“Could I fire you with a kiss? Do you believe I could do it?”
He was standing above her, his body throbbing, taunted by the languorous look in her eyes.
“You’d hardly want to,” she said, and although she spoke lightly, he guessed she, too, was trapped by a sudden shift in the atmosphere in the room. “I mean, look at me—your archetypal plain Jane! I’m jeans and T-shirt, not high fashion—short and dumpy, not slim and willowy.”
“You’re a woman, and I’m a man,” he said, determined to prove his point, although somewhere deep inside he was distressed she should make light of her appearance. “Sometimes that is all it takes.”
He took her hand and drew her to her feet, not forcing her, but allowing no resistance, and then made the kiss a reality, his lips claiming hers with an arrogance that took her breath away.
Dear Reader,
While I was writing A Father by Christmas—I love writing Christmas books!—I found myself more and more interested in an unborn baby who was a very minor player in the book. Before I realized what had happened, I knew I had to write another book so I could find out more about the baby. Imagine my delight when I realized that the father was a very sexy Spaniard—perfect hero material. But would such a gorgeous hunk ever fall in love with Marty, who wasn’t very beautiful, or very tall, but who had taken the baby into her heart and would obviously make the perfect mother for the little girl? I had my doubts, but love is a wondrous thing and when these two were thrown together, and forced to fight for the baby’s welfare, even fight for her life, magic happened and they turned into perfect partners, in life, in work and in love.
Wasn’t that convenient?
Meredith Webber
The Spanish Doctor’s Convenient Bride
Meredith Webber
MILLS & BOON
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MEDITERRANEAN DOCTORS
Let these exotic doctors sweep you off your feet….
Be tantalized by their smoldering good looks, romanced by their fiery passion and warmed by the emotional power of these strong and caring men….
MEDITERRANEAN DOCTORS
Passionate about life, love and medicine
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
‘MOZART would be good for all the babies in the NICU,’ Marty protested. ‘I’ve picked out melodies everyone knows so the parents would enjoy it too. Besides, Emmaline is used to it. It’s what I’ve played for her all along.’
Sophie Gibson touched her friend lightly on the shoulder.
‘She’s not your baby,’ she gently reminded Marty. ‘In fact, she’s not even called Emmaline.’
‘But you’ve got to admit she looks like an Emmaline, doesn’t she?’
Marty put her hand through the port of the humidicrib and touched the wild black hair poking up from beneath the stockingette cap on the head of the tiny baby. Emmaline’s cherub face was screwed up as if sleeping required the utmost concentration, her little fists tucked up against her chin, ready to take on anyone who bothered her.
Or who messed with her Mozart!
‘She looks like a baby,’ Sophie said, then turned, smiling, as she heard her husband’s voice.
‘Glad you’re both here,’ Alexander Gibson said quietly. ‘Sophie, Marty, I’d like you both to meet Dr Carlos Quintero. He’s the baby’s father.’
Gib’s eyes sought out Marty, and she hoped the sick despair that squeezed her stomach wasn’t written on her face.
Stupid to have grown attached to Emmaline—stupid, stupid, stupid!
‘Carlos, this is Sophie Gibson, second in charge of the neonatal intensive care unit, and Marty Cox, the obstetrician who took care of Natalie during the time she was in on life support in the intensive care unit.’
The dark-haired, deeply tanned stranger bowed his head towards the two women, but Marty sensed his eyes, hidden beneath hooded, jet-fringed lids, were on Emm—the baby.
Then he lifted his head and eyes as dark as his lashes—obsidian stones in his harsh-planed face—met Marty’s.
‘I will wish to speak further to you,’ he said, his deep, accented voice, though quiet, carrying easily around the room.
Presence, that’s what he has, Marty thought, although she doubted presence was the reason for a sudden fluttery feeling in her chest.
‘Of course,’ she agreed, as easily as possible given the fluttery stuff going on. ‘Any time. Well, not quite any time, but we can make a time.’
She was chattering, something she only did when she was nervous, and of course Emmaline’s father suddenly turning up would make her nervous.
Wouldn’t it?
‘Why not now?’ Sophie suggested. ‘You’ve just come off duty.’
Marty fired a ‘some friend you are’ glance towards the neonatologist, and wondered just how bad she, herself, looked. Flat hair from the cap she’d been wearing in the delivery room, a too-large scrub suit billowing around her slight frame.
And you’re worrying because?