The Surgeon's One-Night Baby. Charlotte Hawkes

and the way she’d been so proud of her undaunted, determined little pet colony.

      He moved closer, his mouth nearer to her ear so that she imagined she could even feel his breath.

      ‘You want to jump?’

      ‘I have to jump, but...’ she choked out quietly, not sure whether he could read her lips.

      He nodded curtly in response, before turning to her instructor.

      ‘She can come with me. I was doing a tandem jump but my guy didn’t even make it onto the plane.’

      So Kaspar was an instructor here? Of course he was. What did the press call him? Playboy...surgeon...adrenalin junkie.

      Articles waxed lyrical about his trekking in the Amazon, skiing down avalanche-prone mountains, or diving off hundred-foot-high cliffs into sparkling tropical waters. Being a skydiving instructor on his weekends off would be a cake walk to someone like Kaspar.

      ‘You need to change harness.’

      ‘Sorry?’

      She didn’t mean to flinch as his hand brushed her shoulder. It was instinctive. Consuming.

      Now that her instructor had closed the door for the plane to ascend another six thousand feet or so, it was possible to hear each other without having to shout so loudly over the engines or the wind.

      ‘The tandem’s easier than the static line, and I’ll run you through the basics, but you’ll need to change harness.’

      And then Kaspar was addressing her, for the first time in fifteen years. She stared at him intently, as though willing up some spark of recognition, even if it was only to realise she was the kid sister who’d bugged him and Robbie. The one who had tried to get her brother to let her in when Robbie had far rather push her out. The one who had taught her little words in Persian, and chastised Robbie when he’d taught her swear words.

      She gazed and, for a moment, she thought he stared back. Holding eye contact that fraction longer than necessary. It was as though the very blood was stilling in her veins, her body hanging for a split second. Everything seemed to tilt, to change colour.

      But then he looked away, searching for the right harness, and she realised that moment had only existed in her own head. She could only watch in silence as Kaspar busied himself with the kit, slipping them both into the adult equivalent of a forward-facing baby carrier then sitting, with her perched on his lap, like the other tandem jumpers left in the plane.

      It felt surreal. Nothing about this moment remotely resembled the hundreds of naïve fantasies she’d nurtured—for longer than she cared to admit—about how a conversation with him would go if she ever saw him again.

      She’d envisaged beautiful clothes, perfect hair and make-up, and her sexiest smile. She’d imagined making Kaspar gasp at what he’d failed to see, right under his nose, all those years ago. She’d dreamed about making him chase her, just a little, before inevitably giving in to some all-consuming desire. Her innocent, wholly unrequited teenage crush finally blossoming into some movie-perfect moment.

      She had not imagined being in an aircraft in the most unflattering, unshapely skydiving suit, which bunched around the crotch thanks to her heavy harness, and, to cap it all off, too frightened to even make her jump.

      Well, she’d be damned if she was going to bottle this one, too. She had to make this jump. From ten thousand feet. With Kaspar.

      She absolutely was not thinking about how close they were going to be, strapped together in a harness, her back pressed against his front.

      Her blood was absolutely not racing away in her body, leaving her feeling decidedly light-headed and clammy.

      She was going to concentrate on the jump and be grateful for the second chance. She had to do this well.

      For charity.

      For her father.

      For herself.

      And not because Kaspar was going to be with her for every single spine-tingling nanosecond of it. Truly.

      Abruptly, everything faded to a blur, from Kaspar sorting out her gear to going through rigorous checks that would ordinarily have been completed on the ground. And then they were ready. Waiting. Her back glued to his chest.

      Somehow that inability to face him lent her confidence.

      ‘Why are you doing this?’ she asked suddenly, surprising even herself.

      Kaspar frowned.

      ‘Sorry?’

      Despite the relative quiet of the plane now the hatch door was closed, one still had to speak loudly and clearly to be heard and her murmur hadn’t been nearly loud enough.

      ‘Why are you doing this?’ she repeated, grateful that no one else would stand a chance of hearing.

      ‘Why am I doing this?’ Kaspar repeated slowly, as if checking he’d heard right.

      But she knew that cadence. Realised it meant he was choosing his words carefully. It felt like a tiny victory. She still knew him. Or a part of him anyway.

      ‘Like a lot of people up here today, I’m doing it in memory of someone.’

      ‘Who?’ The question was out before she could swallow it back.

      She could picture his face tightened, his jaw locked. So familiar even after all these years. The unexpectedness of it knotted in Archie’s stomach and stopped her heart for a beat.

      ‘We’ll be at altitude soon.’ He jerked his head to the door, clearly sidestepping her question, but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t explain why but suddenly she needed to know.

      ‘Who?’ she insisted.

      His jaw spasmed but, presumably because it was meant to be a charity jump and people had been sharing stories all day, he schooled his features into a neutral expression.

      ‘His name was Peter. I knew him...a long time ago.’

      He stopped curtly, as though it was more than he had intended to say. But it was more than enough for Archie.

       Peter? Her father?

      Archie shook her head, her lungs burning with the effort of continuing to breathe. He was doing this in memory of her own father? An odd sense of pride surged through her that even now, five years after his death, her big-hearted father still touched lives. And yet a sickening welling of emotion quickly snuffed out the pride. Kaspar clearly had absolutely no idea who she was. Despite all her earlier reasoning, that feeling of hurt, of rejection, coursed through her with all the power of a tsunami. She couldn’t possibly hope to stop it, as illogical as she knew her reaction might be.

      She opened her mouth, trying to find a way to tell him who she was. But at that moment the hatch door had reopened and her words were sucked out and into the ether before Kaspar had heard them. And as she sat there, her body feeling like lead, she was semi-aware of the other skydivers making their jumps even as her eyes blurred to everything around her.

      The next thing she knew, Kaspar was hauling her to her feet, carrying out the final procedures, and then they were moving to the door, exiting the plane, dropping for what seemed like for ever but was probably no more than thirty seconds or so.

      And without warning every thought, every emotion seemed to fall from Archie’s mind, leaving her strangely numb.

      At some point, it had to have been quite quickly, Kaspar tapped her shoulder to remind her to spread out her arms and legs in the freefall position as they rushed towards the ground, although it was as though the ground was rushing to them, her back pressed to his solid, reassuring chest. There was no chance for conversation up here, they could shout and yell and the other one would never hear them, and to Archie there was something freeing in that. For all intents and purposes she was alone, even if she could feel Kaspar’s rock-like mass securing her. As