The Single Dad's New-Year Bride. Amy Andrews

It couldn’t be happening. And yet it was. How could a complete stranger be so utterly fascinating?

      ‘Three, two, one. Happy New Year!’

      The ballroom erupted on a surge of cheers, breaking their intense connection. Hailey dragged her eyes away; her gaze, coming to rest on the mass of noonan beans, as Tom would call them, visible through the French doors. There was much hugging and kissing as ‘Auld Lang Syne’ was played.

      She envied them their carefree revelry. She felt like she’d aged a couple of decades this last eighteen months, her previous flibbertigibbet existence blown to the four winds. And now this. A totally unexpected reaction to a perfect stranger. Even now, desperately concentrating on the crowd through the doors, she could feel his scrutiny. The heat emanating from his tall, tuxedo’d frame.

      Hailey slowly became aware of the intimacy of some of the clinches. The couple closest to them hadn’t come up for air since the countdown had hit zero and she looked away, embarrassed to be staring at their uninhibited display.

      Callum coughed, also uncomfortable to be witnessing the couple’s unbridled passion. ‘Maybe they should get a room?’

      Hailey looked up at him to agree and then wished she hadn’t. He truly took her breath away. She stared at him again, helpless not to.

      Callum sucked in a breath. The moonlight bathed her face, danced in her hair, washed over her bare neck and shoulders, throwing her cleavage into shadow and making it infinitely more mysterious, infinitely more fascinating.

      ‘Happy New Year, Hailey.’ His voice was husky and he mentally cursed at how tremulous it sounded.

      ‘Happy New Year…’

      She realised she didn’t know his name. She thought about asking him but his gaze was on her mouth and her brain seemed more interested in that. And, anyway, not knowing his name gave her a distance from him she desperately needed.

      Callum stared at her lips, plump and moist in the moonlight. He couldn’t remember wanting to kiss anyone this badly in a very long time. He reached for her, placing his hand on her waist just where it flared into her hip and then leaned down, easing slowly towards her. Her eyelids had fluttered closed and he stopped just shy of her mouth as one lonely but very loud brain cell fought for control.

      If he kissed her mouth, could he stop? It had been a long time and he already felt inexplicably, strangely drawn to this woman. He hadn’t come here looking for this. And he certainly didn’t need it. Tom was probably on his way back to them right now. He closed his eyes, changing direction subtly and dropped a soft kiss just beside her mouth.

      It lingered. He didn’t mean it to but it did anyway, taking on a life of its own, ignoring all sense. He pulled away, dazed by how something so chaste could be having such an effect on his body.

      Hailey raised her hand to the spot where his mouth had seared her skin. She blinked, staring up at him for a long moment. His lips looked like they’d been carved by Michelangelo. She looked away, her gaze falling on the young couple closest to the French doors, still attached at the lips.

      Hailey dropped her hand, suddenly tantalised by the idea of a full-on kiss with Tom’s father. If a peck on the cheek could send her into such a spin, what havoc would the touch of his lips on hers create?

      The doors were pushed open and Tom came bursting through them. ‘I found one!’

      They both stared at Tom, who was waving a party blower in front of them. Neither of them said a thing for a few seconds. Callum recovered first, taking a step back, his hand falling away from her waist.

      Callum held out his arms and Tom ran into them gleefully. He swung him up high in the air. ‘Happy New Year, Tommy.’

      Tom giggled, hanging on tightly to his father’s neck. ‘Happy New Year, Daddy.’

      Hailey laughed at them, an automatic reaction as her sluggish brain grappled with the surge of lust that had hijacked her body.

      ‘This is for you, Hailey,’ Tom said, handing her the whistle.

      Hailey took it automatically. And joined in as Tom and his father blew their whistles at each other. Tom took great delight in hitting his father in the nose as the blower unravelled. Callum threw back his head and yelled, ‘Happy New Year’ at the moon, and Tom laughed, clinging to his father’s neck, blowing his whistle at the stars.

      Their merriment brought Hailey slowly out of her daze and she finally got into the spirit of the occasion, giving in to her inner child and also yelling at the heavens. Her heart squeezed painfully as she watched father and son dancing around the balcony. They were obviously very close and she felt the dormant bruise deep inside ache as if someone had prodded it.

      Callum pulled up beside her, giving her a wink because kissing her again was out of the question. ‘OK, Tom, time to go, it’s way past your bedtime.’

      ‘Oh, but, Dad, we’re having so much fun,’ Tom pleaded, blowing his whistle again for good measure.

      ‘No “oh, buts”, Callum growled playfully. ‘I let you stay up to see in the new year because I promised…’ He faltered as a memory of Tom last New Year’s Eve, desperately ill in hospital, sent an itch up his spine. He cleared his throat. ‘But now its bedtime for you. Say goodbye and thank you to Hailey for putting up with us.’

      ‘Thanks Hailey. It was so-o-o much fun.’

      ‘Yes, it was.’ Hailey laughed and held out her hand. ‘It was very nice meeting you.’

      Tom shook it solemnly and Hailey smiled as he gave a very big yawn for a little boy. He snuggled his head into his father’s chest and Hailey found herself wishing she could too. ‘’Night, sleepyhead.’

      ‘Thanks,’ Callum said to Hailey in a low voice. ‘You were great with him.’

      She shrugged casually as her pulse pounded through her head. ‘He’s a great kid.’

      Callum looked down at his son’s head, covered in sandy hair. ‘Yes. He is.’ He smiled at her again, before turning away from temptation and taking his leave.

      Hailey stared at the French doors for a long while after they’d gone feeling curiously deflated. She could still feel the imprint of his lips on her cheek, the pull of her attraction to him. She turned away, facing the view, forcing herself to forget him. Forget the kiss.

      But she couldn’t deny how wonderful it felt as she stared blindly at the moon-kissed gardens below. Wonderful also to have a reprieve from the darker thoughts that had dogged her earlier. She’d tried really hard since her return not to indulge in self-pity. To be her usual, upbeat self. Her time on the balcony with Tom’s father had certainly wiped out all thoughts of anything else.

      It was rather freeing and she began to believe that there was going to be a time when what had happened in London would be completely behind her.

      Her hand gripped the railing hard. Bad idea, Hails. Very, very bad idea.

      She would not try to erase the memory of one man and his son by replacing them with another.

      No matter how well the man could kiss.

      CHAPTER TWO

      ‘So?’

      ‘So what?’ Hailey fobbed off her sister.

      ‘You disappeared out onto the balcony the other night. Did you find someone to bring in the new year with?’ Rilla repeated with an exaggerated slowness.

      ‘I’m really very busy, Ril,’ Hailey said, avoiding the question again. She indicated the pile of charts she was working on. ‘See these? See that sign?’ She pointed to the sign on the wall near the light switch, ‘It says Ward 2B. This is a hospital, remember.’

      ‘So you did meet someone.’ Rilla nodded sagely as she bit into her apple.

      Hailey sighed in exasperation and threw down her pen. ‘Isn’t it