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His Very Own Baby. Rebecca WintersЧитать онлайн книгу.

His Very Own Baby - Rebecca Winters


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with the fact that she might have to move to Warwick and rent an apartment until Alik’s work took him elsewhere. But whatever she had to do, it was worth it to keep her baby.

      As for Alik’s parents, they still wouldn’t have to know anything about his secret child. Thank heaven Long Island was too far away to pose any kind of threat of her being seen in this area of the state.

      Out of habit, she got up from the bed and flicked on the light switch to pour Nicky’s formula into a clean bottle. When she turned around Alik was right behind her, their fussy baby propped against his shoulder.

      “I want to feed him. Show me what to do.”

      He stood too close. She could feel his warmth. The familiar brand of the soap he used in the shower emanated from his bronzed skin, assailing her senses. His shuttered eyes reminded her of the way he used to look at her when his passion had been aroused.

      Out of self-preservation she ran for the baby bag. “He needs to have his diaper changed first,” she called over her shoulder. “Lay him down on the quilt and you can do it.”

      The next few minutes were instructive as he followed her directions with methodical attention to detail. Dr. Jarman was known as a perfectionist. He would be that way when it came to caring for his son.

      Out of the periphery she saw the glow in his eyes, revealing the bursting pride in his little boy who was perfect in every way, shape and form.

      When he’d finally managed to slip the baby into a clean shirt and nightgown, she suggested he sit at the head of the bed with Nicky nestled in his left arm.

      His daddy had taken a little too long for his liking with all the baby wipes, ointment and powder. Now their son was all worked up and clamored for his food.

      Averting her eyes, she placed a clean cloth over Alik’s broad shoulder, careful not to touch him for fear she wouldn’t want to stop. Then she handed him the bottle.

      “Go ahead and put it in his mouth. He’ll do the rest. When he’s drunk a third of it, prop him on your shoulder and gently pat his back to get rid of the air bubbles. By the time he has drained the bottle, he’ll be fast asleep again. Give him one more burp and then put him in his crib.

      “Be sure to lay him on his back before you cover him with his quilt. The doctor says a lot of infant deaths have been prevented by putting them in that position.”

      She stood for a minute to watch. Nicky searched in frustration for the nipple, but couldn’t quite get hold of it.

      “Insert it right into his mouth. He’s not a fragile piece of crystal.”

      When Alik did her bidding, the baby started devouring his formula. He drank so fast and furiously, he made loud noises that sounded indecent. Alik’s laughter started in his throat and rumbled out to fill the hotel room.

      She couldn’t help smiling. “As you’re discovering, he has your healthy appetite.” Before she gave her feelings away, she removed herself to the other bed.

      “Do you want me to leave the light on or off?”

      “On,” he murmured. “I still have trouble believing he’s real, let alone that he came from one night’s pleasure with you.”

      The thickness in his tone sent delicious pains through her body.

      “I could look at him all night. He has your eyes and eyebrows. It’s your mouth in miniature. Even I who am biased because I’m his father, can see he’s a living miracle because you’re his mother. For a woman who hates my guts, you’ve given me a priceless treasure.”

      She winced at the sudden twist of the knife.

      “Because of this noble gesture you’ve made,” he said with glaring sarcasm, “I’m prepared to offer you a deal. There’ll be no bargaining. You will either accept it, or I’ll take Nicky away from you forever.”

      Here it comes, Blaire. Her fingernails dug into the quilted bedspread covering the mattress.

      “For the next month you’ll live in my trailer with me. Separate beds of course. I need that amount of time to get used to my son’s routine, and for him to get used to me.

      “At the end of the thirty days—if you’ve kept your side of the bargain by staying put to help me establish an unbreakable bond with our innocent child—then and only then will I be willing to talk about joint custody. Otherwise we go to court. I promise you it will be a fight you’ll wish you hadn’t started,” he vowed with a fierceness she’d never heard come out of him before.

      “That’s it. That’s the bargain. If your fiancé doesn’t like the idea of being separated from you for a month, that’s tough! Compared to nine months deprivation from my unborn child, he damn well has nothing to complain about.”

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