Ginna Gray - A Baby For Emily

Emily’s words rang in Dillon’s head: You don’t even like me.

Dillon snorted.

He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised she believed that. By his actions these past seven years—avoiding her whenever he could, keeping his distance during family gatherings—he had made it appear that way.

How would Emily react, Dillon wondered, if she knew the truth? That all these years, since before his brother had swept her off her feet and married her, he had been in love with her.

And that the baby she now carried was not her late husband’s, as she believed.

It was his….

Dear Reader,

This May, we celebrate Mother’s Day and a fabulous month of uplifting romances. I’m delighted to introduce RITA ®Award finalist Carol Stephenson, who debuts with her heartwarming reunion romance, Nora’s Pride. Carol writes, “Nora’s Pride is very meaningful to me, as my mother, my staunchest fan and supporter, passed away in May 2000. I’m sure she’s smiling down at me from heaven. She passionately believed this would be my first sale.” A must-read for your list!

The Princess and the Duke, by Allison Leigh, is the second book in the CROWN AND GLORY series. Here, a princess and a duke share a kiss, but can their love withstand the truth about a royal assassination? We have another heart-thumper from the incomparable Marie Ferrarella with Lily and the Lawman, a darling city-girl-meets-small-town-boy romance.

In A Baby for Emily, Ginna Gray delivers an emotionally charged love story in which a brooding hero lays claim to a penniless widow who, unbeknownst to her, is carrying their child…. Sharon De Vita pulls on the heartstrings with A Family To Come Home To, in which a rugged rancher searches for his family and finds true love! You also won’t want to miss Patricia McLinn’s The Runaway Bride, a humorous tale of a sexy cowboy who rescues a distressed bride.

I hope you enjoy these exciting books from Silhouette Special Edition—the place for love, life and family. Come back for more winning reading next month!

Sincerely,

Karen Taylor Richman

Senior Editor

www.millsandboon.co.uk

A native Texan, Ginna Gray lived in Houston all her life until 1993, when she and her husband, Brad, built their “dream home” and moved to the mountains of Colorado. Coming from a large Irish/American family, in which spinning colorful yarns was commonplace, made writing a natural career choice for Ginna. “I grew up hearing so many fascinating tales, I was eleven or twelve before I realized that not everyone made up stories,” Ginna says. She sold her first novel in 1983 and has been working as a full-time writer ever since. She has also given many lectures and writing workshops and judged in writing contests. The mother of two grown daughters, Ginna also enjoys other creative activities, such as oil painting, sewing, sketching, knitting and needlepoint.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

She’s hanging on by a thread.

Dillon Maguire ground his teeth. He stood alone in the bay window alcove, a little apart from the others, his intense gaze fixed on his sister-in-law.

Sitting on one of the twin living room sofas flanking the fireplace with her hands folded in her lap, Emily Collins Maguire stared into the middle distance at nothing. For the most part she seemed oblivious to the other mourners crowded into her posh, northwest Houston home. Whenever someone approached her, she raised stricken eyes and murmured a few words, even attempted a watery smile, but as soon as the person moved away she withdrew again into her own private hell.

Dammit, it was barbaric to put her through this, Dillon silently raged. And for what? To honor a man who, in dying, had revealed himself to be without honor?

Dillon glanced around at the other people milling through the impressive house. The fierceness of his gaze caused several of those nearby to regard him with alarm and retreat a few paces.

Just look at them, he thought with disgust. Look at them! Swilling wine and devouring the buffet meal. They huddled together in little groups, chatting among themselves, even laughing discreetly, all the while casting sidelong glances at the widow and whispering behind their hands.

Some were neighbors and friends. A few were family, but most of these people had been Keith’s colleagues at St. John’s General Hospital. Did they see so much death and human agony that they were inured to Emily’s pain? To the humiliation she was suffering?

Oh sure, the doctors and nurses and other hospital staff had all been shocked by the unexpected death of one of their own, and no doubt Dr. Keith Wesley Maguire would be missed. However, Dillon suspected that a lot of these people had come to the funeral, and now the wake, not so much to show respect or to grieve, but out of a sick desire to see how the widow was holding up.

And, of course, to rehash and relish this juicy scandal.

Keith himself had often laughed about what a hotbed of gossip St. John’s was. And it wasn’t every day, after all, that one of the medical community’s most esteemed oncologists died in bed with his mistress.

Though the firemen had managed to put out the blaze before it reached Keith and his lover, the pair had died in their sleep of asphyxiation, wrapped in each other’s arms, naked. Later it had been revealed that the mortgage on the apartment was in Keith’s name.

Dillon’s gaze went back to Emily, and his mouth tightened. On the surface she appeared to be hanging in there, but she was pale as bleached flour. And so tense and fragile she looked as though she might shatter into a million pieces at any moment. Like brittle glass.

No small wonder.

That Emily had received the most joyous news of her life only hours earlier had made Keith’s death doubly devastating. In the space of just a few hours she had gone from euphoria to the depths of despair.

Dillon could not even imagine how she must feel. His own grief was a crushing, hollow ache in his chest, as though someone had cut out his heart with a dull knife. He didn’t know which was worse—the pain of losing his brother, or the anger that threatened to consume him.

A tiny muscle rippled in Dillon’s cheek as his jaw clenched tighter. Damn you, Keith. Damn you! How could you do this to her?

His heart pounded against his ribs, but it was only when the rattle of china drew his gaze downward that he realized he was shaking with fury. He stared at the cup, dancing in its saucer, the quivering, shiny surface of the coffee that he hadn’t touched, surprised that he still held it.

“You’re Keith’s brother, aren’t you?”

Dillon looked up from placing the cup on the grand piano and found himself facing a slender man in his late thirties. His face was vaguely familiar. An instant later Dillon recognized him as one of the partners in the medical group where Keith had practiced.

The man stuck out his hand. “I’m Dr. Garrett Conn, one of Keith’s partners. We met once, several years ago, but you probably don’t remember me. I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am for your loss.”