Nic let out a long, slow breath, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck.
For a minute Lily wondered if she’d completely misread what had been going on between them—maybe he was more interested in just being friends?
She risked a glance up at him, and all her doubts fled. The heat in his eyes told her everything she needed to know about how he felt—and it was a lot more than friendly. She felt that heat travel to the depths of her belly, warming her from the inside until it reached her face as a smile. He pulled gently on her hand, bringing her close to him, and planted his other hand on her hip.
“Is this a good idea?” she asked, knowing the answer, knowing just as well that it wasn't going to stop them.
“Terrible,” Nic answered, dropping her hand, his palm finding her cheek. “Want to stop?”
Stop? How could they stop? They’d tried to avoid it—they’d talked about exactly why it was a bad idea. Looking deep into Nic’s eyes now, she could see that he still had reservations, that he still didn’t fully believe this was the right thing to do … but stop?
“No.”
Newborn On Her Doorstep
Ellie Darkins
www.millsandboon.co.uk
ELLIE DARKINSspent her formative years devouring romance novels, and after completing her English degree she decided to make a living from her love of books. As a writer and editor her work now entails dreaming up romantic proposals, hot dates with alpha males and trips to the past with dashing heroes. When she’s not working she can usually be found at her local library or out for a run.
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For Rosie and Lucy
Contents
Cover
Introduction Nic let out a long, slow breath, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. For a minute Lily wondered if she’d completely misread what had been going on between them—maybe he was more interested in just being friends? She risked a glance up at him, and all her doubts fled. The heat in his eyes told her everything she needed to know about how he felt—and it was a lot more than friendly. She felt that heat travel to the depths of her belly, warming her from the inside until it reached her face as a smile. He pulled gently on her hand, bringing her close to him, and planted his other hand on her hip. “Is this a good idea?” she asked, knowing the answer, knowing just as well that it wasn't going to stop them. “Terrible,” Nic answered, dropping her hand, his palm finding her cheek. “Want to stop?” Stop? How could they stop? They’d tried to avoid it—they’d talked about exactly why it was a bad idea. Looking deep into Nic’s eyes now, she could see that he still had reservations, that he still didn’t fully believe this was the right thing to do … but stop? “No.”
Title Page Newborn On Her Doorstep Ellie Darkins www.millsandboon.co.uk
About the Author ELLIE DARKINS spent her formative years devouring romance novels, and after completing her English degree she decided to make a living from her love of books. As a writer and editor her work now entails dreaming up romantic proposals, hot dates with alpha males and trips to the past with dashing heroes. When she’s not working she can usually be found at her local library or out for a run.
Dedication For Rosie and Lucy
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
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EPILOGUE
Extract
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
LILY TUCKED HER pencil behind her ear as she headed for the door. She almost had this website design finished, with a whole day to go before the client’s deadline. She was privately amazed that she’d managed to get the thing done on time, given the chaos in her house. Even now she could hear chisels and hammers and God knew what else in her kitchen, as the builders ripped out the old units ready for work on the extension to start.
The ring of the doorbell had been welcome, actually. When she’d glanced at her watch she’d realised that she’d not taken a break since settling down in her home office at six. She was overdue a cup of coffee—and no doubt the builders would appreciate one, too.
A glance through the hallway window afforded a glimpse of a taxi heading up the road, but she couldn’t see anyone waiting behind the frosted glass of the front door. Strange... she thought as she turned the key and pulled the door open.
No one there.
Kids? she wondered, but she’d lived in this house almost all of her life, and she couldn’t remember a single case of knock-door-run.
She was just about to shut the door and head back inside when a kitten-like mewl caught her attention and she glanced down.
Not a kitten.
A Moses basket was tucked into the corner of the porch, out of the spring breeze. Wrapped tight inside, with just eyes and the tip of a soft pink nose showing from the yellow blanket... A baby.
Lily dropped to her knees out of instinct, and scooped the baby up from the floor, nestling her against her shoulder. Making sure the blanket was tucked tight, she walked down to the front gate, looking left and right for any sign of someone who might have just left a baby on her doorstep.
Nothing.
She moved the baby into the crook of her arm as she tried to think, her brain struggling to catch up with this sudden appearance. And as she moved the baby she heard a papery crackle. When she pulled the corner of the blanket aside she found a scribbled note on a page torn from a notebook. The writing was as familiar as her own, and unmistakable.
Please look after her.
Which left all the questions she already had unanswered and asked a million more.
She walked again to the gate, wondering if she could still catch sight of that taxi—if she had time to run and stop her half-sister before she did something irreversible. But as much as she strained her eyes, the car was gone.
She stood paralysed with shock for a moment on the front path, unsure whether to run for help or to take the baby inside. What sort of trouble would her half-sister have to be in to do this? Was she leaving her here forever? Or was she going to turn up in a few minutes and explain?
For the first time Lily took a deep breath, looked down into the clear blue eyes of her little niece—and fell instantly in love.
* * *
His feet pounded the footpath hard, driving out thought, emotion, reason. All he knew was the rhythm of his shoes on the ground, the steady in-out of his breath as he let his legs and his lungs settle in to their pace.
The sun was drying the dew on the grassy verges by the road, and the last few commuters were making their way into the tube station. The morning commute was a small price to pay to live in this quiet, leafy part of London, he guessed.
He noted these things objectively, as he did the admiring looks from a couple of women he passed. But none of it mattered to him. This was the one time of the day when he could just concentrate on something he was completely in control of. So, no music, no stopping for admiring glances—just him and the road. Nothing could spoil the hour he spent shutting out the horrors of the world—great and small—that he had encountered in his work over the years.
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