Falling for Mr. December by Kate Hardy

date.’
    Even though he’d promised himself he wouldn’t date again. Because Sammy Thompson intrigued him. And he wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye to her yet.

CHAPTER FOUR
    â€˜S O HOW WAS the photo shoot?’ Mandy asked.
    She sounded ever so slightly guilty, Nick thought. ‘It was fine,’ he reassured his sister. ‘The photographer was nice. She put me at my ease, and she let me choose the shots to give to the committee.’
    â€˜
She?
But I thought...’ Her voice trailed off.
    â€˜So did I,’ Nick said wryly.
    â€˜Oh, no. It must have been so embarrassing, taking all your clothes off in front of a woman you’d never met before.’
    Nick laughed. ‘She was at pains to tell me before the shoot that she saw me only as a life model, not as a person.’
    â€˜Right.’ Mandy sounded intrigued. ‘So was she young? Old?’
    â€˜It’s immaterial, Mandy. Don’t even think about trying to match-make.’ And no way was he admitting to his elder sister that he was seeing the photographer for lunch on Sunday. It probably wouldn’t come to anything, anyway. By then his common sense would be back in place. He and Sammy would have a nice walk through the city together, talk about art and architecture, have lunch, and then not see each other again.
    Except Nick discovered the next morning that his common sense was very far from being back in place. When he walked into the narrow lanes off Fleet Street to his chambers, he found himself looking at the buildings with a photographer’s eye.
    Sammy would love this area, he thought.
    And she’d really love the hidden gem in the middle.
    He couldn’t resist texting her .
    I have a bright idea for Sunday.
    Details? she texted back.
    Just bring your camera. Which Tube line are you on?
    There was a short pause before she replied: Northern.
    Meet you at Embankment Tube station at 9.30? he suggested.
    Her reply was a smiley face and a slightly sassy note.
    Hope good coffee is involved.
    He grinned and typed back: It will be.
    * * *
    On Sunday, Sammy felt ridiculously nervous. This was her first date in months—and it was with someone whose working life and whole lifestyle were so very different from her own.
    She’d liked Nick Kennedy instinctively. She was attracted to him. And it was definitely mutual.
    But how would he react if she told him she’d had osteosarcoma as a teen?
    She didn’t think he’d be one of the men who ran for the hills—his nephew had the same condition, so he’d understand instead of panicking at the c-word. But would he be overprotective, the way her family was, making a big deal out of every twinge she felt and worrying that it might be the first sign of something more sinister?
    And, if he was close to his nephews, did that mean he liked kids? That maybe he’d want some of his own, some day? That could be a problem, because—thanks to the demands of her treatment—she might not be able to have kids in the future. There were possibilities, but no actual definites, because she’d had to have her eggs frozen before her first chemotherapy—and IVF didn’t come with a cast-iron guarantee that it would work.
    Part of her wanted to make up an excuse and call the whole thing off. Not because she was a coward, but because over the years her boyfriends’ reactions to the complications had worn her down. It had left her feeling less of a woman and more of a freak.
    Though part of her was intrigued by Nick. He was a man with a buttoned-down, highly respectable job, and yet he’d actually posed naked for a charity calendar. That took guts; and it also hinted at an unconventional streak.
    So maybe this could even be the start of something good. She’d have to take that leap of faith and try to trust that it wouldn’t go the same way as her last few relationships had.
    Maybe Nick Kennedy was different.
    But, until she