The Baby of Their Dreams (Contemporary Medical Romance) by Carol Marinelli

thought this time.
    Still, she wanted to be sure so she went with him to his hotel room and, completely at ease, he dropped his clothes and headed for the shower.
    She didn’t join him.
    He washed off the sand and was glad that she hadn’t come in. He needed to think.
    Was he going to ask again that she stay awhile longer?
    And if she couldn’t, was he going to ask to see her again?
    ‘What time is your flight?’ he called from the shower.
    ‘Seven,’ she answered, and then she did something most uncharacteristic for her. She wasn’t a nosy person yet she was about this.
    She went into his bag and pulled out his wallet and opened it, and she didn’t need to dig for the ring to find her answer. She pulled out a photo instead.
    Cat knew her fashion and, yep, this was pretty recent.
    Dominic made a lovely groom.
    He also made a very dark lover because she jumped when she heard his voice.
    ‘I wish you hadn’t done that, Cat.’
    He stood with a towel around his waist, watching as she tucked the photo back in. In his mind he was conflicted.
    Tell her.
    No.
    Because then the bubble burst and everything they had found this weekend dispersed.
    Yes, he could explain.
    He simply wasn’t ready to.
    If he was going to tell her, then it would be in his own time.
    And their time had run out.
    He didn’t like a snoop.
    ‘Do you know what, Dominic?’ She looked up at him. The delicious scent of him, fresh from the shower, was reaching her now and she practically held her breath as she gave a grim smile. ‘I wish I hadn’t done that either.’
    She tossed the wallet on the bed and walked past him.
    And he held open the door and let her out.

CHAPTER FIVE
    C AT ARRIVED BACK at Gatwick Airport and, of course, because she didn’t need it now, her suitcase was amongst the first to come out.
    Instead of driving home, though, she found herself on a search of the shops and thankfully found Gemma’s dress.
    They met in the canteen on Monday morning and Cat got back her photo while Gemma received the second version of the white dress.
    ‘Thank you so much for this.’ Gemma beamed as she peered into the bag. ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I know I probably shouldn’t wear white for the christening...’
    ‘It’s not a wedding,’ Cat said. ‘You don’t have to worry about offending the bride.’
    She looked at the dress as Gemma pulled out a corner and she felt her throat go tight. Hers, she knew, should have been thrown straight into the garbage but instead she’d thrown it into the back of her wardrobe.
    No,
she wanted to say to Gemma,
I did not have sexual relations with that married man.
    Oh, help.
    She most certainly had.
    ‘So how was it?’ Gemma asked.
    ‘It was great,’ Cat said. ‘Very informative.’
    ‘About what?’
    ‘Well,’ Cat attempted, ‘about things.’
    ‘And how was your talk?’
    ‘It went really well,’ she said, but all she could really remember of it was the moment Dominic had walked into the room and how he had stood with his arms folded at the back.
    ‘And how was the museum?’
    Cat frowned.
    ‘You said you were going to do some sightseeing and go to the museum, maybe get a bit of inspiration for your bedroom.’
    As Cat’s cheeks burned pink, she wondered if her friend was a witch.
    ‘Well, did you?’
    ‘Did I what?’
    ‘Get inspiration for the bedroom?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Oh.’
    ‘And no shopping for stuffed donkeys, I see.’
    ‘I was working, Gemma.’
    ‘Of course you were.’ Gemma smirked.
    She knew, Cat was quite sure.
    Had she examined things more carefully at the time, some flags might have been raised. Perhaps it should have been obvious, Cat thought, that he was married. Yet his reluctance to share personal information hadn’t been an issue at the time; instead, it had felt as if they were chasing the same thing—fun, pleasure, grabbing the moment and running with it.
    It had started to feel different at Collserola, though.
    Cat couldn’t properly explain it