Having the Boss's Babies. Barbara Hannay

      CHAPTER ONE

      SHE was sitting alone at the bar with her back to him, so he wasn’t sure why she caught his attention. Perhaps it was because she seemed so different from the rest of the under-thirty-fives who packed the Hippo Bar for Friday-night cocktails. No laughter or mad flirting for her.

      She was staring at her empty cocktail glass, stirring what was left of the ice cubes with a tiny black straw, oblivious to the happy commotion going on all around her.

      Her clothes were different, too. No tight hipster jeans or bare midriff, no outrageous jewellery or spangly glitter.

      Her shiny dark hair was caught up in a simple knot and her dress, something dark and feminine with one shoulder bare, offered a clear view of the graceful line of her neck and shoulders. Her skirt wasn’t especially short but it managed to reveal rather shapely legs.

      He wanted to see her face; if it matched the rest of her it was, at the very least, elegant.

      And then, miraculously, she turned and his lungs compressed as if he’d free-dived to the bottom of the Coral Sea. She was quite, quite lovely.

      Her eyes were clear grey, her nose classic and her mouth lush. She’d dusted her eyelids with smoky hues and had drawn a fine black line to skim her lower lashes. The make-up gave her a dramatic, dusky allure.

      A disturbing fantasy flashed into living Technicolor in his head. He saw her in a different setting, somewhere remote, far away from this city, and she was leaning towards him, her dark eyelashes spiky and wet…her cheeks flushed, her pink lips softly parted…and her eyes were begging him to make love to her.

      He cursed softly at his foolishness and spun on his heel, eager to move on, to find a quieter, less crowded bar. But he made the fatal mistake of glancing back over his shoulder.

      And this time, he was touched more by her air of solitude than her beauty. Her gaze was fixed on a spot in the distance, and yet she was staring at it without interest, as if she was seeing something else, some inner turmoil.

      He recognised that look. He knew the loneliness hovering like a shadowing hawk behind her lovely eyes. There were many times he’d felt that.

      Tonight was one of them.

      Each year, this anniversary became more and more difficult and he’d chosen to fly north to Cairns a few days earlier than his business commitments required, simply to avoid spending this particular night in Sydney.

      He’d planned to spend the night alone—content to be a sightseer, wandering this sultry, tropical city at whim, hoping to blank out bad memories by renewing his acquaintance with the sights and sounds and smells of the far north. A solitary stranger in town.

      But now he’d seen the girl at the bar.

      And his plans had to change.

      Alice was trying to be brave.

      It wasn’t easy to sit alone in a bar on her thirtieth birthday. Alone, for heaven’s sake! She had a right to feel down.