Yvonne Lindsay - The Child They Didn't Expect

She was settling into the rocker with Joshua. The night-light bathed her in gold. Her tumbled curls, the shadows of her curves beneath her nightgown. His body reacted, his senses coming to swift attention. She shouldn’t be having this effect on him, yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“I’ll take him. Go back to bed.” His tongue thickened on the words. Back to bed. They opened a floodgate of memories of what they’d shared. Of what he wanted to share with her again.

She looked up at him, and saw what he knew was reflected in his eyes. Hunger. Desire. Need.

A little voice in the back of his mind urged him to draw her into his arms, against his aching body. To do with her all those things his flesh clamored for.

Would he listen?

* * *

The Child They Didn’t Expectis part of the No.1 bestselling series from Mills & Boon ®Desire™—Billionaires & Babies: Powerful men … wrapped around their babies’ little fingers.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

New Zealand born, to Dutch immigrant parents, YVONNE LINDSAYbecame an avid romance reader at the age of thirteen. Now married to her “blind date” and with two fabulous children, she remains a firm believer in the power of romance. Yvonne feels privileged to be able to bring to her readers the stories of her heart. In her spare time, when not writing, she can be found with her nose firmly in a book, reliving the power of love in all walks of life. She can be contacted via her website, www.yvonnelindsay.com.

I’m always very grateful to the generous hearts and minds that help me with the finer details of my books and this one is no different. This book I dedicate to Ashwini Singh with sincere thanks. Any errors relating to newborn intensive care are completely my own.

Contents

Cover

Excerpt The sight of Ali with a baby in her arms stopped him cold. She was settling into the rocker with Joshua. The night-light bathed her in gold. Her tumbled curls, the shadows of her curves beneath her nightgown. His body reacted, his senses coming to swift attention. She shouldn’t be having this effect on him, yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away. “I’ll take him. Go back to bed.” His tongue thickened on the words. Back to bed. They opened a floodgate of memories of what they’d shared. Of what he wanted to share with her again. She looked up at him, and saw what he knew was reflected in his eyes. Hunger. Desire. Need. A little voice in the back of his mind urged him to draw her into his arms, against his aching body. To do with her all those things his flesh clamored for. Would he listen? * * * The Child They Didn’t Expect is part of the No.1 bestselling series from Mills & Boon ® Desire™—Billionaires & Babies: Powerful men … wrapped around their babies’ little fingers.

Title Page The Child They Didn’t Expect Yvonne Lindsay www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author New Zealand born, to Dutch immigrant parents, YVONNE LINDSAY became an avid romance reader at the age of thirteen. Now married to her “blind date” and with two fabulous children, she remains a firm believer in the power of romance. Yvonne feels privileged to be able to bring to her readers the stories of her heart. In her spare time, when not writing, she can be found with her nose firmly in a book, reliving the power of love in all walks of life. She can be contacted via her website, www.yvonnelindsay.com .

Dedication I’m always very grateful to the generous hearts and minds that help me with the finer details of my books and this one is no different. This book I dedicate to Ashwini Singh with sincere thanks. Any errors relating to newborn intensive care are completely my own.

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Extract

Copyright

One

Ronin lay wide awake in the darkness, his body sated and relaxed, yet hyperaware of the woman sleeping in his arms—of the softness of her curves pressed against his skin, of the sound of her gentle rhythmic breathing. Her lush dark brown hair tickled his sensitized flesh but he didn’t want to move from this place, lost as he still was in the intensity of their lovemaking.

He didn’t do one-night stands. Not ever. Well, not until tonight. But there had been something about this woman—a fellow New Zealander—that had struck him from the moment he’d brushed past her in the beachfront restaurant of their hotel complex. An instant responsiveness he had never experienced before had stirred in him. Something that saw him agree to the restaurant hostess’s suggestion that Ali join him at his reserved table after she was turned away due to overbooking.

The same something that had seen them go on to dancing after dinner, and then to a walk on the moonlit sands of Waikiki Beach. And finally, they had made love in her hotel room with a spontaneity and passion he’d never permitted himself to indulge in before.

His friends would be shocked if they ever heard that he—the king of all that was analytical and organized—had fallen into bed with a virtual stranger, purely based on feelings and the impulse of the moment. It wasn’t his way, not at all. It flew in direct contrast to his talent for deductive reasoning, to his clinical efficiency in being able to take a problem apart and put it back together, to his ability to fix all things falling apart through logic and rationality. There had been nothing logical or rational about the night he had spent with this woman. And yet, it had been...magical. Yes, that was the only word he could think of to describe it—a word too ephemeral for his charts and numbers world.

Ali sighed and turned on her side, shifting away from him. He was about to reach for her, to pull her back and wake her so they could build on what they’d already savored together, when the discreet but persistent buzz of his cell phone from the pocket of his trousers, somewhere on the floor, dragged his attention away.

He flicked a glance at the time on the digital display across the room as he felt around for his trousers in the dark. 5:10 a.m. It definitely wouldn’t be his client here in Waikiki who was calling. That only left home—New Zealand. His mind swiftly made the calculation. That would make it 4:10 a.m. tomorrow there, which was hardly a typical time for anyone to call. It was either a wrong number...or an emergency. He swept the phone into his hand, identifying his father’s photo and number on the screen, and moved quickly to the hotel room bathroom.

Pulling the door closed behind him, he answered the phone. His father’s anguished voice filled his ear.

“Dad, Dad, slow down. I can barely understand you.”

“It’s CeeCee, Ronin. She’s dead. And R.J., too.”

The horrifying words came through loud and clear. An icy cold sensation flooded through his veins. Surely this was some kind of nightmare. His beautiful and vibrant baby sister—dead? It couldn’t be true. She’d been the picture of good health, blooming in late pregnancy, when he’d left home three days before. Ronin’s brother-in-law had teased him about potentially missing the birth of his first niece or nephew because he’d been called to troubleshoot for an overseas client, yet again.

“How, Dad? When?” Shock made his lips stiff and uncooperative as he tried to form the words. “Tell me what happened.”

“She went into labor. R.J. was driving her to the birthing unit. A drunk driver went through a red light. He hit them broadside, pushed them into a pole. They didn’t stand a chance.”