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The Ultimate Romance Box (6 Bestselling Romance Novels)

Page 22

by Eckhart, Lorhainne


  “No. Protective. She knew how much a baby meant to him, and it was her dearest wish to make him happy.” Tears gathered and a sob broke down Sheri’s restraint. “Now see what you’ve gone and done. You’ve made me cry. I hate crying.”

  His eyes widened. “Please don’t….”

  Wails, building in volume and coming from the direction of the bedroom, signalled the babies were in sync with their tearful mother. “You’d better leave. They’re awake, and I have to go to them.” When he hesitated, she added. “Miguel, I can’t handle any more stress right now. Please!”

  He left but not before stating firmly, “I’ll return tomorrow to visit my niece and nephew when you’re more rational. We’ll talk then.”

  She nodded and then looked away until she heard the door close behind him. He could talk all he wanted. There was no way in hell she’d give her babies to him, or anyone for that matter.

  She tiptoed into the nursery then watched as her son and daughter gooed and waved at each other. It still mystified her how she’d ever thought she could give them up. Even to Mary-Anne who’d been her favorite person most of her life. She guessed a woman never truly understood the intensity of maternal love until she held her child close to her heart.

  Her daughter, Carrie-Anne, stretched and started to half crawl, half roll to get closer to her brother, Rafael, who watched her with interest. His motor skills were behind his sister’s, and he had far less energy. As if she sensed his weakness, Carrie-Anne watched over him constantly, and cried when she lost sight of her twin.

  As quiet as Sheri had been, Carrie-Anne nevertheless noticed her mother hovering nearby. With joy filling her pretty baby face, and features that resembled her mother’s, Carrie-Anne’s arms went up.

  Rafael, watching his sister’s actions, looked over and also smiled his welcome. Sheri’s breath caught. Both babies had inherited the smoky gray eyes from their father’s side, but where her daughter looked more like Sheri, her son was the spitting image of his Uncle Miguel.

  Chapter Four

  Later, after Sheri had dealt with the needs of the twins, she felt like a zombie. Her thoughts resembled a pinball game, ricocheting between maybes and what ifs. Sleeping seemed to be the only way to shut them off. She tried to nap, but her crazy mind was too wide-awake and full of the man who’d spun her secure world off its axis. The strongest memory, insidious, unshakable, was Miguel soothing her, touching her. The more she tried to stop thinking about him, the more his image returned.

  When the doorbell rang, spasms of delight and fear sparred in her belly. This time she checked the peephole, and unexpected disappointment followed as she spied her friend slouching in the hallway.

  “Hi, Charly. Come on in.” She turned to go into the living room with her friend close on her heels. Seeing Charly scan the area, she grinned. “I just got them settled, hopefully for the night. I’m whacked.” The random disorder of baby trappings were scattered from one end of the place to the other.

  Charly, a slender redhead full of nervous energy, plopped down in the sofa, while Sheri gave up her favorite chair to sit close. “Damn. I wanted to play with them. How’s the little guy? Has his fever gone down?” Charly’s raspy tone revealed such yearning.

  Sheri grinned and reached over to pull on one of her friend’s spiked locks. “What a softie you are. He seems to be better today. This morning, I’d pretty well made up my mind to damn the consequences, take the hit to my budget and make a doctor’s appointment if he woke up still congested.”

  Charly snorted and cut her off. “Hey, you know I’d help out with a loan.” Aware that Charly knew better than to offer money without the loan stipulation, Sheri realized that pride could be her downfall. So far, the sole handout she would accept was the physical labour kind. Babysitting the twins to give her time to shop or go to the gym, watching them while she caught up on her sleep, those favors she’d take in a DC minute.

  Sheri reached across and threw her arms around the muscular shoulders of a woman who worked out daily. “You’re so good to me, my friend, putting up with me. What would I ever do without you?”

  Charly patted her back, resigned to Sheri’s frequent displays of affection. “Let’s hope we never have to find out. As long as the little one is better, and you’re happy, I’ll leave you to get some sleep.” Charly studied her friend momentarily. “What did I say that put that look in your eyes?”

  “What look?”

  “Don’t go getting all girly on me. You know what look.” Sheri could see Charly sorting back though their last words to figure what might’ve made her grimace.

  “You’re not happy, Sheri. What happened? You’re not gonna go getting those baby blues again, are you? Please don’t.”

  “You mean postpartum depression.”

  “Same thing, and quit teasing. You knew what I meant.”

  Sheri giggled, and saw the instant relief spill over her friend’s face. “No, I’m not depressed. However, I am a bit worried. I had a visitor today from Chile. Felipe’s brother, Miguel, arrived and dropped a bombshell. Seems he wants to claim his brother’s babies, adopt them and take them back to Santiago. He believes they should be raised in their father’s home.”

  “Hope you told him to get stuffed.” The girl didn’t hold back when her protective instincts were challenged.

  “Not in quite those words, but yeah, he got the message. I saw the shock hit him hard when I informed him they were my eggs used in the procedure, not Mary-Anne’s. Therefore, my maternal rights are stronger than even an uncle or a grandmother.”

  “They sure are in my book.”

  “Mine too but, he doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who’ll give up easy. After her honeymoon, Mary-Anne showed me pictures and described the Rivera’s estate in Santiago. It’s rich, vast, and beautiful enough to bring tears. Also, I happen to know Miguel owns and runs the largest security company in Chile, which makes him not only extremely wealthy, but rather intimidating.”

  “No match for my girl.” Charly reached across and swept the mass of curls over Sheri’s shoulders towards the back. “The poor putz doesn’t know who he’s dealing with.”

  “I’m not all that tough, not when it comes to what’s best for the babies. Wouldn’t I be a rotten mother if I destroyed their opportunities for such a life, and in their daddy’s birthplace?”

  “Hold it. Their daddy lived here, in Washington D.C. and this is exactly where he’d planned to bring up his family. Once you receive the money due to them from Felipe’s business, you can afford a nice house in a much better neighborhood. You have right on your side, Sher. They are your children. Not to say some arrangements can’t be made to share down the road when they’re older. However, at this moment, what those two babies need more than anything else in the world is a mommy who loves them. Agreed?”

  “Agreed. Charly, I love you and your common sense. And when we get that house, I want you to move in there with us and be a part of our family.”

  “I love you guys, too. I’d move anywhere, anytime to be with you. Just a thought Sher, what about your love life? I could be in the way if you met someone and…” The look on her face stopped Charly dead.

  Sheri took her time answering. “I know you’ve never intruded or prodded me to talk about my past, and I appreciate that it would have taken a great deal of control on your part, but really, there’s very little to say.”

  “Fine. I’m not nosy. You can keep it bottled up, festering, your poor soul aching to share. Far be it from me to—”

  “Oh for heaven’s sake.” Sheri couldn’t keep the grin from bursting though. “All right already. My story is the same as hundreds of other silly women who got taken in by a womanizing snake.”

  “Scum-sucking toad!”

  “Worse. He played me for a fool and I let him. He wanted to mold me into being the perfect girlfriend, and I made myself fit the role even when I hated being so vulnerable. Back then, my father had fallen ill and most days I spent looking aft
er him. When I got the chance to get out, I’d go to the gym. Doug trained at the same facility. He played professional hockey, and let’s just say, the jerk knew how to score, both on the ice and off.”

  “Knew how to use his stick, aye?” Charly chuckled.

  “Except he got benched for hooking.” Sheri played along.

  “That’ll teach the rotten fore-checker to make a pass in the neutral zone.” Charly couldn’t stop laughing.

  “Yep, the player went offside and the game ended in a shut-out. Told him to get the puck outta there and he left.” By this time, the two friends were in near hysterics.

  Charly calmed down first. “It’s obvious you’re well over the bastard so I won’t worry. I’ll see myself out. Don’t forget to lock the chain.”

  After she left, Sheri leaned against the soft cushion and let the memories flood. Doug, the best-looking guy she’d ever met, had chosen her out of all the beautiful girls that used the same gym.

  Susceptible and untutored in the ways of men, Sheri had fallen hard for every line the slimeball came up with, and he had many. Afterwards, she could see what motivated him to settle on her, but at the time, blinded by her innocence and false illusions, she’d idolized him and he sucked it all up as his due.

  Months of living in her dream world crashed on the night she’d returned to the complex for her dirty workout clothes that needed washing. A lit room at the end of the hall drew her. Wails caught her attention, and thinking someone injured, she’d followed the sounds to the dressing room.

  Doug, her precious lover, stood with his black spandex shorts pooled at his ankles. He was screwing the panting, squirming, noisy yoga instructor against the mirrored wall. Before she’d run, Sheri’s yelp of pain must have caught his attention because he looked up in time to see her shocked face and tear-filled eyes.

  Probably expecting his doormat girlfriend to crumble, Doug, dumber than lint, tried to talk to her about forgiveness. He kept sending flowers, showing up at her front door until she had enough of his nonsense. Calling the police about a peeping tom brought them to her house in time to catch him red-handed trying to get her attention through the picture window. He’d promised to leave her alone if she dropped the charges. She hadn’t seen him since.

  Funny thing, when they’d made love she’d had to fake it, pretend. She’d never once experienced an orgasm with him or any man for that matter. Guess that made her either a great actress, or a total failure as a woman. Oh well, enough with the foolish memories.

  Sometime later, just before sleep claimed her, Sheri replayed the emotions she’d felt when, earlier that day, the most handsome man she’d ever met had held her hands and recharged her faulty libido.

  Girlfriend, you’ve got to get laid soon. If a man’s touch can spin you around like that, it’s obviously time to give sex another chance and go hunting for a new boyfriend. Yeah, and that’s going to happen with two toddlers in tow. She chuckled, sighed and shut down her visions of the South American dazzler.

  Chapter Five

  Miguel paced in his presidential suite, ignoring the beauty of its modern furnishings. He poured a drink and carried it over to the balcony where the flowing waters of the Potomac River reflected the dazzling city lights. The Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument seen in the distance were striking at night, but he paid scant attention. Instead, he rubbed his cheek first and then the back of his head as he leaned against the iron railing. Exhaustion battled with illness, and he didn’t know what made him feel worse.

  His plan to pay off the surrogate and take charge of his niece or nephew appeared foolish to him now that he’d met Sheri O’Connor. It seemed ludicrous that when he least expected or wanted it to happen, he’d finally encountered a woman with scruples. What were the odds? Most women he’d known had been mercenary hustlers. Now, when he hadn’t the energy for combat, he had a battle on his hands with a moralist, and no easy way to win.

  Miguel moved over to the glass-topped desk and picked up his cell phone. He couldn’t put off calling home any longer. His mother would be anxious to find out what he’d discovered about her grandchild. Since their return from the Colombian jungle and the information about Felipe’s death, he’d been emotionally closed off to her. The heavy load of guilt he carried made everything difficult. After all, it was Miguel’s fault she’d been away when Felipe had crashed his car, his fault that she’d missed her youngest son’s funeral.

  He’d do anything to right her world, and he thought he’d found the answer by promising to bring home her grandchild. Now he’d have to admit that the vow he’d made to her before he left Chile might have been premature even presumptuous. Money didn’t seem to cut it with the gorgeous she-devil he’d wrangled with earlier that day and he had no idea how to sway Senorita O’Connor into seeing things his way.

  “Mamacita. It’s Miguel.” That she’d answered after the first ring was not a good sign. He knew she’d be chewing his ass for making her wait.

  “Mi hijo. What took you so long? I’ve been going crazy.”

  “Sorry, my darling. Things haven’t gone quite according to plan, and I hated to tell you bad news.”

  “What happened? Didn’t you find them?”

  “Yes, of course. No trouble there. The problem is that Sheri O’Connor is not what we expected at all. She refuses to give up the babies—”

  “Babies? Twins? How wonderful. Boys or girls?”

  “One of each. They were sleeping when I arrived, and I didn’t disturb them, but I’m going back tomorrow.”

  “Oh, Miguel. Take some photos and send them on your phone. Promise me.”

  “Yes, I promise. Now Mamá, please don’t get too upset, or you’ll have a relapse. At this moment, the surrogate isn’t willing to let me adopt them. In fact, she was adamant that they were her children, and would be staying with her. Since they were her eggs used in the fertilization treatments, she is their legal mother, and has a much stronger claim then we do.”

  “Oh no. I so wanted…” She faded, but he distinctly heard a cuss word whispered that she’d only ever use under intense duress. When she began to talk again, her voice had hardened. “Look, do whatever it takes, Miguel. Explain how her government called you to come back to active service, and go on a mission to Colombia to release their political hostages. How you were beaten and starved and thought dead, and how because of those beatings, her children will be the last possible heirs to the Rivera estates—” The harshness in her tone gave over to threatening sniffles.

  Miguel felt the hardness melt around the heart only his mother could soften. “You know the only reason I accepted the job was to release Nick from the hostages. If the son of papá’s oldest friend hadn’t been part of the equation, I would never have left home.”

  “True. Nicholas is alive today because of your bravery. But look what you’ve lost.”

  An ache built inside and he tensed. Rigid with pain, he tried not to let it show in his voice. “What? What did I lose, really? A fiancé who wouldn’t wait long enough for me to be switched from the MIA files to the Dead files before she married another man. No doubt, now that we know Margarita’s true nature, I’d have been dealing with a miserable divorce down the road.”

  A harsh sigh sounded over the long-distance. “Oh, Miguel. If she’d just trusted me and waited for you to return. I told her you weren’t dead. I swore to her I’d have known, but your fiancé preferred to believe those stupid government officials.”

  “Mamacita, calm yourself. I don’t care about the idiot girl. She’s married to someone else. Truth to tell, I consider myself lucky she didn’t get the gold band from me.”

  “True, Miguel. Thank goodness the little gold-digger held out for a fancy diamond solitaire and wouldn’t wear the family antique ring, or no doubt, she would have pawned that one also.”

  Miguel winced. That solitaire had cost him plenty. Unknown to his mother, he’d never given Margarita the chance to turn down the family ring. He’d understood that it
wouldn’t suit her or maybe deep inside he’d sensed that she wasn’t fit to wear it.

  Miguel heard his mother blowing her nose, and his stomach muscles clenched. He hated knowing that his disastrous news was the cause of her unhappiness. She’d had so much to deal with over these past months.

  First, he’d gone missing and was presumed dead. Then, for weeks she’d relentlessly harassed the American military officials, trying to convince them that he lived. Finally, putting together a team of men from his very own security company, she’d led the attack and freed him herself. To make matters worse, just when they’d believed their escape had succeeded, their helicopter had been shot down, and she’d taken a stray bullet.

  As the only two survivors, it took them months to crawl out of the gruelling, brutal jungle, to be free from the oversized relentless insects, the disgusting mire, and the pummelling pain. They’d hidden during the day from their pursuers, and he’d carried her most nights, all the while searching for food and certain plants to keep that damn insidious infection from taking her life.

  The day they’d stumbled upon the villagers, who in the end had gotten them to freedom, they were half dead. Their future plans had been the fuel driving them to keep going. Miguel had looked forward to his reunion with his beautiful fiancé, and his mother couldn’t wait to see her younger son, Felipe, with his new baby.

  When their plane touched down on the tarmac, the first sight of Chile had brought tears of relief and happiness. Then the horrific news of Felipe and Mary-Anne’s death destroyed the small improvement in Andrea’s health and it was only the thought of her grandchild that had kept the distraught woman from total collapse. The possibility that they could bring that child home had kept her sane.

  Her next words reclaimed Miguel’s wandering thoughts. “Felipe’s offspring have the right to their inheritance. It’s what their Papá would have wanted under the circumstances. Sheri must be made to understand that the estates are extensive and require this new generation to be caretakers. Tell her, Miguel. Be firm when you’re talking with her, not bossy, but firm, and my son, be…be nice.” Her tearful entreaties forced him to take a deep breath before he answered.

 

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