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The Baby Bonding
Caroline Anderson
Surgeon Sam Gregory is the last person midwife Molly Hammond expects to see at Audley hospital. She'd once carried a child for him and his wife–it had led to a special, and unspoken, bond between Molly and Sam.Now a single father, Sam feels his son, Jack, should know his "tummy mummy." Sam and Molly's bond grows ever stronger and their sizzling attraction begins to emerge. But Molly fears a relationship–if it all went wrong, she might lose them both. And how can she tell Sam that, despite being a mother, she's never made love to a man in her life?
Dear Reader,
We’re constantly striving to bring you the best romance fiction by the most exciting authors…and in Harlequin Romance® we’re especially keen to feature fresh, sparkling, warmly emotional novels! Modern love stories to suit your every mood—poignant, deeply moving stories; lively, upbeat romances with sparks flying; or sophisticated, edgy novels with an international flavor.
All our authors are special, and we hope you continue to enjoy each month’s new selection of Harlequin Romance novels. This month we’re delighted to feature The Baby Bonding, a highly emotional novel with all the edge and issues that surrogate motherhood raises. Caroline Anderson has a tear-jerking writing style that also brings a feel-good factor to anyone’s day.
We hope you enjoy this book by Caroline Anderson—and look out for future intensely emotional stories in Harlequin Romance. If you’d like to share your thoughts and comments with us, do please write to:
The Harlequin Romance Editors
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Happy reading!
The Editors
Caroline Anderson has the mind of a butterfly. She’s been a nurse, a secretary, a teacher, has run her own soft-furnishing business and now she’s settled on writing. She says, “I was looking for that elusive something. I finally realized it was variety, and now I have it in abundance. Every book brings new horizons and new friends, and in between books I have learned to be a juggler. My teacher husband, John, and I have two beautiful and talented daughters, Sarah and Hannah, umpteen pets and several acres of Suffolk that nature tries to reclaim every time we turn our backs!” Caroline also writes for the Harlequin Medical Romance® series.
Books by Caroline Anderson:
HARLEQUIN ROMANCE®
3756—WITH THIS BABY…
3728—ASSIGNMENT: SINGLE MAN* (#litres_trial_promo)
3732—ASSIGNMENT: SINGLE FATHER* (#litres_trial_promo)
3697—THE BABY QUESTION
3674—A SPECIAL KIND OF WOMAN** (#litres_trial_promo)
The Baby Bonding
Caroline Anderson
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE (#u9fa28eb9-5ea3-5fc2-ae54-3b2abc693195)
CHAPTER TWO (#u9a8d0394-9da5-5094-a5ef-ca8898d96ec7)
CHAPTER THREE (#uda1b46df-8a53-53a6-999f-aaa765d7455c)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
IT COULDN’T be him.
Not now, surely, when she’d got over him at last, stopped thinking about him every minute of the day, finally stopped caring if he was alive or dead.
No. She hadn’t stopped caring. She’d never stop caring about that, but she’d stopped obsessing about it.
More or less.
And now here he was in front of her, as large as life and handsome as the devil, his face creased with laughter as always, and the sound of his deep chuckle sent shivers running through her. His long, rangy body was propped up against a pillar by the desk, and his pale blue theatre scrubs hung on his frame.
He’d lost weight, she thought with shock. He’d never been heavy, but now he was lean, and amongst the laughter lines there were others that hadn’t been there before. Deeper ones that owed nothing to humour.
He’s older, she reminded herself—three years. He must be nearly thirty-five. He was a little less than two years older than her, and she’d be thirty-three soon. How time passed. Gracious, she’d only been twenty-eight when they’d met, thirty the year Jack had been born.
Jack.
She swallowed the lump. Some things you never got over.
He shrugged away from the pillar and turned towards her, and for a moment he froze.
Then an incredulous smile split his face and he strode down the ward towards her, arms outstretched, and she found herself wrapped hard against the solid warmth of his chest.
‘Molly!’
The word was muffled in her hair, but after a second he released her, grasping her shoulders in his big, strong hands and holding her at arm’s length, studying her with those amazing blue eyes.
‘My God, it really is you!’ he exclaimed, and hugged her again, then stood back once more as if he couldn’t quite believe his eyes.
Her defences trashed by the spontaneous warmth of his welcome, she smiled up at him. ‘Hello, Sam,’ she said softly. She could hardly hear her voice over the pounding of her heart, and she felt her smile falter with the strength of her tumbling emotions. She pulled herself together with an effort. ‘How are you?’
So polite, so formal, but then they always had been, really. It had been that sort of relationship, of necessity.
His mouth kicked up in a crooked grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and her heart stuttered for a second. Was something wrong? Something with Jack?
‘OK, I suppose,’ he said lightly. Too lightly. Something was wrong. ‘Busy,’ he added, ‘but, then, I’m always busy. Goes with the territory.’
‘And—Jack?’ she asked, hardly daring to say the words.
The grin softened, his eyes mellowing, and she felt the tension ease.
‘Jack’s great,’ he said. ‘He’s at school now. Well, nursery, really. He’s not old enough for school yet. And you? How are you? And why are you here?’
She smiled a little unsteadily, the relief making her light-headed. ‘I work here—I’m a midwife, remember?’
He looked at her then, registering her uniform as if for the first time, and a puzzled frown pleated his brow. ‘I thought you worked as a community midwife?’
‘I did, but not now. I only ever wanted to work part time, and it’s easier to do that in a hospital, so when this job came up, I applied for it. But what about you? I didn’t know you worked here—how did you keep that a secret?’
He laughed, his eyes crinkling again. ‘No secret. I wasn’t here until a few days ago, and I had no idea you were here, either. You used to live the other side of Ipswich, so you must have moved, too, unless you’re commuting.’
‘No, I’m not commuting, we’ve moved. We live in Audley now—near Mick’s parents, so they can see Libby. I’ve been working here for six months.’
He shook his head, his eyes bemused. ‘Amazing—but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. There aren’t that many hospitals, and it’s not the first time I’ve run into someone I know.’ He glanced up and checked the clock on the wall. ‘Look—are you busy now?’
She gave a tired laugh. ‘I’m always busy—it goes with the territory,’ she said, quoting his words back at him. ‘What did you have in mind?’
‘Coffee? Lunch? I don’t know—just a chance to catch up.’
Her heart hitched against her ribs. She wasn’t sure she wanted to catch up. She’d worked so hard to put Sam and Crystal behind her, and she’d battened down her heart around her memories of Jack. ‘Catching up’ sounded like the perfect way of ripping it all open again, exposing the wound and prodding it just for the hell of it.
‘I don’t know,’ she said honestly, not wanting to hurt him, but not willing to hurt herself again, either. ‘I’m not sure I want to, Sam. It was a long time ago—a lot of water under the bridge.’
His face became shuttered, and she could feel him withdrawing, all that glorious warmth pulling away from her and leaving her cold and lonely and aching.
‘Of course. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so thoughtless. Well, it’s lovely to see you looking so well. No doubt I’ll see you again.’
And turning on his heel, he strode away, leaving her standing there in a daze.
Idiot, she chastised herself. You fool! You should have talked to him. You’re going to have to work together, how can it help you to have this cold and awkward distance between you? And there’s Jack…
Jack’s not your son, she told herself. Let it go.
She dragged in a deep breath and stared blindly out of the window. Count to ten, she told herself. Or twenty.
Or ten zillion.
Or you could just go after him.
She went, freeing her feet from the floor with a superhuman effort and then, once she’d started to move, almost running after him down the corridor.
She reached the lobby just as the lift doors were sliding shut, and called his name.
A hand came out, blocking the doors, and they hissed open and he stepped out, his expression still guarded.
He didn’t say anything, just stood there waiting, watching her. The lift doors slid shut again behind him, but still he stood there. Oh, lord. She looked down, unsure what to say, then abandoned subterfuge and pretence. She’d never been any good at it, anyway. She let her breath go on a little whoosh.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly. ‘I didn’t mean to sound so cold. I’d love to have coffee with you.’
He was silent for a second, then nodded slowly. ‘Now? Or later?’
She shrugged. ‘Now would be fine for me. I was going to take a break now anyway, and nobody’s doing anything exciting at the moment. If things change they’ll page me. How about you?’
‘I’m fine. I’ve finished in Theatre. I only had a short list this morning, and we’re all done. I was just going to change and do a bit of admin. You’ll be doing me a huge favour if you take me away from it.’
She laughed, as she was meant to, and, instead of calling the lift again, he ushered her towards the stairs. They went down to the little coffee-shop at the back of the hospital, the one, she told him, that members of the public hadn’t really discovered, and he bought them coffee and sticky gingerbread slices and carried them over to a sofa. It was by the window, tucked in a corner overlooking a courtyard, and it was the closest thing they’d get to privacy.
For a moment neither of them said anything, and Molly wondered what on earth she was doing here with him. She must be mad.
He’d leant forward, his elbows on his knees, his fingers interlinked and apparently requiring his full attention, and she wondered what he was thinking. Then he looked across at her, catching her with her guard down, and his eyes seemed to spear right through to her soul.
‘So—how are you?’ he said, his voice low. ‘Honestly?’
She shrugged, suddenly swallowing tears. ‘I’m all right. Still the merry widow.’ Her laugh was hollow and humourless, and he searched her face with those piercing blue eyes that missed nothing.
‘Ah, Molly,’ he said gruffly, and, reaching out, he gave her fingers a quick squeeze. ‘I had hoped you’d be married again by now, settled down with someone worthy of your love.’
‘I am with someone. I’ve got Libby.’
‘A man, I meant.’
‘We don’t all need to be in a relationship, Sam,’ she pointed out softly. ‘Sometimes it’s better not to be.’
She looked away, not wanting him to read her eyes, but he was looking down at his hands again anyway, staring fixedly at his fingers as they threaded and unthreaded through each other. When he spoke, his voice was gruff.
‘I’m sorry I reacted like that—assuming you’d be as pleased to see me as I am to see you. It was crass of me. I apologise. I should have realised you’d moved on.’
‘I am pleased to see you,’ she told him, unable to lie, unable to let him believe anything less than the truth. ‘It’s just—I found it so hard, three years ago. I didn’t think I would, but it’s been really difficult, and I didn’t want to stir it all up, but now it is, anyway, and—well, I’ve longed to know how he is.’
He looked up and she met his eyes, and she saw sorrow and compassion in them, and an amazing tenderness. ‘He’s wonderful, Molly. Beautiful. Jack’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He’s brought me more joy than I could ever have imagined—and I owe it all to you.’
She swallowed again, shocked at how readily the tears seemed to form. She was always so grounded, so sensible, so dispassionate.
But not about Jack.
