dipped to Ella’s cleavage, displayed in the new D half-cup bra she’d splashed out on the previous week. ‘Except on the bust.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Despite having consumed your own weight in confectionery in the last week.’
Ella grinned as she arranged the freshly baked passionfruit florentines on the ‘treat of the day’ display. ‘I’m simply making up for lost time. I could barely keep anything down for three solid weeks.’
Ella stroked the compact bulge that made the waistband of her hip-hugger jeans dig into her tummy. Even though she could not have been more ecstatic about the pregnancy, revelling in every change it brought to her body, puking her guts up every morning had got old fairly fast. And running a cake shop, where the cloying aroma of sweetness and the bitter chicory scent of coffee had been hell on her hypersensitive sense of smell, had been a particular brand of torture she had been more than happy to see the back of. Now she could simply enjoy all the other changes—well, all except one.
Her sex drive seemed to have mushroomed at the same pace as her bosom—if the lurid dreams she had most nights, in which a certain Cooper Delaney was a key player, were anything to go by.
Only last night, she’d woken up in a pool of sweat, her skin tight and oversensitive, her already enlarged nipples swollen and her engorged clitoris pulsing with the need to be touched. She’d never been all that self-sufficient, sexually speaking, before she’d met Cooper, but she’d had to take matters into her own hands more than once in the last few weeks, while visualising Cooper’s honed, ripped body driving into her and hearing his deep laconic voice growling ‘touch yourself’ in her ear.
Heat boiled in her cheeks, at the memory of last night’s frenzied and sadly dissatisfying orgasm. And the guilt that had followed. Was it possible that her body was playing tricks on her, constantly bringing up these carnal memories of her child’s father to push her into contacting him the way she’d planned to do weeks ago?
But that was before she’d done an Internet search on him. And a simple investigation to discover his contact details had brought the panic seeping back.
Because putting Cooper Delaney’s name and the words ‘Bermuda’ and ‘snorkelling’ into the search engine had brought up ten whole pages of references, not just to him but to Dive Guys, the phenomenally successful franchise he owned and operated in most of the Caribbean. A company that had been listed on the New York stock exchange for over three years and was—according to an article in Time Life magazine—one of the fastest-growing start-ups in the region.
She’d been in shock. Then she’d been upset that he hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her the truth about himself... Then she’d thought of the secret child in her womb and she’d begun shaking so hard she’d had to lie down.
Coop Delaney wasn’t a part-time boat captain and all around beach bum living a free-spirited, laid-back, itinerant existence on a Bermuda beach—he was an exceptionally rich and well-connected businessman with the money and influence to buy and sell her and Ruby’s little cupcake bakery several hundred times over.
How could she tell a man like that she was carrying his child? And not expect him to make demands? Demands she might not want to agree to? If he’d been the Coop she’d thought he was, she would have phoned him weeks ago. But now...
‘Check out the suit in the window.’ Ruby’s appreciative whistle woke Ella from her stupor. ‘That guy’s got shoulders even a happily married woman can appreciate.’
Ella’s gaze skimmed the top of the cookie display to see a tall man, with closely cropped hair step into the café. Recognition tickled her spine, then thumped into her chest as he lifted his head and shockingly familiar emerald eyes locked on hers.
She blinked rapidly, sure this had to be an apparition conjured up by her guilty conscience—but then his sensual lips quirked and the warm spot between her legs ignited.
‘Hi, welcome to Touch of Frosting, Camden’s premiere cupcake bakery. What’s your guilty pleasure this morning?’
Ella vaguely processed Ruby’s familiar greeting through the chainsaw in her head. ‘Coop?’ The word came out on a rasp of breath.
‘Hey there, Ella.’ The apparition winked, which had heat flushing to her hairline, before it addressed Ruby. ‘You must be Ruby. The name’s Coop. I’m a friend of Ella’s.’
He held out a deeply tanned hand in greeting as Ella heard Ruby’s sharp intake of breath.
‘Hi.’ Ruby skirted the counter and grasped his hand in both of hers. ‘Cooper Delaney, right? It’s so fabulous to actually meet you.’
Ella heard the perk of excitement in Ruby’s voice and the laconic ease in Coop’s—and everything inside her knotted with panic.
‘Ella told you about me, huh?’ His voice rumbled with pleasure as the green gaze settled on her.
Say something.
Her mind screamed as she absorbed the chiselled perfection of his cheekbones, the tawny brows, the twinkle of amusement in those arresting eyes, and the full sensual lips that tilted up in a confidential smile. Arousal gripped her abdomen as blood pumped into her sex.
But then she noted all the things about this man that didn’t fit: the slate-grey single-breasted suit, the clean-shaven jaw, the short, perfectly styled hair that was several shades darker with fewer strands of sun-streaked blond.
She shook her head, a bolt of raw panic slamming into her chest as he passed his palm in front of her face. He was speaking to her.
‘Hey there, Ella, snap out of it. How you doing?’
I’m pregnant. And I should have got in touch with you weeks ago to tell you.
She opened parched lips, but couldn’t force the words out.
‘Ella’s great, she had her first—’ Ruby began.
‘Shut up, Ruby!’ The high-pitched squeal shot past the boulder lodged in her throat. Ruby’s eyebrows rose to her hairline but thankfully she obeyed the command, while Coop’s grin took on a curious tilt.
Ella skidded round the counter, galvanised out of her trance.
Get him out of here, then you can tell him. Sensibly, succinctly, and privately, without an audience of tennis players, yummy mummies, two giggling schoolgirls and your super-nosey best friend.
She owed him that much.
‘I’m taking a half-day, Rubes.’
Ruby’s brow furrowed.
Oh, dear, she’d have some explaining to do to Ruby, too. But that could wait, she thought, as she came to a halt in front of Cooper.
She tilted her head back, the effect of that lazy smile shimmering down to her toes. How could she have forgotten how tall he was? Taking a deep breath in, she got a lungful of his delicious scent.
He smells the same. Hold that thought.
But then the aroma of spicy cologne and soap and man triggered a renewed pulse of heat and the shudder of reaction hit her knees.
She grasped his arm, as much to stay upright as to propel him back out of the door before Ruby spilled any more confidential information. The bulge of muscle flexed beneath the soft fabric of his designer suit—which didn’t do much for her leg tremors.
He glanced at her fingers and grinned, pleased with her haste. ‘It’s great to see you too, Ella.’ That he didn’t seem particularly fazed by her fruitcake behaviour helped to calm some of the tension screaming across her shoulder blades. ‘I was just in the neighbourhood,’ he added. ‘And I figured we could catch up over....’
‘That’s wonderful, Coop,’ she interrupted. ‘But let’s go somewhere private so we can talk properly.’
‘Sounds good.’ His hooded gaze suggested he had made a few assumptions about her eagerness to get him alone. And talking was not at