Whitehall Baby: A Surprise Pregnancy, Fake Relationship Romantic Comedy Perfect for Chick Lit Fans Read online

  Whitehall Baby

  Laura Barnard

  Copyright © 2021 by Laura Barnard

  All rights reserved.

  First Edition

  The author has asserted their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events other than those clearly in the public domain, are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales in entirely coincidental.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

  This book is dedicated to all of the wonderful women who shared their pregnancy stories with me.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue – Three Years Later

  Also by Laura Barnard

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Saturday 25th April

  Charlotte

  I got talked into attending this poncy evening. Eloise didn’t want to come to her work function alone. That and she sold me a lie that I could persuade some influential people to let me design an outfit for them. Not that I’d ever have the guts to put myself out there like that. I really don’t know why she bothered to bring me, she’s ignored me most of the evening, busy talking to very important people—some best friend.

  Luckily the free wine has been flowing and I’ve come to love our table. The funniest thing is that most of these people work for our British government as civil servants. Just goes to show, give someone enough wine and all their inhibitions disappear. I started a few silly games to break the ice and now my ribs hurt from laughing.

  I throw my head back on a fresh laugh at something Ben, the guy next to me says. At least I hope it’s a joke. Otherwise he’s sexist. When I try to regain some composure, bringing my head down to a normal level, I catch sight of a pair of dark brown eyes watching me from the distance.

  It’s a total cliche to say our eyes meet across the room, but they really do, his intense stare freezing me in place. I stare back for a second, mesmerised by the extremely tall and broad man. He’s gorgeous. A thick black mane of hair swept back off his face and a square angular jaw, he looks like he could bench press me with those strong arms. Yum.

  My cheeks redden at my sudden dirty thoughts and I turn away in haste. How embarrassing. He doesn’t want me gawking at him. I’ve clearly had far too much wine if I’m considering walking up to him and nibbling his chin.

  Arthur

  ‘Who’s that?’ I ask Gregory, spotting the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in a hell of a long time.

  I definitely haven’t seen her around Whitehall. I’d remember her shoulder length dark tousled waves, her bronzed almost luminous skin and those lips. Damn, she has the most perfect cupids bow.

  The truth is that I don’t see many gorgeous women in my line of work. As Cabinet Secretary, I basically work twenty-four seven. I can’t remember the last time I went on a date, let alone slept with someone. Pathetic but true. But that’s what happens when you’re ambitious and want this country to run as smoothly as possible.

  ‘Don’t know,’ Gregory responds. ‘I think she came with Eloise Edwards.’

  Her carefree laughter is drawing me in, melodious and almost song like. Everyone around the table is laughing with her, looking on with adoration, as if she’s the most entertaining person they’ve ever met.

  The thing attracting me to her the most is her goofiness. Here she is at The Civil Service Awards, and she’s as breezy as if she were in a cafe chatting with friends. That kind of confidence is rare to find especially when it isn’t coming from arrogant MPs.

  She throws her head back again in amusement. When she looks back up our gazes’ lock. She stares back at me, her dark eyes widening—although I’m not close enough to see her true eye colour. Her mouth gapes open and she gives me a quick once over, blushing, and then looks away.

  My dick twitches just from one look. I have to meet this woman. I don’t care how but I need to get her away from her mesmerised and enraptured audience of fans.

  I walk up to her, shoulders straight, deciding to do it before I lose my nerve.

  ‘Excuse me. May I have a word in private please?’

  Charlotte

  Why on earth does he want to talk to me? He looks so stern, no hint of a smile. Have I done something wrong? Are you not supposed to laugh at these kinds of events?

  I gulp, my mouth suddenly dry. Without hesitating, I stand and follow him to the corner of the room. God I hope I’m not going to be berated publicly. Eloise would never allow me to go anywhere with her again.

  I look up at him, way, way up; he must be six foot four, his presence powerful.

  ‘What’s up?’ I ask, twiddling nervously with my necklace.

  ‘Oh, nothing.’ He smiles, exposing perfect teeth. ‘I just wanted to get you away from all of those people.’

  Huh? I blush crimson.

  ‘Am I causing a disturbance?’ I bite my lip.

  He scoffs a laugh. ‘No, I just wanted to meet you.’

  ‘Oh.’ Jesus, why would a total sex god like him want to meet little old me?

  ‘Well, here I am,’ I say waving jazz hands.

  God, I hate myself sometimes. Why can’t I be cool? Sure, I mean, I know I look good tonight in my homemade black backless gown with delicate chains sewn in at the neck, but still. He’s in a different league.

  ‘I’m Charlotte Bellswain.’

  He smirks, as if he finds me amusing, and reaches out his hand to shake mine.

  ‘A pleasure to meet you, Charlotte Bellswain. I’m Arthur Ellison.’

  Arthur Ellison. What a strong name. It suits him. He’s enormous, even bigger up close. He must have his suits specially made to fit across those huge shoulders and bulging biceps.

  I nod, tucking a bit of hair behind my ear. ‘Nice to meet you too.’

  ‘Who are you here with?’ he asks looking around.

  ‘Oh, I just tagged along with my friend Eloise.’

  ‘Eloise Edwards?’ He nods with recognition.

  ‘Do you know her?’

  ‘Yeah.’ His lips curve in a secret smirk.

  What the hell does that mean? Has he slept with her or something? I must ask her. Well, if I ever see her again. She’s been stuck in boring political conversation since we arrived.

  ‘How well do you know her, exactly?’ I can�
��t help but ask.

  Is it wrong to feel so irrationally jealous of my best friend possibly hooking up with this guy? Yes, it is, Charlotte. Surely she’d have mentioned sleeping with this sex god of a man. I’m sure he’s a destroyer of vaginas.

  ‘We work together,’ he answers with a small smile.

  He leaves an awkward silence between us. I hate nothing more than awkward silences.

  ‘So…?’ I rock on my heels.

  Why pull me away and then leave awkward silences? Maybe he thought I was a bit of an alright from across the room, and now he’s met me up close he’s realised what a dork I am.

  ‘Where do you work?’ he asks, his eyes skimming lazily over my body.

  I put my arm across my chest protectively, feeling exposed in my dress. Okay, so maybe he thinks I’m still good for a quick hook up.

  ‘Oh, nothing like this. I work in fashion.’

  ‘Fashion?’ he answers with a bark of a laugh, his eyes lit up in amusement. ‘Yes, that’s definitely nothing like this.’

  My back is up immediately. I despise being laughed at. He might as well have said I work a bimbo job. The idiot doesn’t realise fashion designers created that very suit he’s wearing. What a dickhead. I’m so over him.

  He looks above my shoulder, as if someone has just called him and nods.

  ‘Sorry, I have to go back to work, but it was a pleasure meeting you.’

  Ah, good way to get out of it. I’m relieved. I don’t have to live this humiliation anymore.

  ‘You too,’ I say, nodding with a polite smile, glad to be away from him.

  By the end of the evening, the soles of my feet are on fire. I’ll have blisters for days, but damn if these shoes aren’t sexy as fuck. The one great thing about coming tonight was getting to dress up. You can’t really dress up properly anymore. This was a glitzy event.

  The infamous Alice Elizabeth Du Pont even asked me where I’d got my dress from. She’s a well-known socialite married to one of the MPs. I was so proud to say that I’d designed and made it myself. She asked for my card, but I had to bullshit on the spot and say I’d run out. Yeah, right, as if I do that for a living. I gave her my number instead. After all the bumbling I did in that conversation, I’m sure to never hear from her again.

  I say goodbye to the last of my table, promising to see them again at another event. I slip my shoes off, sighing in relief when my feet hit the cool floor. I look over at Eloise, just finishing off a conversation with a balding man. We’re amongst the last few stragglers. Always the last to leave the party. You can take the girls out of Watford…

  She shakes his hand with such intensity her strawberry blonde locks swish around her face, and then walks over to me. God I envy her sometimes. Not only is she gorgeous, all baby blue eyes and killer cheek bones, but she’s got such an amazing mind. Sometimes I have no idea what she’s talking about but nod along so she doesn’t think I’m stupid.

  ‘So sorry I ended up abandoning you.’ She grimaces apologetically. ‘And I know you wanted to leave early.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ I say with a sigh. ‘Believe it or not I had fun with our table.’

  She grins devilishly. ‘God, you want to see them in the local pub after work. Shit faced and horny.’

  Eww. Most of them were in their fifties and sixties.

  I bark a laugh as I collect my bag and we start to leave, weaving around the exhausted waiters collecting used glasses.

  The double doors suddenly burst open and in storms Arthur, his eyes darting around. He must be searching for someone. Shame all the boring important people have left already. Then his eyes find mine again. I shiver, the same feeling as earlier catching me off guard. He has a way of looking at you and making you feel ridiculously alive. Even by accident.

  He comes to stand in front of me, a big grin on his face. ‘You’re still here. I thought I’d have missed you.’

  He was looking for me? Huh? That makes no sense.

  ‘Nope, always the last to leave a party,’ I say with an awkward smile.

  He nods at Eloise. ‘Can I please borrow your friend for a quick private word?’

  Eloise frowns, looks to me and then him with raised eyebrows full of questions.

  Dude, I have no idea what he’s thinking. Is he actually mistaking me for someone else?

  ‘Go for it,’ she says, pushing me towards him.

  I turn to glare at her. Why is she always so pushy?

  I nearly die of shock when he takes my hand and pulls me after him urgently. I look back to Eloise with raised eyebrows as I’m tugged along after him. She shrugs and grins.

  My hand feels like a child’s in his giant warm one. I don’t hate it.

  He leads me out the doors, down a corridor and then into a big office, shutting the door behind us.

  He turns, his eyes alight with mischief, pinning me against the wall with only his dark intense stare.

  ‘W…What’s up?’ I ask, my teeth almost chattering from nervous anticipation. What on earth is happening here? Guys like this don’t show interest in me. Not that I’ve been out much in the last year.

  He appears momentarily shy, his eyes finding the floor and then back to me.

  ‘I wondered if I could take your number?’ He hands over his iPhone and I stare down at it in confusion.

  ‘My number?’ I repeat like a drunk parrot. Maybe I shouldn’t have had those last few glasses of wine. I can’t seem to think clearly.

  He grins back with a nod. Jesus, he must think I’m ridiculously stupid.

  ‘Oh, okay.’

  I quickly enter it into his phone, my fingers shaking so hard I’m sure I’ve missed a digit, and then hand it back to him. I just want to get the hell out of here. The guy makes me feel weirdly on edge. I don’t have time for feeling like this. My life is busy enough.

  ‘Great.’ His stare drops to my lips.

  I subconsciously bite my bottom lip. This guy is so unpredictable. I have no idea what’s happening here. Maybe I’ve actually dozed off at the table after all that wine and this is just a weird dream.

  He slowly stalks towards me, invading my personal space, his dark eyes predatory, until my back hits the wall with a thud. He towers over me, all strength and power. My chest heaves erratically, my breasts rising up in my dress. Is he going to kiss me?

  Maybe I got knocked out at dinner? Laughed so hard I hit my head on a chair or something. I could be in a coma in a hospital bed right now.

  Before I have a second to wonder he clasps his huge hands around my face and then plunges his mouth against mine. My lips set alight and move with his as my heart races in my chest.

  His hands wrap into my hair, pulling harshly from the roots. I squeal from the pain, but it just makes him growl, the rumble shuddering through his chest which my hands seem to have found. A hard as steel chest, deliciously warm.

  I allow his tongue to sweep into my mouth, teasing me, kissing me with thorough determination. We kiss each other like we’ve been doing it for years, a strange sort of comfortableness mixed with a raw sexual undercurrent. I can honestly say I’ve never been kissed like this.

  He pulls away from me slowly and I gawk back at him, my breaths coming out in uncontrollable spurts. He grins, as if shocked with himself. Then he pulls himself together, straightens his jacket and opens the door. He grabs my hand and leads me back out to Eloise.

  ‘Lovely to meet you, Charlotte.’ He nods again at Eloise. ‘Barry will organise a car for you.’

  I stare back at him, still completely dazed. Did that really just happen? Or was it a fantasy in my head?

  He gives me one last cheeky smile, a smile that makes him look about ten years younger, before he walks off.

  ‘Well, what the hell happened?’ Eloise asks as soon as he’s out of ear shot.

  ‘I have no bloody idea.’ I touch my swollen lips, wondering if she can tell.

  ‘You do realise who that is, right?’

  ‘Err, he said his name is Arthur somethin
g?’

  ‘Arthur Ellison.’ She nods with raised eyebrows, like I should know him. ‘He’s a big deal around here. The Cabinet Secretary. Nothing happens around here without him knowing about it.’

  I shrug. Power means nothing to me, especially when it comes to politics. I’m best to just chalk it up to a wild night with far too much free wine.

  Monday 27th April

  Charlotte

  By Monday I’ve almost forgotten my random encounter with Arthur Ellison. Well, okay I might have had some bloody bizarre dreams about him. I don’t know why. I mean, sure the guy is sexy as hell but he’s also clearly a weirdo. Far too intense. Not my type. Nope, not at all.

  I have far more important things going on in my life. Like trying to persuade my boss to look at my designs. I said I work in fashion, because I do, but I’m only a PA. I joined the company eight years ago with my fashion degree hoping that I’d quickly climb from the mailroom to being an actual designer.

  Well, unfortunately, I’ve only ever been promoted to PA of the CEO. Despite me going for every internal interview, I’ve always been refused. I’ve been told the problem is that I’m too good at my job and that they don’t want to lose me. Well sorry for having great organisational skills.

  I should really give myself a kick up the arse and leave, but I still get a buzz even just being in the fashion environment. Besides, what can I put on my CV? I’ve only got admin experience.

  Eloise has bullied me into meeting her for lunch at the little bakery near her work. She’s always saying I need to push for a lunch break. It’s so easy to get swept away in all of the fashion drama and before you know it its 3 p.m.