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His Miracle Baby
Kate Walker
Why had Ellie left him? Morgan didn't know.It was obvious she'd still been blissfully in love with him. She'd even agreed with his edict that they never have children.Then Ellie had disappeared.When Morgan found her to his absolute shock, she had with her the most adorable baby girl that he'd ever seen. His heart twisted inside him.Had Ellie found another man to give her what he never could, or was this baby Morgan's very own miracle?
“How old is she?” Morgan asked Ellie
“She’s eight months.”
“Gah!”
Rosie shrieked at the top of her voice and flung her rattle straight at Morgan. He held it out to her again. Two pairs of sapphire eyes locked for endless seconds, the baby’s holding a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, Morgan’s impossible to read, before a plump hand reached out and snatched the rattle back.
“And gah to you, too,” Morgan returned with a flicker of amusement.
Ellie turned away to hide the hot, betraying tears that stung her eyes. Morgan’s tiny smile had shattered her composure.
Would that smile still be there if he knew the truth?
“She’s a pretty little thing,” Morgan said. “I assume that she takes after her father?”
in
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A Secret Vengeance
Harlequin Presents #2236
His Miracle Baby
Kate Walker
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER ONE
IT WAS the moment Ellie had been dreading most. The worst moment in a day she had been anticipating with a sense of something close to horror for almost a month now.
No, that wasn’t strictly true. The actual fact was that she had feared this moment for around a year and a half. Ever since she had left Morgan and fled here to Cornwall, she had had the worry at the back of her mind that one day he might come back into her life.
And that day was now. The thought was enough to still her footsteps, bring her to a stumbling halt, a thousand frantic butterflies fluttering wildly inside her stomach as she stared at the short stretch of path that led away from her, towards the cottage.
‘I can’t! I can’t do it.’
Morgan was just around that corner. And he was waiting for her to appear. Though of course he didn’t actually know it was Ellie he was waiting for. And the thought of his probable reaction lifted all the tiny hairs on her skin in a shivering reaction to the panic that clenched all her nerves tight.
‘Come on, Eleanor,’ she reproached herself. ‘What can he do to you?’
He didn’t have to do anything, that was the trouble. Morgan could mess up her life, her mind, her heart, simply by existing, and, no matter how she tried, nothing would change that.
No!
Pushing a hand through the golden blonde length of her hair, she squared her slim shoulders resolutely.
‘Get a move on…’
Once more she addressed herself out loud. It was the only way to drown out the endless chattering of the inner voice of fear and unhappiness.
‘Just go!’
Somehow the command gave her the impetus to move, one step following the other, her determination growing, adding force, speed to her movements until at last she swung round the corner in a rush.
The sleek, powerful Alfa Romeo parked incongruously on the unmade road outside the small cottage told its own story. If she had been in any possible doubt, had harboured any weak, faint hope that the Morgan Stafford who had arranged for a six-month rental could possibly be someone other than the man she dreaded seeing, then that, and the sight of the tall, dark figure standing beside it, immediately disabused her.
She had forgotten just how big he was. Big and powerful, with a whipcord strength that made her mouth dry just to think of it. In well-worn jeans, tight as a second skin, and an equally elderly, faded, soft denim shirt that clung lovingly to the strong lines of his shoulders and arms, he wouldn’t have been taken by anyone for the latest star in the literary firmament and a strong contender for an Oscar for the screenplay of his award-winning thriller.
He was leaning against the rough stone wall of the cottage, long legs crossed at the ankles, arms folded across his powerful chest in a gesture of controlled impatience. But as she approached, more slowly now, he straightened up, somehow managing to convey a sense of disapproval with every movement as he glanced pointedly at his watch.
‘You’re late!’ were the first words she had heard from him in what seemed like a lifetime.
Morgan saw Ellie coming down the path towards him and felt his insides clench in instant response to just the sight of her.
She hadn’t changed. The afternoon sun glinted on the golden length of her hair, warming the peach softness of her skin to an enticing glow. Her tall, shapely body was enhanced by the neat red skirt that clung to the curve of her hips, the crisp white shirt, open at the neck to give a provocative glimpse of the slender neck that had always delighted him in the past.
She was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. The woman who had haunted his dreams by night, tormenting him with a thousand potently erotic images, so that he woke with his heart and head pounding, his body slick with sweat, and the ache of need clawing at him like a pain.
He had to say something. But what did you say to the woman who had, metaphorically at least, kicked you in the guts before walking out of the life you shared without a backward glance?
The life he had thought they’d shared.
The small correction altered his mood at once. The nostalgic feeling vanished as anger rushed over it, dark and thick and hot.
‘You’re late!’
That brought her head up sharp as he had known it would. The neat chin lifted determinedly, stunning amber eyes flashing gold behind their lush shield of long, thick lashes—impossibly dark for someone with her colouring. This was the way she’d looked the first moment he’d seen her. She’d knocked him for six then and if he didn’t get a grip on himself she’d do it again.
‘I’m late? I think not! If anything, you are early. We said three o’clock and it’s…it’s…’
Words failed Ellie as she stared at her watch in stunned confusion. Of all the times for the battery to die, it had to go and do it now!
‘It’s very nearly half past,’ Morgan supplied for her as she glared at the offending watch, shaking her wrist roughly in a vain attempt to get it started again. ‘I see your time-keeping hasn’t got any better over the past eighteen months.’
He had come closer as he’d spoken, moving between her and the sun so that his long body cast a shadow over her as she concentrated fiercely on the unmoving second hand on her watch.
Don’t look at him! Don’t look! she told herself fiercely. Don’t even risk it until you’re more under control!
Every inch of skin on her body felt as if it were afflicted by prickling pins and needles, and with the once dearly familiar scent of his body tantalising her nostrils she had to struggle to hide her instinctive response. Electricity sizzled along her nerves, making her heart beat a crazy, uneven tattoo. If she looked into his face she would be lost for ever.
And so in spite of her hunger, the aching need to see just once more the features of the man who had taken total possession of her heart and never let it go, she kept her gaze stubbornly averted, watching him only out of the corners of her eyes.
‘But if you will insist on wearing that decrepit old thing, then I suppose you can’t expect it to be accurate.’
‘I happen to like this watch!’ Ellie retorted defensively. It was also the only one she could afford, but she wasn’t going to admit that to him. ‘And living and working on a farm, I wouldn’t have much use for anything more expensive.’
‘True,’ Morgan conceded. ‘Though I have to admit that a farm in rural Cornwall was really the last place I ever expected to find you.’
‘I…’
Her resolution failed her as surprise forced her gaze upwards, to focus on the hard-boned face, all her fears realised as she felt the thudding shock to her system.
Dear heaven, but he looked good! So stunningly, devastatingly good.
After all those months of abstinence, the hunger that swamped her was like a raging tide, sweeping everything before it and threatening to throw her thought processes into total chaos.
‘Expected to find…? Y-you knew!’ she forced herself to stammer. ‘You were expecting me all the time. So the story that you were here to do research was pure make-believe.’
It made her blood run cold in horror at the idea.
‘Not completely,’ Morgan returned imperturbably. ‘I do have research to do for my next book. And I’ve tried hotels but I just can’t work in them. So renting a place to live in seemed the next best idea.’
‘But you could rent anywhere you like—there are many more houses, all much bigger and better than this cottage! You could easily afford any one of them—you could even buy one of them if you wanted to! Why did you have to come here?’
‘This place suits me. I don’t need space—somewhere to eat, sleep and work is all I want. But to work I need quiet and…’
His narrow-eyed glance took in the wooded surroundings, the rutted path that led to the cottage, the distant view of the sea.
‘They really don’t come much quieter than this.’
His half smile challenged her to make more of it than that. But there was more to make of it, Ellie could have no doubt. Too late, she recognised the clues that her tension had made her miss the first time.
There had been his total lack of surprise at her appearance. His total lack of anything, just that cold, hard, assessing stare that had been fixed on her as she’d walked the last few yards. He had not been expecting just anyone. He had known very well who would come to hand over the key, show him round the cottage. He had been expecting her, and her alone.
And that begged the question—why?
‘Just what are you doing here, Morgan?’
She had forgotten just how blue his eyes were until now when, up close, she found herself seared by their sapphire blaze, her own angry glare caught and held transfixed, unable to look away.
‘Perhaps I came to look up an old friend.’
‘Friend!’ she scorned the word cynically. ‘We were never friends. Things moved so fast at the start that we never had time for friendship. And you were certainly not in the least bit friendly when you told me to go—to get out of your life and stay out of it for good.’
‘I didn’t feel friendly,’ Morgan growled savagely, a black scowl darkening his face. ‘I couldn’t wait to see the back of you.’
‘A fact which you made perfectly plain.’ Remembered pain roughened the edge of her voice.
‘Well, what did you expect? After all, you’d just told me that you’d been seeing someone else.’
She hadn’t actually told him that. It had been a conclusion he had jumped to, and in order to protect herself she had let him think it. By that point she had been too worn down, too miserable to fight him any more.
‘Which brings us back to my question. Precisely why are you here?’
This time his smile was icy, fiendish, tinged with a danger that set her teeth on edge.
‘Perhaps I’m planning an old lovers’ reunion.’
That smile did terrible things to what little was left of Ellie’s composure.
