A Family Worth Waiting For. Josie Metcalfe

you’ll get in Italy.’

      ‘Sorbet sounds perfect,’ she agreed, and watched as he leaned back to beckon the waiter. His shirt pulled slightly out of his waistband. Claire tried really hard not to ogle but the tantalising glimpse of tanned skin gliding over muscle proved too much temptation. It certainly distracted her from the awkwardness she’d felt when he’d been quizzing her about her family and from his comment about them coming back here together.

      Campbell placed their dessert order, aware the entire time of Claire’s gaze. He felt his heart beat faster in anticipation. He looked at her and she didn’t even bother to hide her hungry stare. He wanted her more now than he had since he’d first met her.

      ‘Let’s skip dessert,’ he suggested softly, their gazes still entwined.

      ‘Too late.’ She gestured to the fast-approaching waiter.

      ‘It’s never too late.’ His gaze didn’t waver.

      ‘I’m hungry.’

      ‘So am I.’

      Claire had no doubt as the waiter placed their plates before them that Campbell wasn’t talking about the sorbet. Their desserts started to melt as their eye contact continued. The air between them grew thick with unspoken desire.

      ‘You no like?’ The waiter, completely oblivious to the raging atmosphere, interrupted their silent exchange.

      ‘Oh, I like,’ said Campbell, his eyes never leaving Claire’s face. ‘I like very much.’

      Claire smiled at the waiter and rolled her eyes dramatically, assuring him that everything was fine. She picked up her spoon and took a mouthful of the tangy sorbet.

      ‘Mmm, I think you’re right. This definitely beats the sorbet I had in the Platz de San Marco in Venice. I didn’t think that was possible.’

      ‘Maybe it’s the company.’

      ‘Maybe.’

      * * *

      The evening air was balmy as they stepped outside twenty minutes later.

      ‘Why don’t you come back to my place for a coffee?’ Campbell kept his voice light.

      ‘Oh, Campbell, I don’t think that’s a very good idea. I’ve had a lovely evening but I think I should go home.’ Claire was surprised at how badly she wanted to go with him. Still, that didn’t make it wise.

      ‘No strings, I promise. I’ve got this great home video of a footling breech I delivered while I was in France. I thought you might be interested.’

      ‘A footling?’

      ‘Ever seen one?’

      ‘No. We just don’t deliver them any more.’

      ‘It’s fantastic footage,’ he coaxed.

      ‘OK,’ she agreed slowly, and smiled. Sure, why not? It sounded interesting. Claire knew it was a probably just an excuse to spend more time with her, but she was an adult. Whatever his motive, she was there to watch the video, make some polite conversation and then leave. Nothing was going to happen. She was sure she could keep her hormones in check for an hour or so.

      ‘I’ll drive you,’ he suggested, holding out his hand.

      ‘No. I’ll follow you in my car.’

      * * *

      ‘I really thought you were going to do a runner,’ Campbell told her as he inserted his key into the front door.

      ‘Oh, ye of little faith,’ she mocked him playfully as she stepped into his apartment. He switched the lights on then dimmed them to a soft glow. Claire wandered over to the bank of huge floor-to-ceiling glass windows offering a spectacular view of the river and the city skyline.

      ‘Wow! Nice digs,’ she complimented him as he clattered around in the kitchen, fixing coffee.

      ‘Yes, I was really lucky to find it,’ he said, carrying a tray to the lounge area where the television rested in a beautiful heavy wooden cabinet. He placed the coffee-mugs on a matching low table and indicated for Claire to sit beside him on a double-seater leather lounge chair.

      She sat sipping her coffee, watching his jeans pull and strain across his taut bottom as he found the tape and placed it in the machine. She tried not to look but, hell, he was sexy!

      He smiled at her as he sat beside her and pushed the play button on the remote. She dragged her gaze from him with difficulty as the screen flickered to life and the low moans of a woman in labour commanded her attention.

      For the next fifteen minutes Claire watched, intrigued, as Campbell deftly guided the couple through the birth of their baby. He supplied a low commentary from time to time and when Claire saw the first foot hang free from the birth canal she was totally involved and in awe of Campbell’s cool and professionalism.

      Despite the risks, the baby was delivered without a hitch and Claire felt tears prick her eyes as the emotional couple embraced Campbell and wept openly. She was touched by his handling of the sentimental moment and somehow wasn’t surprised to see his eyes shimmer with tears as he held the newborn he had helped into the world.

      ‘That was beautiful, Campbell,’ Claire said, blinking rapidly as the screen went blank.

      ‘It was one of the most incredible experiences of my life,’ he admitted quietly.

      She stood before she was tempted to turn and look at him. They were a little too close on the lounge for comfort. After witnessing such an emotional scene, Claire didn’t trust her reactions.

      ‘Why don’t you open the doors and go out onto the deck?’ Campbell suggested softly. ‘I’ll bring us out a drink.’

      The fresh air hit Claire’s heated skin like an arctic blast. She sucked in deep, cleansing breaths, waiting for her heart rate to settle. She had to get out of here. Seeing Campbell all dewy-eyed with the naked, wet newborn had started Claire’s thoughts on a path she didn’t want to go down. She had to leave. Now.

      He crossed to where she stood on the far corner of the deck, her hands gripping the railing, her back to him. He drew closer until he could feel the nervous heat radiating from her body. He was careful not to touch her, ignoring the urge to pull her against him.

      ‘Port,’ he murmured quietly, and watched her shoulders tense as she turned to face him.

      ‘Th-thanks.’ OK. One drink and then she’d leave.

      Claire sipped at the warm liquid and felt its fiery residue trail a path all the way to her stomach. She looked into the glass, swishing the liquid around and watching it coat the sides of the glass.

      He stood beside her, sipping his own drink. Nearly touching. Nearly.

      ‘Claire …’ he murmured, his voice deep and throaty. He turned to face her and the breeze enveloped him in her scent. ‘God, you smell incredible,’ he groaned as he closed the small space separating them and nuzzled her hair. He inhaled the exotic aroma of her shampoo and felt himself tighten.

      Claire swallowed as his nuzzling sent the most delicious sensations crawling along her scalp.

      ‘I really must go,’ she croaked, desperately trying to fight the fog of desire and sound like she meant it.

      ‘OK,’ he whispered, as his lips travelled to the sensitive skin of her neck where he continued to nuzzle up and down the slope of her neck and along the slant of her shoulder as far as the fabric of her dress would allow.

      Claire shut her eyes tight and felt herself swaying into Campbell. She wasn’t sure if she made it all the way by herself or if he met her halfway. Her thought processes were beginning to blur as her skin broke out in goose-bumps and her abdominal muscles contracted with desire.

      She felt the hardness of his erection immediately. Her toes curled as she heard his swift intake of breath. He pressed his lips into