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

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      Callum chuckled. ‘Nearly.’

      ‘Fifty-two, fifty-one, fifty…’

      ‘You’d better get back in there,’ Callum said, looking down into her face. The moonlight emphasised the cute spray of freckles across her nose, illuminating each and every one. ‘Your partner is probably looking for you.’

      ‘Oh, no.’ Hailey shook her head. ‘I’m here by myself.’

       What the…? Why had she told him that?

      ‘Forty-two, forty-one, forty…’

      Interesting. ‘Here, matey, I got you one of these,’ Callum said, handing a party blower to a suddenly excited Tom, who was hopping from one foot to the other as the crowd continued to count down. ‘When everyone shouts “Happy New Year”, we’ll blow them together, OK?’

      ‘But what about Hailey, Daddy? She needs one too.’

      ‘Oh, no.’ Hailey shook her head, realising belatedly they probably didn’t want an interloper. ‘It’s fine. I’ll leave you guys to bring in the new year with father-son whistleblowing.’

      ‘Thirty-seven, thirty-six, thirty-five…’

      ‘No. Don’t go, Hailey, wait. We have more at the table. I’ll get you one,’ Tom said, leaping down from the chair and racing back inside before Hailey could stop him.

      She watched him go, the plea in his high boyish voice clawing at her gut and freezing the self-preservation streak that had urged her to leave. What was she doing? She wasn’t supposed to be getting involved like this any more—particularly with strangers.

      Still, she didn’t want to go inside. She told herself it was because of all the midnight merriment that was about to erupt. It was easier than thinking it was about him. The man she was now alone with. The stranger with heat in his eyes.

      ‘Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…’

      Hailey glanced at him. He was looking down at her, his grey-eyed gaze compelling. Somewhere inside her head she knew she should get the hell off this balcony and leave this man with his motherless little boy and their story well alone. She didn’t know what it was and she didn’t want to. But she found herself mesmerised by his eyes. She could hear the unsteadiness of her breath.

      ‘Ten, nine, eight…’

      Her pulse pounded through her head. This was crazy, this unwanted, almost electric attraction. 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 СКАЧАТЬ