by Metsy Hingle
“And cookies?”
“And cookies, you little rascal,” she agreed. Laughing, she pulled him to his feet, dusted off the snow from his pants and swung him up into her arms.
She had no sooner freed Jack of his mittens, hat and coat and got him quieted in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. “Be right there,” she called out.
When Jack started to get up and race for the door. Liza caught him instead. “Oh, no you don’t, buster. Mommy will answer it. You stay here and finish your milk. I’ll be right back.”
Satisfied that her son would stay put, Liza hurried to the front of the house and pulled open the door. Her heart stopped, then started again.
Jacques stood in the doorway, his arms overflowing with brightly wrapped packages, a Santa Claus hat on his head. But it was his eyes, golden and bright, filled with hesitation and hope, that kept Liza riveted and her tongue glued to the roof of her mouth. She couldn’t believe he was here, that she wasn’t imagining him standing there.
“Say something, Liza,” he said, and she realized the hesitation she’d detected in his eyes was because of her.
“I didn’t think you would come back,” she finally managed to say.
“I could not stay away. I do not want to be alone anymore, Liza. I do not want to be the man my father was. And I do not want my life to end as his did—alone and in darkness. With no love or light in my life.”
“What is it you want from me, Jacques?” she asked, her heart thundering with hope.
“I had a good friend remind me that Christmas is a time for families. You are my family, Liza. You and Jack. I love you. I am hoping it is not too late. That you will give me a chance to prove it to both of you.”
“What about the darkness, Jacques? What about the bad seed you believe is inside you?”
“It is still there. I suspect it will always be there inside me. Just as I suspect I will always have the dark temper. But I know now that there is also light inside me, in my heart. You and Jack are my light, Liza. I am not afraid to fight the darkness—not as long as I have you and your love to help me. Do you...can you possibly still love me?”
“Oh, Jacques. I’ve always loved you. I always will.”
Jacques dropped the packages onto the floor and opened his arms. Liza went into them, and when he kissed her, her heart nearly burst with joy.
“There is a package here,” Jacques told her between kisses. Not letting her go, he stooped down and rummaged through the bright boxes. He picked out a small one in silver paper with a beautiful red bow. He handed it to Liza.
“But it’s not Christmas yet,” she protested.
“I know, but open it, anyway.”
With trembling fingers Liza ripped open the package and stared at the ring. An emerald-cut diamond, set in a band of gold.
“It is an engagement ring. I have the wedding band that matches it in my pocket. I love you, Liza. Please say you will marry me.”
Liza threw her arms around his neck again.
“Is that a yes?” he asked, but his mouth was already curving in a wicked smile.
“You know it is.” Holding out her hand, she allowed Jacques to slip the ring on her finger and then kissed him again.
“Santa Claus!” Jack exclaimed from the doorway. His eyes were wide, his little mouth agape.
Liza looked from her son to Jacques and burst into laughter at his shocked expression. Oh, life was good, and this Christmas was going to be such a beautiful one, she thought.
Jack rushed over to Jacques as quickly as his little legs would take him. He tugged on his father’s pants leg. “Up, up,” he demanded.
And as Jacques lifted their son into his arms, Liza knew that Jacques had beaten the darkness. There could never be darkness as long as there was love.
ISBN : 978-1-4592-7143-2
LOVECHILD
Copyright © 1997 by Metsy Hingle
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in put in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name a names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and TM are trademarks of Harlequin Books S.A., used under license. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.