smiled back at her. ‘Coffee sounds great to me.’
‘And of course I’ll pay my half,’ she added.
He shook his head. ‘My room, my idea and my bill. Don’t argue.’
There wasn’t much she could say to that, unless she offered to treat him some other night. Which would definitely be breaking the rules—by definition, a one-night stand was for one night only. ‘Then thank you,’ she said.
‘You know,’ he said, ‘when I came out tonight, didn’t think I was going to end up sitting in bed with a perfect stranger, eating comfort food. But I’m really glad I met you, Cinders.’
‘Me, too,’ she said softly, meaning it.
The sandwiches, when they arrived, were gorgeous. The orange juice was freshly squeezed. And the coffee was among the best she’d ever tasted.
‘That was fabulous. Thank you,’ she said when they’d finished.
‘My pleasure.’
He really was gorgeous. Those piercing blue eyes made her heart skip a beat.
But she didn’t want to overstay her welcome. ‘And I guess this is my cue to leave.’
‘If that’s what you really want.’ He stole a kiss. ‘Or you could…’ He paused. ‘Stay. Tonight.’
The heat was back in his expression. How could she resist? ‘Yes.’
CHAPTER THREE
THE next morning, Jane woke with a start. She was in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, with a body curled protectively round hers.
For a moment she thought she was having some peculiarly vivid dream, remembering what it was like being part of a couple and waking up in her man’s arms. But then the body next to hers shifted and pulled her closer.
She was definitely in bed with someone else. And she’d split up with Shaun eight months ago. Which meant that the body curled round hers belonged to…She swallowed hard. She was still in bed with the handsome stranger she’d spilled champagne over last night.
Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire. What a stupid thing to do: spending the night with a complete stranger, without telling anyone where she was. Even if he did have lovely manners and had given her more pleasure in one night than her ex-fiancé had given her in two years, he was still a stranger. Anything could’ve happened.
Oh, for pity’s sake. Dr Jane Cooper was known for being ultra-sensible. She didn’t do this sort of thing.
Except…she just had.
At least she hadn’t told him her name. Hopefully their paths wouldn’t cross so they could avoid an embarrassing situation. Even if they both worked at the London Victoria, the hospital was big enough for her not to know at least half the staff; and she definitely hadn’t met him before, or she would’ve remembered those beautiful eyes.
She’d needed practically no persuasion to spend the whole night with him. And they’d spent most of the night making love. They’d actually run out of condoms, and she’d felt like the bad girl she’d never actually been.
It wasn’t that she had regrets about last night—how could she regret the way he’d made her feel?—but she really didn’t have a clue how to face him this morning. What to say. How to deal with the situation. Plus she needed to be somewhere. So the best thing she could do would be to slip quietly away before he woke. It would avoid embarrassment on all sides. Gradually, she worked her way out of his arms; when he moved to pull her back again, she gave him the warm pillow she’d been lying on, and he cuddled that closer.
Cute.
Jane smiled regretfully. Maybe if they’d met under other circumstances… But there was no point dwelling on it, and she really needed to check on a patient and talk to her boss.
She picked up her clothes from the floor and quickly dragged them on, rescued her handbag and her shoes, tiptoed over to the door, and unlocked it very quietly. When she glanced back towards the bed, she could see that he was still sleeping. ‘Thank you,’ she mouthed silently. ‘For making me feel beautiful.’
Then she remembered. His jacket. Considering it had been her fault, the least she could do was pick up the dry cleaning bill.
There was a leather folder on top of the dressing table, with the hotel’s crest stamped on it. Just as she’d hoped, it contained paper and a pencil. She slid the top sheet quietly out of the folder and scribbled a quick note on it. Then she took some money from her purse and left it on top of the note, then put the pencil on top of the banknotes to weigh them down. Finally, she closed the door behind her and fled.
Back at her flat, Jane showered—trying not to think about what Prince Charming had done with her in his shower last night—and changed into jeans and a plain T-shirt. Once she’d downed a mug of coffee, she flicked into her phone and read the article again, just to be sure that she wasn’t making a fuss over nothing.
She wasn’t.
She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. There was no point in trying to call Jenna to task over it. Her twin would simply open her big brown eyes and claim innocence, say it wasn’t her fault the journalist had written it that way. And then somehow their mother would get wind of the row and she’d have a panic attack; and the blame for that would be laid firmly at Jane’s door. Been there, done that, worn the T-shirt until it was in rags.
So instead of asking Jenna what her problem was and why she couldn’t play nicely for once, Jane sent her a very polite email, saying simply, Thank you for letting me know. Even Jenna couldn’t twist that.
And now she was going to have to do some damage limitation, as well as check up on how Ellen Baxter was doing this morning.
‘You’re supposed to be off duty, Jane,’ Iris, the senior midwife, said as Jane walked into the department.
Jane smiled. ‘I know. Thanks for sending that message through Theo last night.’
‘Did you have a good time at the ball?’
‘Yes, thanks.’
‘Are you sure?’ Iris gave her a concerned look. ‘You’re looking a bit… well, worried, this morning.’
‘You know me. Always worrying about my patients,’ Jane said lightly. She knew Iris would be sympathetic if she told the midwife about that horrible article, but she needed to tell Theo first. And if anyone was too nice to her right now, she might just bawl her eyes out—from frustration as much as hurt. ‘Talking of patients, I’m just going to see Ellen.’
Ellen Baxter was listlessly flicking through a magazine, but she brightened when Jane walked into her room. ‘Dr Cooper!’
‘Good morning, Ellen.’ Jane’s smile was genuine. ‘How are you doing?’
‘OK. I hope.’ Ellen grimaced. ‘I’m trying to relax.’
‘But it’s hard when you’re on bed rest and you want to be at home.’ Jane patted her hand sympathetically. ‘Let me have a look at your charts.’ She read through them swiftly. ‘OK. Can I check your blood pressure and your temperature?’
‘You can stick as many needles as you like in me, if it means I can go home!’ Ellen said.
Jane laughed. ‘You’re safe from needles today.’ She checked Ellen’s blood pressure and temperature, then marked them on the chart. ‘That’s good. Any twinges or spotting?’
‘None. And, believe you me, I’d say if there was,’ Ellen said feelingly. ‘I don’t want anything to go wrong. I can’t lose this baby.’
‘I know,’ Jane soothed. ‘We’re all rooting for you.’
‘Everyone’s being so nice here, but it’s just