Sue MacKay - The Midwife's Son

Praise for Sue MacKay:

‘An emotional drama full of powerful feelings and emotions. An immensely satisfying read on all counts—a wonderfully human story which will leave the reader moved. I look forward to reading more books by this author in the future.’

— Contemporary Romance Reviews on THE GIFT OF A CHILD

‘The first book in this duet, THE GIFT OF A CHILD by Sue MacKay, is a deeply emotional, heart-rending story that will make you smile and make you cry.

I truly recommend it—and don’t miss the second book: the story about Max.’

— HarlequinJunkie.com

‘What a great book. I loved it. I did not want it to end.

This is one book not to miss.’

— GoodReads.com on THE GIFT OF A CHILD

The Midwife’s Son

Sue MacKay

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dedication

Thanks very much to Kate Vida for her medical help.

Any mistakes are mine.

And to Deidre and Angela, because I can.

Contents

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 ONE

JESSICA BAXTER STARED at the champagne glass twirling between her thumb and forefinger. It was empty. Again. How had that happened? Best fill it up. She reached for the bottle nestled in ice in the silver bucket beside her.

‘You planning on drinking that whole bottle all by yourself?’ The groomsman sat down beside her, his steady green gaze fixed on her. Eyes so similar to his sister Sasha’s, yet far more dramatic. The way they were sizing her up at this moment sent shivers of anticipation through her. But it was more likely she had whipped cream and strawberry compote on her nose rather than anything earth-shatteringly sensual going on.

Her finger shook as she wiped the top of her nose. Nope. All clear of dessert. So what was fascinating Jackson Wilson so much that his head seemed to have locked into position and his eyes forgotten how to move? Maybe if she answered him he’d get moving again.

So she told him, ‘Yes.’ Every last drop.

‘Then I’ll have to get my own bottle. Shame to have to move, though.’ Jackson smiled at her, long and slow, making her feel as though she was the only person in the marquee. The only woman at least.

Which was blatantly untrue. Apart from Sasha, who was looking absolutely fabulous in a cream silk wedding gown, there had to be half the female population of Golden Bay in this marquee. Hadn’t Sasha said she wanted a small wedding? Define small. Jess looked at the bottle in her hand. Had she drunk too much? Not yet. ‘This has to be the best champagne I’ve ever tasted. Your father went all out.’

‘Can’t argue with that.’

She wasn’t looking for an argument. Her mouth curved upwards. Just some more champagne. The bubbles sped to the surface as she refilled her glass. The sight was enough to turn a girl on. If you were the kind that got turned on easily. Which she definitely wasn’t. Her eyes cruised sideways, spied Jackson’s legs stretched far under the table, and stilled. Well-toned thighs shaped his black evening trousers to perfection. Her tongue stuck to the top of her mouth, her skin warmed, and somewhere below her waist she felt long-forgotten sensations of desire. Maybe she was that kind of girl after all.

She lifted the bottle in Jackson’s direction. ‘Got a glass?’

‘Of course.’ He presented one with a flourish. ‘I never go unprepared.’ That gaze had returned, stuck on her, apparently taking in every detail of her face.

She paused halfway through filling his glass, raising a well-styled eyebrow. ‘Has my mascara run or something?’

Jackson shook his head. ‘Nope.’

Spinach in my teeth? Except spinach hadn’t featured on the wedding dinner menu. So what was he looking at? Looking for? Jackson Wilson had never taken much notice of her before. They hadn’t even liked each other much during the two years she had gone to school here; both had been too busy trying to steal the limelight.

The last time she’d seen him had been at their school graduation party. Thirteen years ago. He’d been the guy every girl had wanted to date. She’d been the girl everybody had invited to their parties because she could supply anything money could buy. They’d never hooked up.

‘Hey, stop.’ He said it quietly, in that bone-melting voice of his. ‘My glass runneth over.’

‘What?’ Eek. Bad move. She’d been so distracted she’d started pouring again without realising. So unlike her. Worse, he knew exactly what she was distracted by—him. Suck it up, and get over him. He’s a minor diversion.

Jackson raised his fingers to his mouth and lapped up the champagne. Had he heard her telling herself to suck it up? She shivered deliciously. The gesture was done so naturally that she had to presume Jackson hadn’t meant it as a sexual come-on. But, then, why would it be? She’d be the last female on earth he’d come on to. They probably still wouldn’t get on very well; she was a solo mum, he was used to glamorous, sexy ladies who didn’t sport stretch marks on their tummies.

Wait up. He’d only been back in Golden Bay for five days and before today she’d only seen him at the wedding rehearsal. She might have that completely wrong. She was open to having her opinion changed. He didn’t look so full of himself any more. No, rather world-weary and sad, if anything.

Then Jackson seemed to shake himself and sit up straighter. Lifting his glass carefully, he sipped until the level dropped to a safe place, before clinking the rim of the glass with hers. ‘To the happy couple.’

‘To Sasha and Grady.’ She should be looking for her friends as they danced on the temporary floor in the centre of the marquee, but for the life of her she couldn’t drag her attention away from Jackson. When had he got so handsome? Like so handsome she wanted to strip him naked. Back at school, she’d never been as enthralled as all the other girls, but maybe she’d missed something. His body was tall and lean. His face had a chiselled look, a strong jawline and the most disconcerting eyes that seemed to see everything while giving nothing away.

‘Has my mascara run?’ he quipped.

Her face blazed. Caught. Why was that any different from him scrutinising her? It wasn’t, but she never normally took the time to look a guy over so thoroughly. She usually wasn’t interested. ‘Yes.’

‘Wonderful. My macho image is shattered.’ His deep chuckle caught her off balance.

That made her study him even closer. There were deep lines on either side of that delectable mouth. More of them at the corners of those eyes that remained fixed on her. What had caused those lines? To avoid getting caught in his gaze she glanced at his hair, dark brown with a few light strands showing in the overhead lights. Grey, yet not grey. She glanced back to those eyes. ‘You look exhausted.’

Jackson blinked, tipped his head back to stare at the top of the marquee. His mouth had tightened, instantly making Jessica regret her words. There was no way she wanted to upset him; she didn’t want him to think she was probing, being nosey. ‘Sorry. I take that back.’ She sipped her champagne, the glass unexpectedly trembling in her hand.

‘I am totally beat.’

Phew. Still talking. ‘Jet-lag?’ She supposed it was a longish haul from Hong Kong.

‘Nah. Life.’ His hand groped on the tabletop for his drink.

‘Here.’ She pushed it into his fingers.

‘Thanks.’ Sitting straighter, he took a deep taste of the nectar. ‘You’re right. This is superb.’

Again she wondered what hiccups there had been in his life to make him look so shattered. From what she knew, he worked as an emergency specialist in a huge hospital in Hong Kong. That would keep him busy, but many specialists put in the long hours and didn’t end up looking as jaded as Jackson did right now. He’d be earning big money and no doubt had a fancy apartment and housekeeper, along with the to-die-for car and a string of women to ride alongside him. Maybe one of those women had caused a ripple in his otherwise perfect life? ‘Why Hong Kong?’