Wanted: A Father for her Twins

The instant attraction he’d felt for her, stirred by her combination of vitality and vulnerability, was showing no signs of lessening tonight. Not a chance of it with her wearing a dress that looked like it was poured over her skin. He’d given himself permission to relax and enjoy the evening. He didn’t have to get involved, he was allowed to have fun and if he could have fun with Rosie—well, that was even better.

He ignored the nagging suspicion in the back of his mind that he was flirting with danger by spending time with her. She didn’t strike him as the type who went for brief dalliances—neither was he, for that matter—but this pull between them was there and the question had to be asked. If Rosie needed a night off from her responsibilities this could work out perfectly for both of them.

He cut across the room as she left the minister’s side, walking swiftly so he could catch her before she began another conversation.

Rosie excused herself from the health minister as another couple approached him, congratulating herself for getting off to a good start. ‘That’s two prime ministers and two ministers down in the first half-hour,’ she muttered as she weaved through the crowded room, ‘and I think I can count the minister for education as two ministers since he was hard enough work. Time for a break before dinner.’ She’d walk the room, nodding and smiling and looking like she had somewhere to go so no one stopped her to chat.

Not more than half a dozen steps later someone said her name behind her. So much for her plan.

‘Rosie Jefferson, what a happy coincidence.’

She turned, her smile immediate when she saw who it was. ‘Nick!’ And just like that, the head-spinning tingles were back, along with the desire to step into his arms and go with him. Madness! With an effort, she said, ‘What on earth are you doing here?’

‘You don’t think a simple doctor is worthy of such highflying company?’ His grin was magic as he gestured to take in the room full of politicians and other movers and shakers. Philip looked good in his dinner suit but on Nick it was elevated to a whole new level of deliciousness. His broad, straight shoulders perfectly suited to jackets, he could have stepped off a catwalk. And she knew in an instant Nick hadn’t spent nearly the same sum on his suit—another end-of-summer remnant?

‘Maybe not a question of being worthy, but is this really your usual Saturday night entertainment?’ She was fishing, shamelessly so, and she didn’t care. She needed to know whatever she could about him. How he cut his toast, where his favourite beach was, whether he had struggled to tie his bow-tie tonight…how he’d react if she reached out now and tugged on it, loosened it…She widened her eyes at the thought and swallowed. Hard. Stuttering, she tried to cover the fact her mind had wandered off into fantasy territory. Again. ‘I wouldn’t have pictured you here.’

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