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Mills & Boon Christmas Set. Кейт ХьюитЧитать онлайн книгу.

Mills & Boon Christmas Set - Кейт Хьюит


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a baby into their lives?

      “Yes,” Jefferson said. He said it to the bigger question, the one that required the only kind of courage.

      He said yes, again, just as he had three years ago, to the force that humbled a man completely, that was so much larger than anything he could ever be, that had plans for him that were so much bigger than anything he could have ever planned for himself. Jefferson Stone said yes to love.

      * * * * *

       Larenzo’s Christmas Baby

      Kate Hewitt

       ‘What are you hiding from me, Emma?’

      ‘Nothing …’ But it sounded feeble.

      Larenzo took another step towards her. ‘Tell me the truth. You’re hiding something. I don’t know what it could be, but—’

      ‘What do you think I’m hiding from you?’ She cut him off scornfully. She nodded towards the stairs. ‘A baby?’

      The words hung there, seeming to echo through the sudden silence of the room. Larenzo stared at her, saw how bloodless her lips were as they parted soundlessly. The thought hadn’t fully formed in his mind until she’d said the words. He’d sensed she was hiding something, had felt her panic and fear, had heard a baby cry … And yet it hadn’t all come together for him.

      But it did now, crystallising with shocking clarity, and without a word for her he turned from the room and bounded up the stairs.

      ‘Larenzo—’ She hurried after him, one arm flung towards him in desperate supplication. ‘Larenzo, please, don’t—’

      He could hear the child crying, the voice pitiful and plaintive.

      ‘Mama. Mama.’

      He threw open the door and came to a complete and stunned halt as he saw the baby standing in her cot, chubby fists gripping the rail, cherubic face screwed up and wet with tears.

      And Larenzo knew. He would have known just by looking at the child, with her ink-dark hair and large grey eyes, the cleft in her chin. He turned to Emma, who was gazing at him with undisguised panic.

      ‘When,’ he asked in a low, deadly voice, ‘were you going to tell me about my child?’

       One Night With Consequences

       When one night … leads to pregnancy!

      When succumbing to a night of unbridled desire it’s impossible to think past the morning after!

      But, with the sheets barely settled, that little blue line appears on the pregnancy test and it doesn’t take long to realise that one night of white-hot passion has turned into a lifetime of consequences!

      Only one question remains:

      How do you tell a man you’ve just met that you’re about to share more than just his bed?

      Find out in:

      Nine Months to Redeem Him by Jennie Lucas January 2015

      Prince Nadir’s Secret Heir by Michelle Conder March 2015

      Carrying the Greek’s Heir by Sharon Kendrick April 2015

      Married for Amari’s Heir by Maisey Yates July 2015

      Bound by the Billionaire’s Baby by Cathy Williams July 2015

      From One Night to Wife by Rachael Thomas September 2015

      Her Nine Month Confession by Kim Lawrence September 2015

      Look for more One Night With Consequences coming soon!

      If you missed any of these fabulous stories, they can be found at millsandboon.co.uk

      After spending three years as a die-hard New Yorker, KATE HEWITT now lives in a small village in the English Lake District with her husband, their five children and a golden retriever. In addition to writing intensely emotional stories she loves reading, baking, and playing chess with her son—she has yet to win against him, but she continues to try.

      Learn more about Kate at www.kate-hewitt.com.

       CHAPTER ONE

      THE SOUND OF the car door slamming echoed through the still night. Emma Leighton looked up from the book she’d been reading in surprise; as housekeeper of Larenzo Cavelli’s isolated retreat in the mountains of Sicily, she hadn’t been expecting anyone. Larenzo was in Rome on business, and no one came to the villa perched high above Sicily’s dusty hill towns and villages. Her employer liked his privacy.

      She heard brisk footsteps on the stone path that led to the villa’s front door, an enormous thing of solid oak banded with iron. She tensed, waiting for a knock; the villa had an elaborate security system with a numbered code that was only known by her and Larenzo, and the door was locked, as Larenzo always insisted.

      She held her breath as she heard the creak of the door opening and then the beep of buttons being pressed, followed by a longer beeping indicating the security system had been deactivated. As her heart did a queasy little flip, Emma tossed her book aside and rose from her chair. Larenzo never came back early or unexpectedly. He always texted her, to make sure she had everything ready for his arrival: his bed made with freshly ironed sheets, the fridge stocked, the pool heated. But if it wasn’t him...who was it?

      She heard footsteps coming closer, a heavy, deliberate tread, and then a figure, tall and rangy, appeared in the doorway.

      ‘Larenzo—’ Emma pressed one hand to her chest as she let out a shaky laugh of relief. ‘You scared me. I wasn’t expecting you.’

      ‘I wasn’t expecting to come here.’ He stepped into the spacious sitting room of the villa, and as the lamplight washed over his face Emma sucked in a shocked breath. Larenzo’s skin looked grey, and there were deep shadows under his eyes. His hair was rumpled, as if he’d driven his hand through the ink-dark strands.

      ‘Are you—are you all right?’

      His mouth twisted in a grim smile. ‘Why, do I not look all right?’

      ‘No, not really.’ She tried to lighten her words with a smile, but she really was alarmed. In the nine months she’d been Larenzo’s housekeeper, she’d never seen him look like this, not just tired or haggard, but as if the life force that was so much a part of who he was, that restless, rangy energy and charisma, had drained away.

      ‘Are you ill?’ she asked. ‘I can get you something...’

      ‘No. Not ill.’ He let out a hollow laugh. ‘But clearly I must look terrible.’

      ‘Well, as a matter of fact, yes, you do.’

      ‘Thank you for your honesty.’

      ‘Sorry—’

      ‘Don’t be. I can’t bear lies.’ A sudden, savage note had entered his voice, making Emma blink. Larenzo crossed the room to the liquor cabinet in the corner. ‘I need a drink.’

      She watched as he poured himself a large measure of whisky and then tossed it back in one burning swallow. His back was to her, the silk of his suit jacket straining against his shoulders and sinewy back. He was an attractive


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