Meant-To-Be Mother

chapter TEN


ONE o’clock Saturday afternoon, Siena sat by Max’s pool in the same seat in which she had sat merely twenty-four hours before.

After sleeping not a wink the night before as she had stayed up finding a way through the fog to see what she really wanted her future to entail, the only thing keeping her awake was nervous tension.

‘So?’ Max said, watching her over the top of a Martini. ‘What will it be, Siena? Do you plan to continue rising to the top in taking the Rome position or are you going to be like the majority of my girls and let real life get in the way of a good thing?’

‘Neither, Max,’ Siena said, her voice sounding a heck of a lot stronger than she felt. She was about to take the biggest gamble of her life and she had no idea if she could pull it off.

But all the sacrifices she had ever made of her time, and her loyalty to the company, and most importantly the reward at the end, would make taking the biggest chance of her life worth it.

‘Max, I have an offer to make you I think you can’t refuse.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘I thought my remuneration package for the Rome gig was fairly unbeatable.’

‘And it was. But it’s not the package that concerns me. I want … I need to be here. Not Rome. I need to stay in Cairns.’

Max watched her over the rim of his glass before he sighed and ran a ringed hand across his temple. ‘Oh, Lord, if you tell me you’ve met a boy I’ll drown myself in my Martini right now.’

‘I wouldn’t want you to do that, Max. But I’m afraid I have met a boy.’

Max rolled his eyes. ‘If only one could hire eunuchs with the talent you girls have. But alas. It seems that, having a mostly female workforce, I will continue to lose my favourite girls to family.’

‘But that’s just my point. You don’t have to lose me, Max. I just think you could use me in a way that suits both of us.’ She pulled a piece of paper out of her handbag with a shaking hand. ‘May I?’

He waved a flamboyant hand her way, allowing her to continue.

It would mean less pay, it would mean more hours, and it would mean that never again would she have to push a ridiculously heavy drinks trolley down an aeroplane aisle while wearing heels at thirty thousand feet.

It meant that she would have to find herself a permanent base in Cairns instead of a tiny serviced apartment in Melbourne that merely served as somewhere to store the hoards of clothes she was partial to collecting on her European stopovers.

But that was fine with her. Because it meant that she could also make James a counter offer to the one he had made the night before, which she hoped would be too good for him to refuse as well.

It was time to stop running. And, as she had sat watching the sun rise from Rick’s back porch that morning, she realised that she already had.

She set out to tell Max what her new job would entail, with all the confidence in the world that he would then blithely fire her on the spot for daring to presume that she knew more about his business than he did.

James sat in his studio, looking out over the large square garden of his suburban home.

It felt too quiet. It was Saturday yet Kane wasn’t home to help him out in his workshop as he usually did. Cate and Dave had called that morning to ask if Kane wanted to come with them and their kids to the Cairns lagoon for the day. And without hesitation his shy, quiet son had actually smiled and said, ‘Can I?’

He stared at his mobile phone, which sat silent and still on his workbench.

Dust fluttered slowly through a ray of sunlight.

Siena ought to have finished with Max ages ago. In the last hour he had see-sawed through moments in which, despite her insistence that she didn’t want to stay for him, he was hopeful she had told her boss to shove the Rome job, and others where he was just as sure she had done as she had always intended and taken the job and run.

Either way, after she had let him leave without saying a word the night before, he was all but certain he was not on the list of those she would be calling with the news.

But, even after the way they had left things, he needed to know.

He loved her. Having lived a night with the thought that he might never see her again, he knew that he loved her more now than ever. His love for her filled him up, brought him pleasure and pain, and he wouldn’t have traded either for the world. And because he loved her he wanted her to be happy. Sure, he would prefer her to be happy with him, but if she had to leave.

He slammed a fist against his workbench. Damn it! If only he’d said things differently the night before. Told her more of his feelings. Kissed her longer. Refused to let her go.

Never before had he felt that something so important was so far out of his control. His whole life had been about control—controlling his feelings, his actions, his wife, his son’s temperament. But this, the most important moment in his life to date, was not his to decide.

Feeling uninspired to work, as if his heavy limbs couldn’t be trusted to construct even the most basic design, he instead opened his blog.

To say goodbye? To post a final entry? It felt like the right time to say enough was enough.

Even though he had learnt a hell of a lot more than he bargained for in taking on Siena Capuletti and her roller coaster ride of a change of scene, he had to be thankful that she had helped him complete that important stage of his life.

From now on he knew he had friends who would happily talk through his concerns. Matt. Mandy. Dave and Cate. His blog had served its purpose but it no longer had a place in his life.

His fingers paused over the keyboard as he searched for a way to say goodbye. But, before he typed a word, he noticed that some time that morning someone had left a comment against his most recent post.

He’d never had a comment before. That was probably one of the main reasons why he had continued with it for so long, because he’d thought nobody had been paying it any attention.

His hand hovered over the mouse, but curiosity won in the end and he clicked on the comment box. And then his throat closed over completely as he read the words on the page.

Saturday, 8:12am

Two days ago I met a boy.

I hadn’t been actively looking to meet one, which is usually when these things happen—in the moment when you are least prepared for them.

For unprepared for him I was.

Until I met this boy I thought I was living the high life. I’ve visited the Eiffel Tower fifty times. Fifty! I’ve taken classes to learn how to weld, how to dropkick a guy twice my size and how to trim a bonsai tree. Why? Because I was independent, self-sufficient and stubbornly determined to remain that way. I could take care of myself. I needed nobody.

But this boy showed me that my independence had come at a price. Independence meant isolation. Isolation had turned to loneliness. And he made me ask myself if I was really happy to drift about the ocean of life alone forever more.

And the answer?

No. I’m not. Because, since I have known this boy, I have discovered that I was never an island. I was merely a lonely soul adrift but now I have found where my home really is.

I only hope that I have not left it too late to tell him how much this has meant to me.

I understand why he might see me as too much hard work, because believe it, I am, and I understand that after last night he might not believe that I was only trying to do what was best for him, and for the son he loves so much, but I’m telling him how I feel all the same.

If he can ever forgive me for being slow on the uptake, if he is willing to take my scratched and dented heart, if he is able to see his way past my stubbornness, then he, this boy, this man, this man that l love more than anything in the world, more than my independence, more even than Rome and all it represents, he can have me.

Because, now that I know that I want to come home, I realise too that it would never be home unless he was there with me.

S

James let loose a nice loud helpful swear word.

Clinging to the mouse for dear life, he took a deep breath and read the whole message again, just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

When he finally believed every word to be true, he swore even louder and grabbed for the phone, his hands shaking as directory enquiries put him through to Rick’s Body Shop.

‘Rick speaking.’

‘Rick, it’s James Dillon. Is Siena there?’

‘No, mate. That crazy-looking driver of hers picked her up to take her to the airport about half an hour ago. She still has to work that flight back to Melbourne. But I thought you—’

James hung up and was out of his chair, into the kitchen, grabbing his car keys and pulling a T-shirt over his bare chest and running down the front path faster than he had ever run before.

Slow Saturday drivers threatened to block his every turn, but somehow gaps in the traffic opened up before him every time he needed them to. Lights turned green upon his insistence. The fates were giving him one last chance to get this right.

As he neared the airport a big baby-blue poster advertising MaxAir caught his attention. And he almost crashed the car as Siena’s beautiful smiling face looked back at him.

He slowed, rubbed his eyes, saw that it was really her. She was dressed as a flight attendant in one of those blue suits and matching Jackie O hats, her glorious curls pulled back off her face into a severe bun, a wide smile on her lovely face, her eyes sparkling for all the world to see. Her stunning ocean-green eyes, her fine cheekbones, her heart-shaped face, her—

The car behind him beeped its horn and he pulled away. The poster could wait. If the fates continued to conspire in his favour the real thing could be at the end of the line.

The real thing.

God, he had so much to tell her and this time he was going to tell her right.

He’d left the night before thinking he’d said all he had gone to her to say. But after reading her love letter to him, for that was what it had been, he knew that he’d been holding back.

Damn it! He could have blown it all.

If she hadn’t have been brave enough, and sensitive enough, to see through the superficial things like roses and throwing pebbles against her window, and tenuous offers to give it a go and see what happened he could have lost her.

He sailed over a speed hump as he drove into the short-term car park, found a spot and landed on the pavement running, thankful that he had remote central locking or he would have left the damn car to its own devices.

Pushing past tourists with baggage trolleys and families slowly wandering into the terminal to pick up loved ones, he rushed along the length of the outdoor car park.

He wanted to be with this woman for the rest of his life. He loved her stubbornness and the fact that she was hard work and that she made Kane laugh and made him smile. He loved the fact that she was sure, and that their courtship had weathered storms a-plenty and come out the other side stronger. And he loved the fact that she loved him right on back. That part he loved most of all.

But he hadn’t told her any of that.

Instead he’d dangled a carrot and hoped for the best. And now, hours after she had written that note, she could have given up on him and taken the Rome gig and left.

Unable to wait for the electronic doors to slide slowly open, he pushed through a side door of the departure gates. Running backwards, he eyed the monitor showcasing all departing flights until he found the MaxAir flight to Melbourne.

And then he was off, ignoring the packed escalator, taking the steps two at a time and travelling down the long hallway as fast as he could without arousing the attention of airport security.

As he closed in on the departure lounge, he took in the scene around him, willing his senses to slice through the hundreds of travellers to pick up only on her familiar dark curls, the classy scent of her perfume, her soft skin and those winning wilful eyes.

Where else did he find her but sitting in a café, a half-drunk cappuccino sitting congealing at her side, as she concentrated wholeheartedly on the dozen salt packets balanced in a precarious pile before her?

He slowed to a walk, taking advantage of a few moments to watch her, just watch her being her.

Her head was cocked to one side, her dark curls tamed into a slick wavy hairdo reminiscent of a forties movie star, sexy as hell in her baby-blue MaxAir uniform, looking nothing like the robot he had accused her of being all those millennia ago, but very beautiful, and very soft, and very real.

Marring the vision of true incandescence, her stormy green eyes seemed heartbreakingly sad and he guessed that lashings of eyeliner had been used to cover up evidence of tears. Tears he had caused? Tears that made his chest feel tight with regret. Tears he hoped to never let happen again.

Siena. The woman he loved. How had it ever come to this? How he had been lucky enough to find love twice in a lifetime, he had no idea. He’d done something right by somebody to deserve such a blessing. Especially because he knew in his heart that this time it would last a lifetime.

‘Siena,’ he said, his voice thick with emotion, no longer able to hold back from going to her.

Siena looked up. And she couldn’t believe her bloodshot eyes.

‘James?’

She’d been sitting there, thinking of nothing but him, wondering if he might find her letter one day, if he ever braved his blog again after her confession that she had read it all, and then there he was. Real. There. Hers.

She rose from her seat, staring into his face—his breathing was ragged, his clothes askew, his eyes bright and vivid and warm and willing.

He stood before her dressed almost the same as he had been that first day, in an old T-shirt, soft jeans clinging to lean hips, heavy scuffed work boots, short ash-brown hair just a little ragged from running his hands across it as he always seemed to do when she was acting a little nuts, which was often enough.

He was absolutely the sexiest, sweetest, most gorgeous man she had ever known. Sexier even than Action James of the photos on top of the piano. She didn’t know that man. But this man she knew. This man she loved.

Without another word, she rushed to him, wrapping her arms about his neck as he enveloped her completely in his inviolable embrace. Her whole body shook as she let go, let go of all her hurt and pain and happiness and love in one great gushing stream of tears.

Only once her racking sobs had subsided did James pull slowly away, sliding his arms from around her so he could run soft fingers down her damp cheeks.

‘What’s with all the tears?’ he asked, a true smile lighting his beautiful eyes.

Siena sniffed and did her best to take a proper breath. But she couldn’t. His very presence had stolen her breath fair away. ‘I can’t … I can’t believe you’re really here.’

‘Ye of little faith,’ he chastised.

‘I hoped. I wished. I sent out as many happy thoughts as I could. But I never really thought it would happen.’

‘Tell me about it,’ he said, now running his hands lovingly over her hair. ‘I’ve spent months thinking those very same thoughts, all but convincing myself I could never possibly hope to feel this way about someone. Now it just pains me to think that if I hadn’t got here in time …’

Siena could feel the pain in his voice as he contemplated her leaving and not coming back.

‘What?’ she said. ‘Are you some sort of quitter?’

He raised an eloquent eyebrow, a hint of a sparkle in his eyes.

‘Would you not have chased me all the way to Melbourne?’ she asked.

He thought about it and then smiled. ‘Actually, I would.’

‘Well, it’s your lucky day. It wouldn’t have come to that. I’ve booked myself on a flight back here tomorrow afternoon as it is.’

‘A working flight?’ he asked, and she knew he still hadn’t realised that she had really gone ahead and chosen him over Rome.

‘As a passenger, of course! Because, now that I will be working here, I was thinking I might try to find myself a cute little apartment somewhere up this way. Something with air-conditioning, for sure.’

‘Don’t tell me you quit,’ he said and the sparkle had turned into the beginnings of a smile and Siena knew she was home.

She saw the wheels and cogs turn in his head as he computed what she was telling him.

‘Nah,’ she said. ‘I made Max an offer he couldn’t refuse. I was going to tell all when I turned up at your place as a surprise tomorrow night but now you’ve saved me the trip … I suggested that if he thinks I’m that fabulous at my job that I should stay here training all his new recruits to be just like me, making sure they know what MaxAir service is all about if they want to fly the grand overseas routes. Telling them the truth of it, preparing them for the joy and the sacrifices both. And he thought it a great idea!’

‘Of course I believe it. He would have been stupid not to think so. Though they couldn’t be just like you if they tried. Not one of them. Unless of course you did build an army of Siena-shaped robots to do the job—’

She glared at him and slapped him on the back. Then, before she knew what he was about to do, he grabbed her tight and twirled her in his arms.

Siena laughed out loud. She felt giddy, loved and wondrous, like someone in one of those romantic ads for telephone companies that made every girl on the planet cry.

He brought her back to the ground, hugging her tight, whispering against her ear. ‘Don’t get an apartment,’ he said, his voice insistent, strong and determined. ‘Don’t?’

‘I meant it when I told you that you should stay. I was just too struck dumb by the image of you in those sexy-as-hell pyjamas to be able to find the words to tell you properly. But since this get-up does nothing at all for me …’

He paused, running his hands over her shoulders and down her back until they were tucked beneath the cropped jacket at her waist, thus utterly negating the words he had just said.

‘Siena,’ he murmured, loud enough for her ears only, ‘sweetheart, stay with me. Live with me. Be with me. Marry me.’

Marry me. Had he really said marry me?

‘Did you really say …?’

He slowly brought a hand to either side of her face, making sure she was looking at him, into those deep grey eyes of his. ‘Siena, you must know how much I love you.’

I do now, she thought, her mind and heart and soul reeling and tripping and giddy. But instead she said, ‘I love you too.’

Then, in one fluid movement, they moved to kiss one another.

And Siena knew that, after all her years of flying the world, she had finally come home.


All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

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Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited,

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HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY! LOVE MILLS

& BOON © Harlequin Books S.A. 2011

Accidentally Pregnant, Conveniently Wed © Sharon Kendrick 2007

Claiming his Pregnant Wife © Kim Lawrence 2007

Meant-To-Be Mother © Ally Blake 2006

ISBN: 978-1-408-93534-7