Russell.
Chapter 2
Three weeks later, while she waited for her wholemeal toast to cook Cora leaned against the kitchen bench and glanced over the spreadsheet she’d printed in preparation for her Monday morning meeting. She wanted to believe that her case was solid, because she needed a win out of this mediation. The client was happy with the work that Selwoods had done on his project, just not with the hike in costs they were claiming.
The toaster flung her slices into the air, and jerked her brain away from the figures she was studying.
“Morning, Mum.” Fern picked up one of the toast slices from the counter-top, and nibbled on the corner. “Do we have any bacon? I feel like bacon for breakfast.”
Cora frowned. “No. You know I don’t buy bacon because of the—”
“Cholesterol, I know. But I like it. What about eggs? You could scramble some eggs for me.”
“You could scramble some eggs for yourself. I have to go to work. And that’s my toast you’re eating.”
She spread her single remaining slice of toast with cholesterol-lowering margarine. “Did I hear Russell come in with you last night?”
“Yes. Why?”
This was horrible. She’d hoped that by now Fern would have tired of a man old enough to be her father. Was that what was going on here? Was Fern looking for a father figure because Paul had passed away when she was a vulnerable teenager? Her toast tasted like cardboard when she bit into it. Fern might be in her twenties now — just — but she was still as vulnerable as that teenager had been. The trouble was, she was too old for Cora to lay down the law about who she should and shouldn’t see.
Being so busy she rarely had time to manage a proper conversation with Fern. Tonight, she would have to do it. The only problem was how to word her concerns without causing Fern to take umbrage and leave. The last thing she wanted to do was lose her daughter over this.
Fern was beating eggs in a bowl. Her spreadsheet, she noticed, was already spattered.
“Keep it in the bowl, Fern,” she snapped as she retrieved the sheet of paper. “I need this for a meeting, and I don’t have time to print another copy.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have left it there, then.”
Cora pressed her lips together. It was her kitchen. She had a right to leave her paperwork wherever she damn well liked.
“You’re always like this in the morning,” Fern said. “Grumpy. You are so not a morning person.”
Cora said tightly, “I have to go.”
“Oh, Mum,” Fern called as she neared the door. “We’re out of milk. I’ve just used the last in my eggs. You’ll get some more today, won’t you?”
She was doing her best to keep the family business going in a tough economic climate; her schedule was so packed she’d be lucky to take a bathroom break. She certainly wouldn’t have time to run out for milk. She’d show Fern grumpy.
“Are your arms and legs painted on, then?” she said as she swung around.
Fern’s eyes widened. “What?”
“You used the milk, you replace it. And make sure you clean up the kitchen when you’ve finished. I don’t want to come home to your mess all over the place. It’s about time you thought about someone other than yourself.” Cora stopped herself before she could say more than she wanted to, and stalked out.
When she reached the office Cora had to put Fern and her so-called boyfriend out of her mind, as difficult as it was to do. Eric, her husband’s long-term friend and a non-executive director of the company was waiting for her in the outer office. She occasionally called on him when she needed moral support in a meeting and because he’d always been so much like Paul, his views gave her a clue to the decisions that Paul might have taken in the same circumstances. She called on him less now than she had in the first years following Paul’s death, but still, he believed he had a right to advise her on anything and everything, and not just the business at hand.
She’d always felt that he disapproved of her taking over from Paul, and that nothing she did was quite good enough. The irony was that Selwoods was her father’s business. Paul had been production manager, eager to step up when her parents had died overseas and left the business to their three daughters. He’d proven to be a very capable managing director, though, and she’d only had the confidence to take on the role herself because she’d learned so much from him.
“Steven’s not here yet?” Cora said as she unlocked her office.
Eric tossed the magazine he’d been reading onto the coffee table. “I haven’t seen him yet. I’ve asked Lily to make a pot of coffee and get the conference room set up for us.”
“Oh, have you? Was Lily okay with that?” Cora entered her office, leaving Eric to follow her.
“Why shouldn’t she be?”
“Because Lily is office manager, not office junior.”
Eric shrugged. “She didn’t say she had a problem with it.”
No, she wouldn’t. That was the trouble with her youngest sister, she was too nice for her own good. She let people walk all over her, including that husband of hers. Cora clenched her jaw and brought her mind back to this morning’s meeting.
“Do you think we have a solid case?”
“Hard to say. If Steven has justification for all of the variations he’s claiming, then, yes.”
“He tells m
e he has.” Cora laid her briefcase on her desk just as the internal phone rang. She reached for it. “Yes, Joan.” She caught Eric’s eye and nodded. “Okay, put them in the conference room. We’ll be along in a moment. Oh, and can you chase up Steven, please?”
She hung up. “They’re early.”
“What do you know about this mediator they’re bringing?”
“Nothing. I don’t even know which one they selected.”
Eric raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was supposed to be a mutual decision?”
“They sent me a list of names they’d been given by the Institute, but I said they should just choose whichever one became available first. I really didn’t see the point in slowing things down by being picky. I’m sure they’re all much the same as each other.”
Eric frowned at the spreadsheet she’d taken from her briefcase. “This is a mess.”
“Breakfast,” she said. “Fern’s.”
He didn’t try to hide his disapproval.
“Let’s go through to the conference room,” she said.
Steven arrived as they left the office and made his excuses for being late.
Cora shook her head. “Never mind that now. They’re waiting for us.”
Chapter 3
The last time she’d seen him he was naked.
Cora forced herself forward, but her brain wasn’t capable of moving on from this thought.
Alexander Hill was his name she learned from the introductions.
Alex.
Her Alex.
He too looked stunned, but at least he was still able to talk to make the introductions, whereas she could do nothing but stare. The client had brought along two senior people she hadn’t met before, but their names slipped straight from her consciousness. She took her seat, and only just in time because her legs wobbled alarmingly as she sat. She glanced at Eric. He was watching Alex, apparently oblivious to her turmoil.
More Than Just One Night (The Selwood Sisters Novellas) Page 1
