Dr Cinderella's Midnight Fling. Kate Hardy

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      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 not home.’ Ellen flushed. ‘And I know it’s wet of me, but I can’t sleep properly without Rob.’

      ‘It’s not wet. It’s perfectly understandable.’ It had taken Jane weeks to get used to sleeping on her own after she’d split up with Shaun. Luckily she’d been the one to move, so at least there were no memories of him in her flat. ‘Ellen, I’m happy with your obs. If Rob can come and pick you up, then I’ll discharge you this morning. With conditions,’ she added firmly.

      ‘Anything,’ Ellen said, her eyes shining.

      ‘Firstly, you take it easy. Secondly, any worries at all—no matter how small or how silly you think they might be—you call me. Thirdly, any twinges, you get straight here to the department. OK?’

      ‘OK.’ Ellen’s eyes filled with tears. ‘You’ve been so lovely. If it wasn’t for you…’ Her voice cracked.

      Jane squeezed her hand again. ‘That’s what I’m here for.’ She smiled at Ellen and got off the bed. ‘You call Rob, and I’ll get the paperwork sorted with Iris.’

      ‘Thank you. Thank you so much.’ Ellen’s eyes glittered with tears.

      Warm and soft in his arms… Ed snuggled closer, then realised drowsily that he wasn’t holding someone, he was holding something. He opened his eyes. A pillow.

      She’d left him asleep, holding a pillow.

      Unless maybe she was in the shower? He listened, but he could hear nothing from the bathroom. And the sheet on her side of the bed was stone cold. She’d been gone for a while.

      Well, he supposed it was one way to avoid the awkwardness. Though it stung that she hadn’t waited for him to wake up.

      On his way to the bathroom, he saw the note on the dressing table.

      Dear Prince Charming, Thank you for last night. Hope this covers the dry cleaning bill. Cinders.

      So she’d played the game right to the end. He damped down the surge of disappointment that she hadn’t left him her number or told him her real name.

      And there was the fact that she’d left him some money. He knew she’d meant it to cover the cleaning СКАЧАТЬ