‘So you’ve named her?’ Max spoke from the door. Georgia looked serene and competent with the baby nestled in her arms, and he stifled the pang of pain he’d thought he’d got over about not having children.
Imagine someone like her to come home to after work. During his engagement Max had eventually realised that at best Tayla would fly to visit him every few weeks and he’d accepted she would continue with her life as charity social queen.
At the time it had seemed enough because he could never offer a maternal woman a family and Tayla made no secret of the fact that she didn’t want children. A realistic Tayla was better than the beauties who had chorused that IVF would do the trick.
Imagine if it had been possible to marry someone like Georgia? They could have even worked together and he’d have a real insight into the care the women were receiving.
Enough. He wouldn’t be searching for another wife. One close shave was enough. Maybe he could run his disastrous day past the board and they’d consider his circumstances against the fact he wasn’t married. He’d sort something out.
He frowned at the strange expression on Georgia’s face and he wondered what new complication had arisen.
For Georgia, after the first quick glance, she didn’t know where to look. Perhaps she’d caught her uncle’s affliction of avoiding eye contact, but this was a bit awkward after hearing Max needed a wife.
She flicked another peek at him and away again. ‘Harry just left.’
‘Yes, I know.’ Max frowned. ‘I saw him but he seemed in a bit of a hurry. I’m not sure he’s speaking to me after I failed so dismally as a son-in-law.’
Georgia winced and looked down as Elsa slept contentedly in her arms. That was definitely her fault. She wished her daughter would wake up and yell. At least she could avoid conversation then. Her brain was spinning from Harry’s bombshell. Max just didn’t seem the type to need a wife.
The guy had everything. Looks, money, fabulous career. A sliver of ice slid down her back. Maybe he wanted to own a trophy wife, like Sol had.
‘How is Tayla?’ It was all she could think of to say.
‘Unengaged. She doesn’t want to marry me any more.’ Max dropped the words into the room like an afterthought. ‘But she’ll be fine. I’ve sent her home with my brother. I think they will do very well together. We don’t normally get on but Paul’s been a godsend this week.’
Georgia frowned and played back his comment in her mind. Unengaged. Needed a wife. ‘Did you say the wedding is off?’
‘Definitely. I couldn’t guarantee to her I would never rush off like that again and she said it wasn’t good enough.’
‘She’s a fool.’ Georgia had thought the words and somehow they slipped quietly into the room for Max to hear.
‘I think so—but there you have it.’ He was irrepressible and she couldn’t help smiling. They both grinned at each other and the camaraderie was back.
Georgia decided she must have misunderstood Uncle Harry. Max didn’t seem too upset for someone who needed to have a wife. She would go with her instincts and her instincts said Max Beresford could be trusted.
‘So why were you marrying Tayla if you didn’t love her?’
He sighed and sat down. She realised he was dressed in theatre garb so he must have changed out of his soiled suit at some time. He pulled his hand over his strong chin as she watched him gather his thoughts.
‘The board of directors for the new job were adamant. They wanted me but no wife, no job. Tayla seemed like a good idea at the time.’
Georgia felt disappointment lodge in her throat. She was a damn poor judge of character. The man was shallow. ‘Not a good reason to tie yourself to one person for the rest of your life.’
‘It was only for a year if it didn’t work out.’ He looked up at her and smiled sympathetically. ‘I gather your foray into married life wasn’t a roaring success either.’
She wasn’t the one who needed the sympathy. ‘I believed in commitment when I took my vows.’
‘And how was your marriage?’ The gentle tone in which he asked the question made her eyes sting with sudden tears.
She did not want to go there. ‘None of your business.’
‘That bad, eh?’ He pressed his lips together as if holding back further comment, and suddenly she could at least admit how bad it had been to herself.
It was her turn to sigh. ‘Worse. How did you know?’
He shrugged his shoulders slightly. ‘From something you said when you were in labour about not missing Elsa’s father.’
The limo ride came back to her in Technicolor and she shuddered. ‘Labour. Could you call that labour? That horrific few minutes when I thought I would lose my baby?’
She shook her head. ‘That was like being hit by a truck.’ She couldn’t begin to imagine the desolation she would be going through now if Elsa hadn’t survived. ‘I haven’t thanked you for being there when I needed someone.’
Max smiled. ‘And I haven’t thanked you for saving me from Tayla. So now we have that out of the way, let’s forget the others. What are you going to do now?’
Georgia tilted her head. ‘My situation is fine. I’m free. I have a healthy baby, a home and a nanny arranged for the future when I go back to work.’
He looked a little taken aback at her well-laid plans. What had he expected?
‘I can see you are organised.’ He stood up. ‘And you must be tired. I’ll go. Congratulations on your beautiful daughter. My best wishes to both of you. Good bye.’ He smiled and left.
She watched him go, watched him walk out after all they had been through, and now she really was alone. Well, what had she expected? He wasn’t even her cousin-in-law now so she probably wouldn’t ever see him again.
Of course, she couldn’t sleep after that.
Elsa woke and gratefully Georgia fed her and stroked her hair and began to feel the peace she’d dreamt of when her child was safely born.
She tried to imagine how she would have felt if Max hadn’t been there and she’d been alone when Elsa had been born. If Elsa hadn’t been fine. It didn’t bear thinking about.
Then the cold ice of fear in the base of her stomach reminded her there were other things to be afraid of. What if Sol came back and tried to take Elsa, as he’d threatened? Could she keep her baby safe? Could Max help her keep her baby safe? It was a dangerous thought.
The next morning Dr Sol Winton stepped out of the lifts on the maternity floor and no one tried to stop him. The quality of his suit and the half-exposed stethoscope poking out of his pocket ensured that nobody questioned he belonged there.
He inclined his head at two nurses and his slow smile brought the colour to both their cheeks. The gilt-ribboned chocolate boxes screamed money and he placed one box on the nurse’s desk and kept one in his hand.
‘I’m looking for my wife. Georgia Winton?’
‘Certainly, Doctor. She’s in room four, down the corridor on the left.’
‘Thank you. Enjoy the chocolates.’
He set off as if sure of his welcome. A tall, well-dressed, charming man, who drew the eyes of women and exuded authority.
When he entered the room only the baby was there wrapped up in a bunny rug in the Perspex cot. A name card tucked into the end read, ‘Elsa, baby of Georgia, five pounds two ounces.’
He reached across and