Adopted: One Baby. NATASHA OAKLEYЧитать онлайн книгу.
behind her eyes.
‘No? Well, that was a silly question, really, if you didn’t know she was pregnant. But she needs a name, all the same.’ Ellie looked up from the sleeping baby. ‘What are you going to call her?’
‘Me?’
‘She can’t be Baby Drummond for ever.’
Lorna’s hand moved to rest against her stomach. A name? Vikki would probably have chosen something slightly alternative. Maybe Delilah… or Lola? Or…?
Her mind was a complete blank. She might not be the earth mother figure everyone was hoping for, but she wanted to get this right. A name stayed with you for life.
‘Choose something you like.’
‘Katherine.’ Her voice was husky. She’d no idea where that name had come from. Pulled from somewhere deep within her. ‘I’ll call her Katherine,’ she said, more firmly.
‘Nice.’ Ellie reached for a pen and wrote ‘Katherine’ on the notes hanging off the end of the bed, then leant over the cot. ‘Hello, Katherine. Your auntie is here, and you’ll soon be going home.’
‘She can’t go home with me.’ Lorna’s voice rang out, overloud. She hadn’t meant it to sound like that.
Ellie unbent and looked at her.
‘I—I want to make everything lovely for her. I do. But she can’t live with me.’
‘Lorna—’
‘I don’t know anything about babies.’ Her voice rose in a mixture of panic and desperation. ‘I’ve never even held one, and—’
‘There’s nothing that needs to be decided this moment,’ Ellie cut her off. ‘Don’t rush it. I’ll put you in touch with all the interested parties. Decisions can come later. Much later. You’ve got a lot to adjust to.’
But Lorna knew better. You couldn’t grow up with someone, share their secrets, and not know that if their situations had been reversed Ellie wouldn’t have hesitated. Katherine would have had a home, been loved.
‘There are lots of options for Katherine’s future. You’ll need to think carefully about them all. It’s important we get it right. She’s already lost her mum. That’s a tough start for anyone.’
Lorna glanced back at Katherine. She was sleeping. Her right hand was curled into a fist and resting against her cheek. ‘What will happen to her?’
‘If she doesn’t have a relative to take care of her, you mean?’
Lorna nodded.
‘Most probably she’ll be fostered while everyone makes every effort to find one.’
And if there aren’t any? Lorna didn’t need to ask the question out loud.
‘Eventually she’ll be put up for adoption. But not until everyone is certain her father isn’t going to step forward and claim her. There’s plenty of time.’
It was what she’d thought she wanted. All the way over on the plane. But it felt different when you were faced with a person not an ‘it’. Lorna brushed her hair back off her face, feeling the heat and the stress. Pain thumped through her temples. If she could just sleep. She was sure everything would be clearer then.
‘Did you come in by taxi?’ Ellie asked, watching her.
‘Yes.’
‘Then Rafe and I will take you home.’
Home. It had never really felt like a home. Not like Ellie’s. Ellie’s and Rafe’s. Their home had been full of comfy sofas, real coffee and walls of books. A wonderful, magical, warm place.
Their mother hadn’t screamed for constant attention or taken a cocktail of pills to keep her alive. And, unlike Lorna’s mum, she hadn’t relied on either of her children to run the house for her.
‘You don’t need to—’
‘We practically pass your front door.’
‘Will Rafe mind?’
Ellie laughed. ‘Why should he? I’ll take that as ayes, then.’
CHAPTER THREE
RAFE looked up as Lorna Drummond walked into the Bistro. She stopped in the doorway and appeared to be scanning the tables, looking for someone.
He didn’t like her much, but she was a stunning-looking woman. Ice-blonde hair cut in a tousled just-got-out-of bed style. Pencil-thin and expensively chic. High, high heels at the end of legs that seemed to stretch on and up for ever. He loved a good pair of legs.
Rafe sat back in his chair and admired the view. Who’d have thought Lorna Drummond would evolve into anything so glamorous? There’d been no suspicion of it a decade ago. Of the two sisters, Vikki had been the eye candy. A little too predatory for his taste, but undeniably a looker.
Lorna weaved her way through the melamine tables and queued at the self-service counter. He pulled his gaze away from the way the fabric of her cream skirt pulled tight across a neat bottom. Perhaps she’d had more in common with her flighty younger sister than anyone had imagined?
He sipped his black coffee and filled in the word ‘Botticelli’ for three down in his cryptic crossword. A shadow fell across his table.
Rafe looked up as Lorna sat down in the opposite chair. She put her coffee in front of her. ‘Ellie asked me to find you here. I’m afraid you’re taking me back to Little Mellingham. She’ll be down in ten minutes.’
He folded his newspaper in half once more.
Lorna twisted the cup round so that she could pick up the handle. ‘I meant to take a taxi, but…’ She looked up, and he watched a red stain work across her cheek. ‘Having fainted, Ellie won’t hear of it.’
‘Probably wise,’ Rafe said easily, and stretched out his legs beneath the table.
She’d blushed. He’d have laid money on there not being a woman over sixteen who still did that. His attention was caught.
Vikki, certainly, had lost the ability to blush around the age of eleven. He couldn’t make Lorna out at all. What kind of woman was she? Her words suggested one thing. Her blush something completely different.
Lorna picked up her coffee cup and took a sip. He watched as her face crumpled at the bitter taste. ‘That’s disgusting.’
‘Like tar,’ he agreed. ‘It requires a strong constitution.’
She returned it to the table and splayed her hands out on the melamine tabletop. Nice hands. Long fingers with carefully manicured nails. He liked women with beautiful hands.
He rather liked the way her hair curled about her face, too. It emphasised her almond-shaped eyes. Deep, deep brown, with flecks of topaz.
Rafe pulled the newspaper onto his lap and picked up his mug, swigging down the last of his coffee. ‘Have you seen the baby now?’
‘Yes.’ Her hands moved across the tabletop once more. ‘I’ve called her Katherine. She needed a name.’
Lorna had a nice voice too. The faintest hint of an American twang laid over the top of a Home Counties accent. But it was the husky edge to it that made it so sexy.
If the circumstances had been different he might have been very interested in this new incarnation of Lorna Drummond.
Particularly because he remembered the old Lorna. She’d been the girl who was too bright to fit in easily with her peers, and she’d not been helped by a pair of unattractive glasses and some very unfashionable clothes. Mainly he remembered her as a blushing appendage to his more vivacious sister. Until today she probably hadn’t managed more than three words in his company.
‘Sorry. Really