Page 1 of The Baby Behind Their Marriage Merger

CHAPTER ONE

STANDINGONTHEbalcony that ran the length of the Vane’s ballroom, Addi Fields smoothed her hand over the slinky material of her satin slip-dress, conscious of the cool breeze blowing across her bare back. The dress, a deep navy-blue, drifted over her lanky body and, with its halter neck, looked demure from the front. It was anything but modest from the back, dropping exceptionally low to skim the top of her butt. Underwear had required a lot of thought.

Addi took a glass of champagne from a waiter and thought about the award she’d been handed earlier in the evening. One of the properties within the portfolio she managed for the hotel division of Thorpe Industries had won the award for small lodge of the year and she was comprehensively delighted. As there were rumours that Thorpe Industries was up for sale, she wasn’t sure how long she’d get to enjoy the kudos that came along with the recognition.

Addi looked through the French doors into the busy ballroom. The room was packed with the hospitality sector’s bigwigs: men and women who owned the most spectacular hotels, lodges and leisure operations on the continent. She was only there because Thorpe Industries was in a state of flux—Cole Thorpe had recently been gifted the company by his brother—and the hospitality division wasn’t on his list of priorities. She’d asked for permission to represent Thorpe Industries, realising it was a great chance to network. Someone here might give her a job if she lost hers when Cole Thorpe sold up.

Her new boss was due in the country within the next few weeks, and Lex, her half-sister and best friend, would be driving him around Cape Town in her role as Thorpe Industries’ part-time chauffeur. Maybe he’d let something slip; maybe Lex would overhear his plans, something that would give her an edge.

Addi could only hope.

Besides, she hadn’t been prepared to pass up the opportunity to stay two nights in one of the best hotels in the country and eat five-star meals. It was a pity she didn’t have the time, or money, to visit the hotel’s award-winning spa.

Normally, her days consisted of leaving early to avoid the hellish Cape Town traffic, working ten hours straight and driving home, to be greeted by her energetic, noisy half-sisters. After the younger girls went to bed, she and Lex enjoyed a glass of wine and curled up on either end of their old sofa.

Most evenings they discussed their finances, with Lex telling her the girls needed money for a school trip, or new school shoes, or that a toilet was leaking, or that the gutters needed cleaning. She earned a good salary but, with three half-sisters to support, money never went far. It never had. And she’d never had the luxury of taking her salary and spending it on herself. She’d started working part-time at the age of fourteen, and initially most of her wages had been given to Joelle, her oh-so-irresponsible mother. Later, any money she’d earned had been given to Aunt Kate to help with the costs of housing and feeding Lex and her.

Addi rested the award on the balcony and lifted her face to look at the sky. She wondered when she could leave, at what point her escape wouldn’t raise eyebrows—assuming, of course, that anyone would notice. She was a seriously small minnow in a tank full of sharks. She felt out of place and uncomfortable, but the chance to network and be seen by potential employers was worth any discomfort.

But in her slinky, barely there dress, she felt exposed and just a little naked. She far preferred her men’s style white shirts, pencil skirts that hit her knee and her sensible pumps. Her ultra-short bright blonde hair looked trendy, but she kept it short because it saved time in the morning and, being naturally blonde, only required a touch-up every four or five months. She didn’t have the time or money to spend on her appearance.

While she knew she should work the room, Addi simply didn’t have the energy. She’d had a long day, culminating in attending a talk by Jude Fisher, owner and CEO of Fisher International. In his personal capacity, he owned several off-the-grid hotels and lodges. He and his grandfather before him—Bartholomew Fisher—were legends in the industry, owning some of the oldest and finest establishments in Africa. His hotel in the Seychelles was rated one of the best in the world, and their safari operation adjacent to the Etosha Game Reserve in Namibia had a waiting list of four years.Four years.

Addi had sat in the back of the room, her notepad on her lap, and listened to him expound on how hotels could become greener and more eco-friendly. Like her, he had a passion for sustainability, and his talk that afternoon had been well attended. She hadn’t written anything down for the first ten minutes or hadn’t taken anything in... She’d simply stared at him, drinking him in.

She wasn’t normally so easily distracted but, thanks to Fisher’s charisma, masculinity and the way he’d taken command of the room, she’d completely missed his opening greeting and introduction. Unlike the majority of the speakers at the conference, he’d elected to forgo a designer suit and had been dressed in navy chinos, a soft leather belt and an open-collared button-down white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to show muscled forearms.

Under the casual clothes was a body designed to make angels weep. He was tall, six-foot-three or so, and broad with it, his shoulders wide. Addi had been able to see the outline of a bold tattoo on his right pec through the cotton shirt and another tattoo on his left bicep. His hands and forearms showed the raised veins of someone who took his fitness seriously.

He also had a ridiculously sexy face topped with curly hair, styled off his face, keeping the sides and back short. Black stubble dotted his cheeks and jaw, hiding what she thought was a sensual mouth. His nose was long and a little off-centre, as if he’d broken it once and hadn’t bothered to have it reset.

But it was his eyes that had caught and held her attention. They were a deep, dark green, the colour of ancient forests, framed by spiky lashes. His voice was deep and rich, hot chocolate on a cold winter’s day. He’d worn leather bracelets and a trendy watch on his wrist, and he’d been utterly at ease in front of his audience.

When Addi had pulled her attention off his body and face and started paying attention to his words, she’d quickly realised he knew his stuff. She’d expected him to know the sector inside out, as the CEO of one of the most famous leisure groups in the world, but she hadn’t expected him to do a deep-dive into the intricacies of sustainability and eco-friendly options for the leisure industry. Neither had she expected him to be so passionate about the impact their industry had on the environment. He’d spoken with assurance and knowledge, occasionally interjecting his speech with flashes of humour. He’d had all of the women and a good portion of the men eating out of his hand by the end of the ninety-minute presentation.

Thank goodness it had been recorded because Addi knew she hadn’t taken in as much as she should’ve... Or anything much at all. He’d had some brilliant low-cost and effective ideas, but she couldn’t remember one of them.

‘It’s a lovely night.’

She turned and watched as he lifted his shoulder off the wall and stepped out of the shadows. Her heart banged against her chest and she tightened her grip on her glass, the moisture in her mouth disappearing.

Talk of the devil and there he was...

Good grief, he smelled fantastic. She didn’t recognise his cologne, but it made her think of a fresh maritime breeze or swimming in a blue-green, cliff-lined bay—fresh and fantastic.

Stop staring at him and think, Fields. You are in the company of one of the most influential men in the industry and, since there’s a chance you’ll be out of a job soon, this is an opportunity to make a good impression, to network.

But talking shop was the last thing on her mind. And it didn’t look like one of the country’s—the continent’s!—most eligible bachelors was interested in networking either.

In fact, he was looking at her with interest in his eyes.

Alotof interest...

Ugh. What was happening here? She was cool and prickly, tall and lanky, and she wasn’t the type to attract the interest of David Gandy lookalikes at social events. In fairness, she didn’t go to balls or parties, clubs or bars, so she had no idea whether she was anyone’s type any more. That was what had happened when at the age of twenty-six, and after a lifetime of disappointments, she’d undergone a monumental life shift. Not only had she been handed two half-sisters to co-raise and financially support, but her fiancé’s promises to love her through good times and bad, to stick by her side through thick and thin, had evaporated as quickly as water on a hot stove.

‘I’m Jude Fisher.’

Yes, she knew who he was.

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