Nobody's Baby But Mine: One single moment changes all their lives

By Gloria Silk

From USA Today Bestselling Author, Gloria Silk this is a gripping, romantic and sensuous novel of marriage, fidelity, fertility and the power of love.

“Gripping, romantic, sensuous and astute.” 

"New women's fiction that touches all

• Language: English
• Publisher: Creative Hummingbird Results
• Release date: Mar 11, 2018
• ISBN: 9780995197251

Book preview

Rachel meets old flame, Brandon (2275w)

Standing in baby room, Rachel craves for a baby. Remembers lovemaking with J. Shows her boss’s char. Meets old flame, flattered, wants to know more about him .

Relax. How Rachel hated that word. If one more person told her to take it easy, or get a new hobby to take your mind off babies, she would scream and never stop. Especially if those words came from a well-intentioned friend or the fertility clinic’s specialists. They may as well have said to a writhing fish, just breathe normally and you’ll get used to being out of water.

It took all her professional will power, biting her lower lip, to control the threatening tears as she stood in the middle of a cosy little baby’s room, all decked out in warm yellows, greens and earthy browns. The family living in the fully renovated elegant Victorian home were expecting their third child and were moving to a larger house.

Rachel envisioned the serene mother with a newborn at her engorged breast, as she rocked gently in her feeding chair. The sun shining on her and her saintly Mona Lisa smile.

Children, children everywhere. But not in Rachel’s womb. Her friends, relatives, colleagues and the whole world seemed to get pregnant without effort. Snap out of it, she kept saying to herself, but it didn’t help. Today’s low feelings, apart from it being Monday, had everything to do with where she was in her cycle. The dreaded end.

Gareth, Rachel cleared her throat, I don’t understand why you insisted I be here for this showing. And who is this prospective investor?

You’ll find out soon enough. All you need to know is that he’s already bought three properties in the past three months from the competing agents and we’ll do whatever it takes for him to switch to us. He couldn’t even mention the name of the more successful real estate agency Gareth blamed all his troubles on. Looking at his watch, her pompous boss glanced around the room and left as if she was invisible.

She was fed up of her pedantic boss’s secretive antics and competitiveness with her. They both knew she’d stepped down into this job instead of running her own agency in the heart of London, to reduce stress, and to keep her sanity.

Inhaling deep not-so-calming yoga breaths she reminded herself she could leave her job any time she pleased, thanks to Jamie’s secure and well-paid VP position at Acorn Pharmaceuticals.

But then what would she do with her time? She wanted to leave with a heavy rounded belly filled with her and Jamie’s growing child.

She wasn’t as fortunate as her baby sister Abby who was a talented chef as well as artist – even if she used neither of those talents, and instead ran a healthy vegetarian restaurant in Islington. Although the twenty-six-year-old was unlucky in love, Rachel envied her lack of ambition where settling down was concerned, repelled at any hint of domesticity, never mind having babies. Rachel, on the other hand, was the natural-born nurturer taking for granted since childhood that she’d shine in her role as wife and serial mother – unlike their mother. Abby didn’t remember much of their parents. Being nine years older TIME, Rachel had no such luck.

After three and a half years of trying for a baby, Rachel lived on a great diet and hope.

It’s only a matter of time before you get your wish, darling. Jamie’s echoing voice reminded her again. Her one and only love. They had each other and their strong marriage. That was what was going right, and always would, she knew.

Jamie made her so happy. A warm glow spread within her ribcage at the memories of last night, with only one shadow marring a perfect Sunday evening.

Early last night when Rachel told Jamie over dinner the shocking news of her good friend’s sudden separation, Jamie was as surprised as she’d been earlier. Tina and Andrew were the last couple they’d have thought would lose in the marriage roulette. The inseparable love birds were almost embarrassingly demonstrative with each other at get-togethers. Their three young boys were another strong unbreakable bond, Rachel had taken for granted.

I didn’t even know they were having any problems. Jamie had frowned.

I didn’t either. The pain in her temples throbbed at her discomfort knowing she’d been too self-absorbed to have noticed any signs or cracks. Great friend, Rachel, way to go.

He’s been having an affair with a friend of theirs. Tina didn’t suspect a thing, and I thought after how close they were…Why would a man jeopardize his whole family life like that? She was sad at the turn of events and suddenly nervous for all marriages. Apart from her own, of course.

I’m sorry to hear this. I know how close you two are. Every marriage is different, though, and maybe he wasn’t getting what he needed from her in other ways. Despite…. He threw her a look, arching an eye brow, their adventurous nature.

She knew he was referring to the weekend years ago, when the two couples had stayed at a charming old country manor converted into a classy hotel. Jamie and Rachel had woken up to strange sounds from next door, Tina and Andrew’s room. Minutes later, between fits of muffled laughter into his pillow, Jamie had explained the whooshing noise was the whining of a whip. After that getaway Jamie had privately named it the thwacking good weekend.

Rachel shook her head. But what about the boys?

What can I tell you? He’s a fool. I’m disappointed for Tina too. He glanced at her momentarily, before continuing cutting his roast chicken. Don’t worry, Raych. I know how much you care for her and those boys. Just be there for her when she needs you, that’s all anyone can do.

Communication is the most important thing in any marriage, right? Something in her voice must have betrayed her sudden insecurities. Jamie looked at her, his chicken-laden fork stopped half way to his mouth. He searched her face across the cosy pine kitchen table. He put down his cutlery and reached for her hand nearest to him. There was that sparkle in his gunmetal-gray eyes. A slow smile was playing at the corner his mouth. She studied his loving face.

We love each other and it would take a lot more than a roll in the hay to come between us. Right? He quirked a brow at her again, waiting for her to smile at his expression of ‘no one else knows how invincible our love is’.

She inhaled and let out a slow calming breath, her heart skittering against her ribs at Jamie’s expression, like it had the first time they had met at a mutual friend’s wedding nine years ago. He always knew how to brighten her moods, make her smile, to reassure her everything would be all right.

I know you’d never dare stray, because we both know I’d just have to kill you. She threw him a warning look, holding back the beginnings of a first smile in hours.

I’d never want to be with another woman but you, and you know it. And it can work both ways. I’d strangle any guy who even looks at you in that way. Jamie’s eyes darkened, his lips thinning into a resolute line. Like that old boyfriend of yours we bumped into at that French restaurant. What was his name?

Brandon. Her pulse fastened for a few seconds and then settled again.

Ah, so you still remember the name of that pretty-boy, no good gigolo. The twinkling glint in his eyes was warm and inviting. You’ll have to make up for that, wench.

I love you so much, Jamie. How did I get so lucky?

You’re going in the right direction. Jamie smiled.

She covered his hand with her other one, as he raised it to his lips. His touch was always grounding and arousing. He leaned towards her, his half eaten meal forgotten. Am I reading those sexy brown eyes right? There’s more than one choice for desert to make up for your mentioning another man’s name? He stared at her lips like they were luscious strawberries he loved best.

Devil’s food cake and chocolate dipped strawberries. She grinned what she hoped was her most teasing smile as he pushed his chair back and stood close to her, looking down into her eyes.

Before long they were lying in each other’s arms against the soft cushions on the large Persian rug with only the soft light glowing from the crackling flames in the oversized fireplace.

They were lounging, finishing feeding each other the last of the chocolate-dipped strawberries, talking softly about anything which brought a smile or a laugh. Pushing away any inner strain that may have been lurking within either of them. There was plenty of time for reality to come knocking at their door, as Jamie liked to say. Sundays were their full day and night for each other and no one else. Even after nearly seven years of marriage.

The light banter between them changed the moment Jamie gently took away her nearly empty wine glass and leaned slightly over her.

I promise I’ll make you forget everything and everyone tonight. Jamie murmured in his low voice, nuzzling his lips against her ear and travelling down her sensitive erogenous zones he knew so well. Almost purring, she pulled her head back welcoming his explorations. Her arms encompassing his broad shoulders she closed her eyes and counted her lucky stars while she still had some semblance of sense. Everything would work out, even the filling of the baby room with a live gorgeous, healthy baby. It took all her will power to stop thinking about that and enjoy their intimacy for what it was. A mutual sharing of their love and devotion they had vowed to always keep true and fresh.

I’ll always love you, Raych. He groaned, inhaling into her warm throat. Her own pulse jumped as his gentle but grazing lips roved to her mouth. I adore you. Don’t ever doubt it.

I won’t. Shivers of anticipation made her voice shake.

While kissing her, Jamie slowly pulled away her soft white robe down her shoulder. Immediately he covered her tingling skin with more warm, sure kisses, melting her insides.

Lightly, her shaking fingertips traced a butterfly-light line from his neck down to his shoulders. His hard biceps stiffened at her touch. She loved his lean, strong physique. Running impatient fingers through his thick silky hair she directed his head lower to kiss him. She was home, warm and stimulated, marvelling how neither tired of making love with each other despite her pressure.

Almost of their own volition her hands roved down the straining muscles of his back, to his tight buttocks, hips and finally to the pulsating member she craved to feel inside her.

She was ready as he pulled her fully on top of himself.

Even now, on Monday morning at work, Rachel enjoyed the waves of goose bumps, remembering how they had lain in each other’s arms after making sweet, unhurried love, savouring every blissful moment. But her not-so-secret yearnings floated about even now, as she silently hoped last night could be the one.

The ringing of an unfamiliar sounding door bell interrupted Rachel reverie. She sighed and took another deep breath, this time holding on to the soothing calm brought on by last night’s memories.

Then she left the baby’s room without looking back.

In the landing Gareth turned back from the entrance of the second bedroom and stood taller, rubbing his hands together. Don’t just stand there. Do your job; let him in, woman.

He followed her down the stairs and she opened the door. Her eyes widened, her breath caught.

Brandon Ross here!

The languid thoughts of a few moments ago dissipated and vague heat spread tingling sensations over the back of her suddenly stiff neck, trickling down her spine. She found herself staring at the tall frame of her ex lover, suddenly feeling like a twenty-four year old once more.

Brandon Ross stood grinning, tanned, tall and handsome as ever. Her heart somersaulting, she smiled back.

Won’t you let Mr. Ross in, Rachel? Gareth’s voice had lost its earlier acidity.

As she stood aside, she blinked, wondering how she could have forgotten how devastatingly handsome Brandon was. How he wore his jet-black hair curling into the collar of his denim shirt under the open sheepskin coat. Those narrow hips and the thick muscles under the faded skin-tight jeans accentuated with every effortless move of his body. His six-foot-two frame didn’t need the help of the tan leather cowboy boots for height.

But his eyes – she’d forever remember their vibrant greenness - were like just-cut clear emeralds with a hint of the sea. Without saying a word, those eyes had always made her feel like she was the most beautiful woman, and no one else existed.

A tiny shock zapped through her arm as she let Brandon take her hand in his large one. Behind her Gareth gushed about something or other. I was surprised that you wanted Rachel to deal with you on this property as she’s no longer….I’m the broker …. Gareth’s voice quietened and shut off completely. Or had she just tuned him out?

Brandon’s curious smiling eyes held hers. How nice to see you again, Rachel. His deep baritone voice was still as delicious as bittersweet chocolate. Feeling like a tongue-tied groupie she just smiled.

And still as beautiful as ever. Brandon added.

For the first time in what seemed like years Rachel had the urge to laugh or at least giggle, but was keenly aware of her boss’s presence and even resentment. Her bubbling laughter would not be professional. But she felt far from professional right now.

Abby / Rick (2065w)

Abby wants to get out of toxic relationship. Establishes her and Rick’s char. Ab Decides to get help. TIME: Mon - Early March .

There was no way out. Abby was paralyzed within the sinister darkness of her recurring nightmare, but she feared the reality of waking up next to the man in her bed even more.

Imprisoned within the silent tomb of her bedroom walls, her heart thudded so hard she could hear the whooshing of her blood inside her throbbing head. Her eyes slowly fluttered open in the same old room bathed in pink shadows of the early morning sky through the silky aubergine coloured curtains. Stale air mingled with old smoke cooled Abby’s clammy skin as she lay immobile, hardly breathing. Claustrophobia grew stronger as she turned her head slightly to the blond young man beside her. He snored softly through his open mouth. His male scent which she’d found intoxicating only weeks ago, even last night, now made her recoil.

After six months she expected to be used to waking up next to someone. At night she clung to a warm human form, but in the light of day all Abby craved was solitude, even desolate loneliness.

As if even in his sleep Rick could read her thoughts or body language, she shifted her thinking to the nice things he did for her.

What nice things? Apart from their sexual bond there was nothing left. Fighting back tears, she wasn’t sure if they were brought on by the growing frequency of her debilitating dreams or the lack of genuine, loving emotions of any depth in her life.

Gingerly extricating herself from within Rick’s arms she sat up in her bed, leaning her right arm against the crypt-like cold wall. Her long, thick black hair brushed against her bare shoulder blades down to her hips. Lethargic and exhausted from another sleepless night, even the chore of breathing hurt.

Rick groaned, sliding his sinewy, hair roughened arm on top of her sheet-covered nakedness. Her every tense muscle froze and she stopped breathing.

He may want to make love again. Her heart pounded but not from excitement. She wanted to escape from her own bed, her own flat, her own world. Of all the men in London and could meet at her restaurant, why had she allowed Rick to wheedle his way into her life?

Good morning, sexy. He growled lazily in his early morning gruff voice. His grey eyes were more alarmingly sexy than she remembered from the previous night. She sucked in a mouthful much needed oxygen. How easily she forgot the smallest things, even his lies. Come here, darling. He purred, his arms entwining themselves around her like a cobra.

N-no, Rick, I have to get in early. She busied herself with the sheets over her tall figure. Her exotic beauty was her curse, she knew it and hated herself even more. Ever since she was fifteen her beauty with her lanky, yet delicate five-foot-ten model bone structure, pouty lips, deep brown eyes, and large pert breasts were all an affliction she’d have rather been born without.

Just as she thought she’d escaped, Rick’s wiry fingers gripped her arm.

You used to want to have sex all the time. He pulled her closer against his naked chest. You know, there are plenty of other women... He breathed seductively into her ear, nuzzling his warm lips against her cheek. His smoky morning breath made her long to shove him away from herself.

She cringed and sharply tugged at the sheet around her, hiding behind her hair. I wish you wouldn’t say those things. She winced, frustrated in her prison. Let go of my arm, you’re hurting me.

Suddenly he let her go, and she hit her head against the wall beside her with a thud. Despite the shooting pain, she leapt out of bed before he changed his mind. Breathing inwardly she dared not look into his hard eyes, knowing instinctively they lost their aroused softness and become icy, dangerous.

If you’re still punishing me about the other night, I did explain….

She wished he’d stop watching her. Hurriedly she put on her underwear. It’s not about that. Abby said in half truth.

So what’s the matter now?

Nothing.

Oh, don’t give me that. I hate it when you women say ‘nothing’ and expect us to get into your complicated little minds.

And I hate it when you put me in the same category as all the other women. Abby said through gritted teeth as she strode into the bathroom. What are you staring at, you coward! She wanted to scream at her reflection. Her pallid skin not so flawless anymore. You’re the one who let Rick move in. As Rick followed her, she hid her burning face behind the veil of her hair as she squeezed toothpaste on her toothbrush.

Look, I know I didn’t get in till after one, but I had the extra delivery, and then the damned bike... With shaking fingers she dropped her toothbrush in the sink. She turned away from the site and stench of her once fluffy white towels, now strewn with Rick’s soiled underwear on the bathroom floor, and fled into her closet, with Rick in tow.

Don’t repeat everything. Abby pulled on the first black skirt she got her hands on from the messy pile of clothes she’d been meaning to sort out in her once neat closet. Rick’s dirty clothes added to the mustiness and the cloistering clutter. She struggled with the zip catching at her silky undies in her haste.

Isn’t that skirt a bit too short? She stopped tugging and stared at Rick. Realization dawned on his face.

I know what’s really bugging you. But you know I didn’t mean to lash out at you when you accused me of... Rick stopped talking as she flashed him another warning look.

She couldn’t think about that night right now. The girl at the other end of the phone. Abby confronting Rick, his hand shooting out towards her face…

Her sudden thirst made her feel light headed. Lowering her burning face at the memory Abby bit her lower lip hard at her weakness last night. Her determination to break it all off with Rick had lasted till the middle of last night. It had disappeared as the sound of the menacing wind outside her dark window had joined the roaring thunder and lightning. She’d screamed, seeking comfort the only way she knew; in the arms of a man, even one who had hit her. Who had betrayed her, like the other men before him.

Wasn’t she sending him conflicting messages?

I really have to go. She mumbled. It was nearly nine o’clock and although she didn’t need to be at the restaurant till eleven, she much preferred to be alone in her suddenly disorganized working space than feel trapped and afraid in her own apartment.

If you want me out of here, just say so and I’ll be gone. Rick’s voice rose. Abby stared at him, as he got up off the bed, proud as a stallion in his bare glory. But unlike a few months ago, now the only thing his Adonis beauty churned up within her was bile.

Here was her opportunity, but she knew he didn’t mean it.

So that’s what you’ve been thinking. Looming even closer Rick looked menacing despite his nakedness. His muscles shone like polished iron, his fists by his sides looked like crushing weapons.

Abby cringed, forcing herself not to cower or skitter away, gritting her teeth at her impotence.

Well, I’m not going anywhere, you hear me? No, he had nowhere to go. Until a few weeks ago she had never understood how a twenty-five-year-old man could be unloved by his own mother and sister. Compared to the disdain between Rick and his family, Abby felt positively pampered by her own demanding, neurotic mother. The nightmares always brought on memories of her parents, or were the thoughts responsible for her nightmares? She sighed, massaging her still throbbing temples.

Staring up into Rick’s eyes, trying not to stutter she said quietly, May I remind you, She hung her head unable to keep contact with Rick’s narrowed glare, and twirled a thick ribbon of hair around her unsteady forefinger, that this is my place.

And you’ll also remind me I don’t even pay rent. He mimicked what he called her posh snooty accent. Well, when I was earning money I paid for the food, didn’t I? His breath came out ragged. She considered reminding him that it had lasted for less than one month and she’d been paying all the bills for the past five months. She’d taken care of herself financially since she’d turned nineteen, when Grandma Nancy had passed away and her older sister Rachel had got married. She was an independent and self-sufficient woman. She couldn’t go on like this.

That was why she knew she needed Karl Mueller’s help.

He was her only hope.

As Abby escaped the confining bedroom almost tiptoeing, again Rick followed her, apparently having reconsidered his tactics in her silent moment. I can’t seem to do anything right. You know I had to pay back that bastard Jason. I had no other choice, and I promised you I won’t bet any more. As soon as I get more money coming in we’ll be back to normal. As if knowing his convincing tone wasn’t working on her, he tried to hug her. I love you. I really do.

She pushed herself away gently, not to ignite further anger. We’ll talk about it later. If you’re here, she wanted to add, hoping against hope he may well clear out on his own.

But she knew the likelihood of that happening. Zero.

Averting her eyes to the alarm clock, she left. What did he do in her flat all day long? Watched porn and called his ex-girl-friend, who may not be an ex, for all Abby knew.

Breathing in deeply the cool, fresh English spring air she leaned against the cold rough wall of the century-old nine-storey building with burnt-orange bricks and huge smoked glass windows. The only remnants of last night’s downpour were the drying dark patches sleeking the asphalt road. She stared up at the tall green buds of the trees, reaching up to the heavens. The church steeple to her right always inspired a sense of awe and sometimes drove home the inconsequentiality of her life. Was this what her father and uncle had dreamed for her? No, she wouldn’t go near that thought.

Her palms clammy, her erratic heartbeat began to slow down somewhat within her chest. The air smelled clean and full of promise after the oppressive tension at her flat, which once was her sanctuary, but no more. She caught the whiff of the familiar unpleasant reminder of Rick. Avoiding the acrid smell created by the young couple blowing smoke, lurking a few feet away from her she turned away from them. She had an even worse and more dangerous vice than theirs.

Maybe she just ought to kill herself and be done with it all.

Her sister’s frightened, disappointed face came to mind and Abby’s fear turned into full blown guilt. Selfish Coward.

Her high heeled boots beat out a low rhythm as she strode to Islington Station, weaving her way through the remaining commuters and the meandering tourists so early in the season. London in March was beautiful and welcoming especially when she looked around her through new-comers’ perspective.

Standing among the crowds on the train, avoiding men’s stares, she kept her gaze on her blackberry. Ever since she was little she attracted attention. And she hated it. These people didn’t know her or anything about her.

Why did she feel so ugly and surreal? As if she really didn’t exist in her own life?

As she neared her only remaining sanctuary, she looked forward to becoming engrossed in the running of her restaurant, Café Vert. The daily drama of the temperamental French chef, Jean-Phillip, locking horns with the stuffy garlic-hating Englishman Jeremy, souse chef was a welcome change from the fraught hours at home.

How long could she go on like this, with the increasingly sleepless nights evading arguments and Rick’s touch – until the nightmares woke her, driving her to him? For the past few weeks, the more distant she became, the harder Rick pushed her to marry him. Was he crazy? Surely he knew she was searching for ways to escape the relationship.

Her mind was made up. This morning was the catalyst to her summoning up the courage to set up the appointment with Karl Mueller. She’d find a few spare moments this morning. She didn’t know how, but with his help she’d get the backbone to get Rick out of her life and stop going for the same type of men.

She had to take her life back. She’d break the chains that bound her to her fears and never, ever make the same mistakes again.

Yeah! Her inner voice sniggered. Till the next time!

L/ J’s office (1500w)

Ambitious L convinces J to consider her for promotion, makes him feel like a hero (Here or later? Shows their attraction to each other. Shows her ambition .

TIME: Mon AM

Lauren was aware of how easily she attracted everyone’s attention on the vast open plan floor, as she made her way confidently through the sixth floor. She knocked at the door at the far corner to her prospective boss’s office. James Conran sat at his desk as she entered his domain.

Dressed in one of her favourite fitted, dark gray skirt suits, with a jade green silk blouse, she loved the sensuous feeling of the smooth, sheer underwear under her snug pencil skirt. At nearly thirty she knew her long legs and pert, full breasts were some of her best assets. Her sharp mind and high IQ were sometimes underestimated.

Hello, James, thank you seeing me at such short notice, I know you have a lot on the go. She offered her cool hand over his desk.

He nodded, shaking her hand.

Silently perusing each other, Lauren’s female intuition told her the sexual pull between them was not imagined. Yet, while she ignored other men’s hooded stares across conference tables at department meetings, James Conran always treated her with utmost respect, listening to her opinions with full consideration. She’d often wondered what he was like under the cool façade.

Here was her chance to find out.

Especially if she could attain the position of Director for the Wellsley Valley site, the new Scottish acquisition with its Pharmaceutical Development Department she couldn’t wait to get her hands on.

She had to get this promotion. Her plans for her future depended on it.

Over the past two years as Project Manager reporting to Mac Jones, who in turn reported to James, Lauren knew that not only was James a fair boss, but he was a democratic leader. The fact that he had Hollywood good looks didn’t hurt either, with his dark granite-gray thick hair short and immaculately in place. His blue-black beautifully tailored suit accentuated his solid yet lithe physique.

I wondered if you’ve had a chance to consider my application. I don’t mean to go over anyone’s head, but— She started.

That would be unprofessional.

Lauren ignored the unmistakable derision in those reserved steely-grey eyes. Always treating her – and others – with integrity, her respect for him grew with their every meeting. She knew she’d earned his, too.

She didn’t want to ruin that.

Even though she never mixed business with pleasure, contrary to company gossip, Lauren was choosy about her men, in and out of bed. That was easy, because the type she liked – tall, blonde, muscular, stinging-hot sexy and a bit on the wild side – weren’t to be found in suits behind desks in the pharmaceutical industry.

Besides, she suspected James would consider her on her merits once she made her case, without her having to use other measures.

James stiffened in his seat as the tall woman sat down in the chair opposite him, crossing her long legs with smooth, unpretentious grace. Why was he too aware of her every curve?

Though tempted to get up from his seat to gain some token power, he stayed put. Instead of finishing the all-important last sentence of his email, he saved and abandoned it. Yet he was still distracted. How could she carry herself so lightly on such high heels, those hips swaying like a sensuous flamenco dancer’s? Her deceptively officious suit did little to hide her subtle yet potent sensuality. With her long, auburn-red curls, he easily imagined her in a Catherine Zita