A Very Special Holiday Gift

CHAPTER TWO

CHLOE COULDN’T QUITE believe it was actually happening. Here she was in the executive lounge of Brisbane International Airport, enjoying coffee and croissants with her boss, with a boarding pass for a flight to London in her handbag, a grey winter jacket and rosy pink scarf folded on the seat beside her, and a neatly packed carry-on bag at her feet.

She still wasn’t quite sure how Zac had convinced her to do this, but from the moment he’d learned she had an up-to-date passport the pressure had begun. He’d argued that the company was winding down for the Christmas break anyway and, thanks to her superb organisational skills, the office Christmas party could run brilliantly without her.

He’d brushed aside her concerns that she knew very little about babies. After all, the child’s father might yet be found.

To Chloe’s amazement, even her very valid concerns about her parents had been duly considered by her boss and then swiftly and satisfactorily smoothed away.

She’d been stunned when he’d asked last night if he could visit her parents. She’d tried to protest. ‘Sorry, no. Mum and Dad will be in bed already.’

‘Why don’t you ring them to check?’ he’d said confidently.

To Chloe’s surprise, her mother and father were still up, watching Carols in the Cathedral on TV, and, even more surprisingly, they said they’d be happy for her boss to call in, if he didn’t mind finding them in their dressing gowns and slippers.

Zac said he didn’t mind in the least.

‘Chloe, there’s sherry in the pantry and we can break open that box of shortbread you bought last week,’ her mother suggested, sounding almost excited.

Zac had poured on the charm, of course, and, when it came to being charming, her boss was a genius. Even so, when he offered to put her parents up in the Riverslea Hotel, all expenses paid, with all their meals, most especially Christmas lunch, included, Chloe was sure they would refuse. It would be all too flash! They didn’t like flashiness.

But, before her parents could object, Zac had thrown in a car with a driver to take them to church on Christmas Day, or to the doctor, or anywhere else they needed to go, and he’d offered to hire a nurse to check daily that they were keeping well and taking their correct medication.

Chloe’s mother had looked a bit doubtful about this, until she’d received an elbow in the ribs from her dad.

‘It would be like a holiday, love,’ he’d said.

Still, Chloe had expected her parents to have second thoughts and say no. But then Zac also told them with commendable sincerity how extremely important, no, invaluable, their daughter was to him and how much he needed her for this very important mission in the UK.

Somehow he’d struck just the right note, which was clever. If he’d praised Chloe to the skies, her parents would have been suspicious and he would have blown it.

Instead, by the time he’d finished, they were practically squirming with delight, like puppies getting their tummies rubbed just the way they liked it.

And now...this morning, her parents, with their out of date, simple clothes and humble, shabby luggage, including her dad’s walking frame, had looked a trifle out of place in the luxurious hotel suite with thick white carpet, floor-length cream linen curtains, golden taps in the bathroom, not to mention panoramic views up and down the Brisbane River...but the grins on their faces had said it all.

‘Chloe, you go and look after your nice Mr Corrigan,’ they’d said, practically pushing her out of the door. ‘Don’t you worry about us.’

Chloe had closed her gaping mouth.

Remembering her parents’ delight, she could almost imagine them exploring their hotel room like excited children, checking the little bottles of shampoo and bubble bath, flushing the loo and bouncing on the king-sized mattress. Zac Corrigan had achieved a minor miracle.

And Chloe was going to London!

Right. Deep breath. She only hoped she wasn’t making a very serious mistake. After all, she knew why her boss had been so keen to avoid asking any of his female ‘friends’ to accompany him on this very personal journey. He liked to keep his relationships casual and this sojourn to London would be anything but casual.

Chloe also knew why her boss regarded her as a suitable choice. She was capable, conscientious and uncomplicated, and he trusted her to remain that way. Which suited her just fine. It did. Really.

Yes, there was a danger that those annoying longings she sometimes felt for Zac would surface, but she’d had plenty of practice at keeping them in check and she was sure she could survive his close proximity for a few short days.

So perhaps it was OK now to admit to herself that she was a tiny bit excited, or at least she would be if she wasn’t concerned for Zac and the sad ordeal that still awaited him when they landed.

* * *

Eventually, they boarded and took off, making the long flight across Australia, and now they were, according to the map on the screen, flying high above the Indian Ocean...

The cabin lights were dimmed, Zac and Chloe had eaten an exquisite meal and had drunk some truly delicious wine, and their business class seats had been turned into beds.

Beside Chloe, her boss appeared to be asleep already, stretched out in jeans and a black T-shirt, with his shoes off and his belt removed and his feet encased in black and purple diamond-patterned socks. He had also plugged in earphones and was listening to music and he had slipped on the navy silk eyeshade the airline provided.

He was used to flying and she supposed he would sleep now, possibly for hours. He’d probably had very little rest during the previous night and she was sure he needed to sleep. Actually, Chloe’s night had been sleepless as well, so she knew it would be sensible to try to follow his example. Otherwise, she’d end up in London, useless with jet lag, with a boss who was ready and raring to go.

Unfortunately, however, Chloe was too wired to sleep. The past twenty-four hours had been such a whirlwind and the thought of London was simply too exciting. She’d acquired her passport in happier times, when she’d thought she knew exactly where her life was heading...

But she’d never used it. So she’d never been on an international flight before, had never flown business class, and had certainly never been to England. It was hard to believe she would soon be seeing the famous Tower Bridge and Big Ben and Buckingham Palace.

Needing to calm down, she fished in her bag for the magazines she’d bought from the airport newsagent while Zac was busy with a phone call. The mags were all about mothers and babies and parenting and Chloe hoped to find an article or two about caring for newborns. Just in case...

Luckily, there were plenty of stories and columns covering all kinds of newborn issues. Chloe soon discovered what to do if a baby had colic, jaundice, an umbilical hernia...and masses of information about bath time, skin care, crying, feeding, burping...

She read the information conscientiously, trying to take it all in, wondering if she would actually be called on to apply any of this in practice and hoping she’d remember the important details. Her real-life experience of babies was limited to admiring her friends’ offspring, and she’d found them cute to cuddle or play with and then she’d been happy enough to hand them back to their mothers.

After her life turned upside down several years ago, she’d given up her own dreams of motherhood, so she’d never given much thought to the finer details of green nappies or colic or projectile vomiting.

Even now, she blocked those images. Not every baby had those problems, surely?

Instead, Chloe allowed herself to picture a tiny, warm, sweet-smelling bundle in her arms, a dear little baby girl, with soft pink skin and perhaps dark hair like Zac’s. A darling rosebud mouth.

‘Aren’t you sleepy?’ murmured a deep voice beside her.

Startled, she turned to see that Zac had lifted his eyeshade and removed an earplug, and was watching her with marked curiosity.

Chloe’s insides began to buzz—an annoying reaction to having him so close. ‘I...er...thought it might help if I read for a bit first,’ she said.

Zac leaned closer, frowning. ‘What on earth are you reading?’

The magazine in her lap was unfortunately open at a full-page picture of a tiny baby attached to an enormous breast.

Chloe felt her cheeks heat. ‘I...um...just thought...in case...you know, the baby...it would be handy to have a few clues.’

‘It would indeed.’ Zac spoke smoothly enough, but his eyes once again held the bleak shadows that had arrived with the terrible news about his sister. ‘Good thinking, Ms Meadows.’

Chloe swallowed. It was more than a little unnerving to find herself lying so close to her boss’s disconcerting, sad grey eyes. She could see his individual thick, dark eyelashes and the grainy texture of the skin on his jaw. She hadn’t been this close to a man since—

‘I’m sure I’ll be sleepy soon,’ she said quickly, before her thoughts could be hijacked by haunting memories.

‘Tell me something you’ve learned,’ Zac said, keeping his voice low so he didn’t disturb the other passengers, many of whom were sleeping. ‘I’m intrigued.’

‘Something about babies?’ Chloe whispered back.

He cast another glance at the photo in her lap. ‘Or breasts, if you prefer.’ He gave her a teasing smile.

Despite the rising heat in her cheeks, Chloe sent him a drop-dead look and closed the magazine.

‘Babies then,’ Zac amended, his lips still twitching in a smile. ‘Tell me what you’ve learned about babies.’

In truth, she’d learned an awful lot that she hadn’t really wanted to know—about a newly delivered mother’s hormonal fluctuations, the stitches she might have in awkward places, her leaking or sore and swollen breasts.

‘OK,’ she said as she remembered a snippet of practical information that was safe to share with him. ‘Did you know that you should wash the baby’s bodysuits and nightgowns in hypoallergenic dye- and scent-free detergent?’

‘Fascinating.’ Zac yawned, clearly already bored.

Good, he might leave her in peace.

Chloe waited for him to replace his eye mask. Instead, he pointed to one of the magazines in her lap. ‘Do you mind?’

This time, she didn’t try to hide her surprise. ‘You want to read one of these? A mother and baby magazine?’

Her corporate executive playboy boss could not be serious. The Zac Corrigan she knew wouldn’t be caught dead with such an incriminating piece of reading material in his hands, not even in the relative anonymity of an international flight.

‘Yes, please,’ he said, holding out his hand and smiling blandly. ‘I’d like to be educated.’

Lips compressed to stop herself from making a smart retort, Chloe handed him a magazine that focused on a baby’s first six months. She supposed he was probably teasing her, but he might be trying to distract himself from thinking too much about his sister.

It was even possible that he genuinely wanted to learn. After all, if a father for Liv’s baby couldn’t be traced, Zac might soon find himself in complete charge of a newborn.

For a while they both read in peaceful silence, the small glow of their reading lights making golden cones in the otherwise darkened cabin. But Chloe couldn’t relax. For one thing, she was too curious about how Zac might be reacting to the contents of his magazine.

But it wasn’t long before he leaned close, speaking softly. ‘Did you know that babies can stare at you while they sleep?’

‘Excuse me?’

He smiled. ‘It says here that they can sleep with their eyes half open. It looks pretty spooky, apparently.’

Although his smile, up close, was dangerous for Chloe’s heart health, she couldn’t help smiling back at him. ‘Well, the article I’m reading warns that babies sometimes don’t sleep at all.’

‘No.’ Zac feigned complete shock. ‘That can’t be right.’

‘Well, I guess they sleep eventually, but some stay awake for much longer than they’re supposed to.’

‘A bit like us,’ he said, looking around the business class cabin at all the other passengers, who appeared to be contentedly sleeping.

Chloe sighed. ‘I guess we really should turn our lights out and try to sleep.’

‘Yes, we should.’ He closed the magazine and handed it back to her. ‘Thanks for that. Most enlightening.’

By the time she’d stowed the magazines away, Zac had turned off his reading light, pulled down his eyeshade and folded his arms over his wide chest. ‘Goodnight, Ms Meadows.’

He usually only addressed her this way when he was in a playful mood, which wasn’t very often, mostly when he’d pulled off some extraordinarily tricky business coup. Chloe wondered if the playboy was coming out in him now, simply because he was lying beside a young woman who was close enough to touch and kiss.

That thought had no sooner arrived than her body reacted, growing warm and tingly and tight.

Oh, for heaven’s sake.

Where had such a ridiculous reaction sprung from? Chloe gave herself a mental slap and glared at Zac.

‘Goodnight, sir,’ she said icily.

‘And try to sleep.’ He spoke without lifting his shade and he sounded now like a weary parent. ‘We’ve a long way to go.’

Chloe didn’t answer and she was relieved that she would not have to speak to her boss again until morning. She pulled on her own eye mask and tried to settle comfortably, hoping that the steady vibration of the plane and the hum of its engines would soothe her.

Her hopes were not realised.

She couldn’t relax. She was too upset by her mental slip about kissing and touching her boss. Too busy delivering a good, stern lecture to herself. After all, she knew very well that Zac had asked her to accompany him on this trip precisely because he needed a female companion to whom he was not sexually attracted.

Her momentary lapse had no doubt been brought on by her over-tiredness. She knew nothing like that would happen. Zac had spent a good section of almost every working day in the past three years in her company without once trying to flirt.

Besides, she didn’t want it to happen. She was far too sensible to ever fall for her boss’s superficial good looks and charming wiles. Apart from the fact that she’d had her heart broken once and never wanted to experience that pain again, there was no way on this earth that she would allow her name to end up on the spreadsheet of his Foolish Females.

Unfortunately, her attempt to sleep only lasted about ten or fifteen minutes before she had to wriggle and fidget and try for a more comfortable position. Beside her, she heard a weary sigh. ‘Sorry,’ she whispered.

Zac lifted the eye mask again and pinched the bridge of his nose.

‘Sorry,’ Chloe said again. ‘I disturbed you, didn’t I?’

He shook his head. ‘Not really.’ He yawned. ‘I’m dog-tired, but I have a feeling I’m not going to sleep tonight.’

‘Do you normally sleep on long haul flights?’

‘Eventually.’

She wondered if he couldn’t stop thinking about his sister. Was he simply too upset to sleep? She wished she could help.

‘I don’t have any brothers or sisters,’ she said tentatively.

Zac frowned.

‘Sorry,’ she said quickly, wincing at her third apology in as many minutes. ‘I just thought you might want to talk, but I shouldn’t have—’

‘No, no, it’s OK.’ He sighed again, and lay staring into space, apparently thinking...

Chloe waited, not sure what else to say.

‘Liv was eight years younger than me,’ he said quietly. ‘When our parents died, she was only ten, so I felt more like her father at times.’ His mouth was a grim downward curve. ‘She was my responsibility.’

Chloe stared at him now as she tried to take this in. Was the poor man blaming himself for his sister’s accident? Did he feel completely responsible? ‘But you must have been very young, too,’ she said.

‘I was eighteen. An adult.’

Only just, by the skin of your teeth. ‘How awful for you to lose both your parents so young.’

‘Yeah,’ he agreed with another sigh.

Chloe didn’t like to ask, but her imagination was running wild. ‘How did it happen, Zac? Was there an accident?’

He shrugged. ‘We’ll never know for sure. My parents were sailing somewhere in Indonesia when their boat just disappeared. My father was a geologist, you see, and my mother was a marine biologist and they were mad keen on science and exploration, always on the lookout for a new discovery. I suppose you’d call them nutty professors. Eccentrics.’

So they’d just disappeared...? Poor Zac. How terrible to have his parents simply vanish, to never know if they’d been taken by pirates, or capsized in a tropical storm, or drowned when their boat struck a coral reef...

‘They—they couldn’t be still alive, living on some jungle-clad island, could they?’

Zac’s mouth tilted in a wryly crooked smile. ‘I’ve played with that fantasy, too. But it’s been seventeen years...’

Chloe couldn’t imagine how awful it must have been for him—a mere eighteen years old and forced to carry on living without answers, just with terrible possibilities.

‘Right from the start I was worried about Liv,’ he said next. ‘I couldn’t bear to see her disappear into a foster home, so I applied to be her guardian. I dropped out of uni and got myself a job, so we could live together and I could look after her.’

‘Goodness,’ Chloe said softly, hoping she didn’t sound as surprised as she felt.

Zac’s lips curled unhappily. ‘It was possibly the stupidest decision I ever made.’

‘Don’t say that. I think it was incredibly brave of you.’

She was stunned to realise that Zac had sacrificed his own goals to try to keep what was left of his family intact. All she’d ever known about his private life was the revolving door of lookalike leggy blonde girlfriends. He’d never seemed to really care about any of them beyond their sex appeal and she’d assumed the ‘care factor’ gene was missing from his DNA.

But it was clear to her now that he’d cared very deeply about Liv.

‘I couldn’t keep her on track,’ Zac said, so softly Chloe almost missed it. ‘Liv never really looked on me as a parent. She wouldn’t accept me in a fathering role, so I had very little influence, I’m afraid. I think she was mad at our parents for disappearing the way they did and she saw me as an inadequate substitute. Before she was out of her teens she was into drinking and trying drugs. And then she was like a nomad, never wanting to settle. She didn’t want to study and she would never stay in one job for long enough to get any real skills. She was like a butterfly, always searching for a brighter flower.’

‘Might she have inherited that urge from your parents?’

‘Quite possibly, I guess.’

He stared unhappily up at the cabin’s ceiling and Chloe wished she could offer him wise words of consolation.

She did her best. ‘Honestly, I don’t think you should blame yourself for this accident, Zac.’

But he simply shook his head and closed his eyes.

* * *

It was ages before Chloe drifted off to sleep and when she woke a soft grey light filled the cabin and flight attendants were bringing around hot towels to freshen their hands and faces, as well as glasses of orange juice.

‘Morning, sleepyhead.’

Zac’s seat was already back in the upright position and he looked as if he’d been to the bathroom and washed and shaved.

Chloe yawned and hoped her hair wasn’t too messy. In a minute she would follow his example and freshen up. ‘What time is it?’

‘Seven forty-five. That’s Greenwich Mean Time, of course. If we were still at home it would be five forty-five in the evening.’

So...her parents had almost completed their first day in the hotel. Chloe hoped they were still enjoying themselves.

If she’d been in Brisbane, she would be putting the final touches to the office’s decorations and making last minute checks about the drinks and ice.

‘I hope you’re not worrying about your parents.’

‘No, I’m not.’ She knew they were in good hands and she’d left the hotel desk, the hired nurse and the chauffeur with all the phone numbers and information they could possibly need. ‘I was thinking about the office Christmas party tonight, actually.’

‘Really, Chloe?’ Zac was frowning at her now, although his eyes glinted with puzzled amusement.

‘I was looking forward to the party,’ she admitted, no longer caring if this revealed her inadequate social life.

‘You were looking forward to watching half the office staff get plastered and then staying behind to clean up their mess?’

She opened her mouth to protest.

Zac’s smile was gently teasing. ‘You’re going to see London at Christmas. I promise you that’s a thousand times better than the office do.’

‘I suppose it would be. When should we get our first glimpse of England?’