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The Child They Didn't Expect
Yvonne Lindsay
Surprise–it's a baby!After their steamy vacation fling, Alison Carter knows Ronin Marshall is a skilled lover and a billionaire businessman. But a father…who hires her New Zealand baby-planning service? This divorcée has already been deceived once; Ronin's now the last man she wants to see.But he must have Ali. Only she can rescue Ronin from the upheaval of caring for his orphaned nephew…and give Ronin more of what he shared with her during the best night of his life. But something is holding her back. And Ronin will stop at nothing to find out what secrets she's keeping!
The sight of Ali with a baby in her arms stopped him cold.
She was settling into the rocker with Joshua. The night-light bathed her in gold. Her tumbled curls, the shadows of her curves beneath her nightgown. His body reacted, his senses coming to swift attention. She shouldn’t be having this effect on him, yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
“I’ll take him. Go back to bed.” His tongue thickened on the words. Back to bed. They opened a floodgate of memories of what they’d shared. Of what he wanted to share with her again.
She looked up at him, and saw what he knew was reflected in his eyes. Hunger. Desire. Need.
A little voice in the back of his mind urged him to draw her into his arms, against his aching body. To do with her all those things his flesh clamored for.
Would he listen?
* * *
The Child They Didn’t Expect is part of the No.1 bestselling series from Mills & Boon
Desire™—Billionaires & Babies: Powerful men … wrapped around their babies’ little fingers.
The Child They Didn’t Expect
Yvonne Lindsay
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
New Zealand born, to Dutch immigrant parents, YVONNE LINDSAY became an avid romance reader at the age of thirteen. Now married to her “blind date” and with two fabulous children, she remains a firm believer in the power of romance. Yvonne feels privileged to be able to bring to her readers the stories of her heart. In her spare time, when not writing, she can be found with her nose firmly in a book, reliving the power of love in all walks of life. She can be contacted via her website, www.yvonnelindsay.com (http://www.yvonnelindsay.com).
I’m always very grateful to the generous hearts and minds that help me with the finer details of my books and this one is no different. This book I dedicate to Ashwini Singh with sincere thanks. Any errors relating to newborn intensive care are completely my own.
Contents
Cover (#u8fcfbc73-8d65-5d0b-9cc2-4b38d0b379f9)
Excerpt (#u9cd56b25-b6ec-5dda-9d20-000db10cc22c)
Title Page (#u167f706d-90c5-5d72-9307-1d0e33cab50e)
About the Author (#u06a54a09-4530-516c-ae88-8d09eb689c7c)
Dedication (#u0cb8320b-1c81-5591-9853-1fc27a870d22)
One (#u9244702c-6a2b-5241-880c-b4f8b16fab05)
Two (#udec11bab-8a2b-5eaa-8318-41d237f1afba)
Three (#ua6eb38fb-a99a-57e5-8e51-a309358b4b3a)
Four (#ueded7cb5-ec9a-5cf4-ad61-54bf4fb16984)
Five (#litres_trial_promo)
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Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
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Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
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Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
One (#ulink_8f05e681-74e9-5373-8f34-a7477ea0e59f)
Ronin lay wide awake in the darkness, his body sated and relaxed, yet hyperaware of the woman sleeping in his arms—of the softness of her curves pressed against his skin, of the sound of her gentle rhythmic breathing. Her lush dark brown hair tickled his sensitized flesh but he didn’t want to move from this place, lost as he still was in the intensity of their lovemaking.
He didn’t do one-night stands. Not ever. Well, not until tonight. But there had been something about this woman—a fellow New Zealander—that had struck him from the moment he’d brushed past her in the beachfront restaurant of their hotel complex. An instant responsiveness he had never experienced before had stirred in him. Something that saw him agree to the restaurant hostess’s suggestion that Ali join him at his reserved table after she was turned away due to overbooking.
The same something that had seen them go on to dancing after dinner, and then to a walk on the moonlit sands of Waikiki Beach. And finally, they had made love in her hotel room with a spontaneity and passion he’d never permitted himself to indulge in before.
His friends would be shocked if they ever heard that he—the king of all that was analytical and organized—had fallen into bed with a virtual stranger, purely based on feelings and the impulse of the moment. It wasn’t his way, not at all. It flew in direct contrast to his talent for deductive reasoning, to his clinical efficiency in being able to take a problem apart and put it back together, to his ability to fix all things falling apart through logic and rationality. There had been nothing logical or rational about the night he had spent with this woman. And yet, it had been...magical. Yes, that was the only word he could think of to describe it—a word too ephemeral for his charts and numbers world.
Ali sighed and turned on her side, shifting away from him. He was about to reach for her, to pull her back and wake her so they could build on what they’d already savored together, when the discreet but persistent buzz of his cell phone from the pocket of his trousers, somewhere on the floor, dragged his attention away.
He flicked a glance at the time on the digital display across the room as he felt around for his trousers in the dark. 5:10 a.m. It definitely wouldn’t be his client here in Waikiki who was calling. That only left home—New Zealand. His mind swiftly made the calculation. That would make it 4:10 a.m. tomorrow there, which was hardly a typical time for anyone to call. It was either a wrong number...or an emergency. He swept the phone into his hand, identifying his father’s photo and number on the screen, and moved quickly to the hotel room bathroom.
Pulling the door closed behind him, he answered the phone. His father’s anguished voice filled his ear.
“Dad, Dad, slow down. I can barely understand you.”
“It’s CeeCee, Ronin. She’s dead. And R.J., too.”
The horrifying words came through loud and clear. An icy cold sensation flooded through his veins. Surely this was some kind of nightmare. His beautiful and vibrant baby sister—dead? It couldn’t be true. She’d been the picture of good health, blooming in late pregnancy, when he’d left home three days before. Ronin’s brother-in-law had teased him about potentially missing the birth of his first niece or nephew because he’d been called to troubleshoot for an overseas client, yet again.
“How, Dad? When?” Shock made his lips stiff and uncooperative as he tried to form the words. “Tell me what happened.”
“She went into labor. R.J. was driving her to the birthing unit. A drunk driver went through a red light. He hit them broadside, pushed them into a pole. They didn’t stand a chance.”
His father’s voice cracked with emotion. The enormity of what had happened overwhelmed Ronin, and he felt his eyes burn with tears. As much as his brain screamed at him that this wasn’t happening, logic dictated that this was real, actual, true. And here he was, in Hawaii, far from his family when they needed him most.
“The baby?” he managed to ask through a throat constricted by the clutch of raw grief.
“He was born by emergency caesarian. He nearly didn’t make it. CeeCee died during the operation. Her injuries were too great for the doctors to save them both.”
Amid excoriating pain that threatened to drive him to his knees, Ronin processed the news that he had a nephew and forced himself to grapple with the knowledge that the much-loved, much-anticipated baby was now an orphan. He dragged his thoughts together. “Is Mum all right?”
“She’s in shock. We both are. I’m worried, Ronin. This isn’t good for her heart. We need you, son.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can. I promise.”
He took some details from his father and then, telling him he’d be in touch as soon as he had flight information, he reluctantly severed the call. Leaning against the cool tile of the wall, he took in several deep breaths. Calm. He needed to be calm and organized and all those things that usually came to him as second nature. It was a tall order when all he wanted to do was weep for the senseless loss his family had just suffered. For the dreams his sister and her husband would never see fulfilled. For the child who would grow up without his parents.
When he felt he had himself under control, he slipped back into the hotel room and silently gathered his clothing from where he’d scattered it so mindlessly on the floor only a few hours before. He dressed as quickly and quietly as he could and then let himself out of the room with one thing and one thing only on his mind. He had to get home.
* * *
The flight back to New Zealand, via Brisbane in Australia, had been undeniably long. He could have waited for a shorter, more direct flight later that day, but he needed to be home now and this was the flight that would get him there first. Ronin had filled the time by making lists of what needed to be done when he arrived home, of people who would need to be contacted, the arrangements made. Through it all his heart ached with a pain that was not as easily compartmentalized as the lists and instructions he’d so assiduously written.
Finally, after fifteen-plus hours of travel and transit, he was back where he belonged—where he was needed most. He spotted his father’s pale face in the Arrivals Hall the moment he stepped through from Customs. Strong, familiar arms clapped around him in a gesture that reminded him so much of when he was younger. And then he felt the shudder that passed through his father’s body and knew the older man now needed his comfort far, far more than he’d ever needed his father’s.
“I’m so glad you’re back, son. So glad.” His father’s voice trembled, sounding a hundred years older than he’d been only a few short days before.
“Me too, Dad. Me too.”
It was late, after midnight, when they drove from the airport to his parents’ Mission Bay apartment. As they carefully traversed the rain-slicked roads, his father hesitating that extra few seconds as each red light turned to green, Ronin turned his thoughts back to the woman he’d left behind in Hawaii. He’d have to contact the hotel, to leave a message explaining where he’d gone. He’d been so focused on the task of getting home as quickly as possible it hadn’t occurred to him until right now that he’d completely abandoned her.
When had she said she was traveling home again? He racked his memory but grief and exhaustion proved a barrier to his usually highly proficient brain. He made a mental note to get a message to her as soon as possible. But right now, he thought as they pulled into the underground parking at his parents’ apartment building on Auckland’s waterfront, his family—what was left of it—came first.
* * *
A touch of jet lag still weighed on her as Ali pulled up outside her business, Best for Baby. She knew she’d made the right decision to go to Hawaii for a vacation—it had been on her bucket list for years and she’d finally been able to tick it off. But she promised herself she’d be finding an airline carrier that offered direct flights at a more reasonable hour the next time she took the trip—cost be damned.
Of course it would have been more fun to share the vacation with someone else, but, in lieu of company, Ali had enjoyed the luxury of taking things at her own pace and being at her own beck and call for a change. Establishing her baby-planning business had taken everything out of her these past three years. She was proud of everything she’d accomplished, but it had taken a toll. She’d more than earned her holiday.
She should have returned reenergized and full of vigor. Instead, she was nursing emotional bruises that, logically, she knew shouldn’t hurt quite as much as they did. It had been one night only. A handful of hours at best. She’d gone into it with no expectations, and yet she felt cheated, as if something potentially special had slipped from her grasp.
It was ridiculous, she knew. The confused pain she was experiencing was nothing like the pain she’d felt five years before, when her husband had admitted he didn’t love her anymore, or even when he’d admitted to having an affair with the decorator he’d commissioned to redo his offices and to now loving her. But still, it left a sting when a guy sneaked out on a girl after the date night that, for Ali at least, had been the most excellent of all date nights—and especially when she’d broken every single rule in her book by sleeping with him. It had been an unpleasant shock to wake up alone. If he hadn’t planned to see her again, why had he suggested they have breakfast in the morning and then spend her last full day in Hawaii together? Would it have killed him to leave her a message? Anything?
She gave herself a sharp mental shake. Let it go, Ali, she censured silently. Let it go. She’d suffered far worse and survived. This was a blip on her personal radar—no more, no less—and it was about time she treated it as such. She had to be practical about it. She didn’t want another relationship—ever. Her business now filled the hole in her life that her broken marriage had left behind. Romance wasn’t in the cards for her again. And she was fine with that. She should have known better than to let a little moonlight and a handsome stranger confuse matters. The entire experience now proved to her that she should never break her own rules about getting close to another guy, no matter how strongly she was attracted to him.
Satisfied she had her head on straight, Ali walked through the front door and called out to her assistant and good friend, Deb, at the front desk. “Good morning! Did you miss me?”
“Oh my God, yes. I’ve been flat off my feet. I have so much to tell you, but first you must tell me about Hawaii. Is it as beautiful as it looks in pictures?”
“It certainly is beautiful,” she said with a smile. “Especially the sunsets. Here, let me show you.”
Ali retrieved her cell phone from her satchel and opened the picture gallery. Together they oohed and ahhed over the shots she’d taken during the past week.
“Are you sure you didn’t just photograph a postcard or something?” Deb asked dubiously as they lingered over a shot of the beach at sunset.
Ali looked at the screen of her phone, at the shades of apricot through to pink and purple that stained the sky and at the ubiquitous palm trees forming perfect silhouettes against it. That had been the night she’d met Ronin. The night she’d taken the plunge, thrown inhibitions to the wind and indulged in...well...him—the only man she’d ever slept with aside from her ex.
She vividly remembered everything about him from the first moment they’d brushed against one another. She’d just been turned away because the restaurant was fully booked, and as she was starting to leave, without looking where she was going, they had connected. She didn’t so much see him, as get a series of impressions of him. The first, being his size. Not just his height exactly, but his bulk and presence. It was almost as if he wore his masculinity like a coat of armor, his strength and power as much a part of him as the cells that made up his body. The second impression was his scent. With the tangle of fragrances and aromas in the air the hint of his cologne had been a subtle contrast. Almost like the sea breeze that blew up the beach, yet with a cool freshness that tantalized and teased her senses.
Their arms had grazed one another with the lightest of touches, and her breath had caught in her chest. It had been so long since her body had reacted in that way—that buzz, that zing of total awareness—that she’d almost forgotten what attraction felt like, especially attraction on such a visceral level. She’d felt feminine in every sense of the word.
His voice had been deep and resonant as he’d excused himself and stepped away. Ali had remained silent, too stunned by her physical reaction to his touch to do any more than nod her acknowledgment of his apology. It wasn’t until he was well past her that she’d realized his accent was just like her own—from New Zealand. She’d looked back over her shoulder and seen the hostess smile at him and pick up a menu before showing him through to his table. Beachfront. For one. And then she’d been invited to join him.
She shook off the flash of memory before her ever-astute friend saw too much on her face. Ali forced a laugh.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“And did you meet any hot guys? Please tell me you met someone.”
She managed to summon a smile from somewhere. “I didn’t go there to meet someone. I went there for a vacation, and that’s exactly what I had. Now, tell me about what’s kept you so busy while I was away,” she finished, deflecting Deb’s attention as effectively as she could.
Deb spent a good twenty minutes giving Ali the abridged version of what had been going on in her absence. Best for Baby, if requested, provided a range of services to expectant families, from baby showers to nursery shopping to interviewing and providing a shortlist of nannies, when needed. She’d had a slow start when she’d opened their doors three years prior, but over the past twelve months, referrals had begun to bring business with increasing frequency.
It was bittersweet work for a woman who knew she’d never bear a child of her own, but it was rewarding in its own way to create the perfect world for a new family.
A perfect world she’d never believed she wouldn’t have.
As a child she’d been a little mother for all her toys. She loved children, and had always been eager to raise a house full of them—a dream that she had shared with her high school sweetheart, who had become her husband. They’d hoped to start building their family right away after their wedding...but it wasn’t meant to be. Discovering she lacked the essential female ability to have a baby of her own had been a massive blow—one she’d believed she’d overcome with Richard at her side. But she’d discovered she was too flawed for him. So flawed that he’d stopped loving her—and eventually left her for another woman.
Over the past few years she’d become adept at hiding the pain her inadequacies caused her. As the youngest of four sisters, all of whom had children and had remained happily together with their spouses, it hadn’t been easy, but she’d gotten there. Best for Baby had given her a sorely needed sense of purpose, and had gotten her through the worst of it.
“The Holden baby shower went really well. They loved the games, and the cupcakes,” Deb said, pulling Ali’s focus to the here and now.
“Did you send flowers to the bakery with our thank-you note? The way they pulled that together on such short notice really saved us,” Ali said, remembering how, on the day of her departure to Hawaii, their usual catering supplier had let them down at the last minute.
“I certainly did. The owner called to say she’d be happy to continue to work with us in the future. Oh, and yesterday we got a new contract.”
“Don’t you mean a lead?”
“Nope. A bright, shiny new contract. Signed and everything.”
“What? Just like that?” Ali asked in disbelief.
“Yup, just like that.” Deb looked smug.
Usually there was a process—meetings with clients, presentations of proposals, acceptance of ideas and terms, etc. You didn’t just get a new contract straightaway like that. Or at least she hadn’t, up until now. Her incredulity must have shown on her face.
