Her Hired Husband. Renee RoszelЧитать онлайн книгу.
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“Oh—wait! Please!”
Noah’s plan to make a swift exit was thwarted by his hostess’s entreaty. When he turned, she was lumbering down the stairs, a protective hand on her stomach. Her descent was precariously rapid and he automatically headed in her direction.
“Don’t—you’ll fall.” He jogged up several steps and took her arm. “What’s so important?”
“You—can’t go!” Sally said, short of breath. “What do I tell them?”
Noah was confused. “About what?”
“About us—being deliriously happy!”
“I don’t care what you tell them.” He separated her desperate, clutching fingers from his shirtfront and took off the wedding ring she’d given him. “Tell your grandparents whatever you want. Have a good life.”
She made a pained face. “I’ll pay you!”
“I don’t want your money.”
“What do you want? I’ll do anything!” she cried.
What happens when you suddenly discover your happy twosome is about to be turned into a…family?
Do you panic?
Do you laugh?
Do you cry?
Or…do you get married?
The answer is all of the above—and plenty more!
Share the laughter and the tears as these unsuspecting couples are plunged into parenthood!
When parenthood takes you by surprise!
Her Hired Husband
Renee Roszel
MILLS & BOON
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To my sons, Doug and Randy.
Little did I know the eighteen months I spent pregnant with you guys would turn out to be the hardest, yet most rewarding research I’ve ever done!
Love, Mom
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
SALLY forced a smile as she stared at the two people she disliked most in the world. What a shame they were nearly all the family she had. In her head, she knew she didn’t owe them any explanations, but her heart told her to lie.
The sound of a car crunching over the gravel driveway alerted her to the fact that her fake husband had arrived. Exhaling with relief, she blessed her brother for coming through for her. “Excuse me—grandmother, grandfather.” She rushed out of the parlor to her front door.
Well, “rushed” might not be the best word, since she was eight months pregnant, and at the moment rushing wasn’t something she did with great skill. Her heart thudded as she flung open the door and tramped down the plank stairs, clutching the worn wood rail with one hand. The other was unconsciously spread across her belly, a protective gesture. “Thank goodness,” she mumbled, a little winded. She checked her watch. “Perfect timing.”
The man who emerged from the pickup truck was better looking than she’d hoped for. Several inches over six feet tall, he made a striking presence in a beige polo shirt, khaki trousers and Roper boots. Wide shoulders didn’t hurt the tall-dark-and-handsome look one bit. Black, neatly trimmed hair glistened like Texas crude oil in the mild, early March sunshine. Her gaze was drawn to his eyes—amazing, mirror-bright blue, of the heavy-lidded, bedroom variety. With lashes that swept out like summertime awnings. Gazing into those eyes struck a long-dormant chord and she experienced a twinge of desire. Fine timing, she admonished inwardly. To him you look like the Goodyear Blimp!
Leave it to Sam to recruit the best-looking orderly at the hospital. She’d worried about what pitiful specimen of mankind would agree to her ploy and actually show up. She was pleasantly shocked by this guy. Of course, considering Sam’s renowned bedside manner, her doctor-brother could talk a duck into an oven if he put his mind to it.
She hadn’t realized she’d smiled at that thought until the man smiled back. The pleasant expression was a slight, one-sided job. Even so, with those great male lips, that lopsided grin did more to her than most full-fledged grins. She actually tingled with appreciation. Stop it, ninny, she scolded herself mentally. Don’t get giddy and feminine. Time’s wasting! He’s doing you a favor, now get on with it!
Her boldly handsome orderly rounded the truck and held out a hand. “Hi, Sam sent me to—”
“I know.” She grabbed his outstretched fingers and tugged him up the wooden steps. “Follow my lead.” She hauled him through the door. “Oh—and you’re a doctor.” Her whisper held an urgent, life-or-death edge.
Just before entering the parlor, she remembered the ring. “Darn!” Skidding to a halt, she fished around in her smock pocket, grabbed it and shoved it onto his finger. By some miracle, it fit. “That was close.” She cast him a quick, conspiratorial look.
His eyes had narrowed slightly and he stared at her curiously. She made a sheepish face. “It’s more traditional.” She grasped the hand she’d