‘Did I hurt you?’ The anxiety in her voice made him smile because it was so totally misplaced.
‘Nope. I’d just prefer it if you kissed me with a bit more enthusiasm, shall we say?’
She chuckled as she glanced over her shoulder. ‘I shall once we dispense with our audience.’
Ewan peered past her and only then realised that his parents were standing outside the glass wall of the cubicle. That they had heard what he’d said was only too apparent from the expression on his mother’s face. Ewan bit back a chuckle as he promised himself that when Millie grew up, he would accept that she was an adult and had needs.
The fact that he was picturing himself playing a major role in Millie’s future suddenly filled him with doubts. What if Becky didn’t agree? What if she still insisted that they had to split up? He had to make her understand how wrong it would be. He needed her. She needed him. And they both needed Millie.
‘I don’t want us to part, Becky,’ he said urgently. ‘I understand why you think it’s the right thing to do but I can’t bear it.’
‘I don’t want it either, so long as you’re sure, Ewan.’ She looked into his eyes, searching for the truth, and smiled when she found it. ‘Thank you. That you’re willing to give up so much for me makes me realise how lucky I am.’
‘I’m the lucky one. I get to have you and Millie in my life long term.’ He smiled back, unashamed of the tears in his eyes. ‘I love you both. You’re my heart, my soul and my family.’
They kissed then, not the light touch of lips their audience expected but a kiss of passion and commitment, of promise and desire. Ewan felt Becky’s lips on his and could feel the strength flowing back into his body. Becky had done this. She had given him the best reason in the world to get better. She had promised him herself and her love, and her daughter. He had to be the luckiest man alive.
Two years later...
‘It’s a boy! Here you go, mum. Meet your new son.’
Becky felt her heart overflow with happiness as she took the towel-wrapped bundle from the midwife. She stared down at the tiny, puckered face in wonder. The baby had Ewan’s nose and his eyes. His hair was dark like Ewan’s too and she knew it would stay that way. This little chap was going to be the image of his father when he grew up.
‘I can’t believe how much he looks like you.’ Ewan gently parted the folds of towel and stared at his son in amazement. ‘He’s the image of you, Becky!’
Becky laughed. ‘I was just thinking how much he favoured you. Look at his eyes and the shape of his nose. If that’s not a MacLeod nose, I don’t know what is!’
‘I see we shall have to agree to differ.’ Ewan hugged her. ‘Well, whomever he favours, he’s gorgeous and I can’t wait to show him off to everyone.’
‘Neither can I. I just want to thank Shona again for all she’s done.’
‘Me too.’
They went over to the bed. All three of Ewan’s sisters had offered to act as a surrogate for them but in the end Shona had won. She and her family had moved back to Devon, so that had made the process a lot simpler. Becky’s eggs had been fertilised by Ewan’s sperm and Shona had, as she put it, acted as the incubator. Amazingly, it had taken just one attempt for her to get pregnant and they were holding the result in their arms. Becky bent and kissed her sister-in-law on the cheek.
‘Thank you from the very bottom of my heart. I can’t tell you what this means to us.’
‘I think I can guess.’ Shona smiled as she held her husband’s hand tightly. He’d been behind her every step of the way, which had made it feel even more right. ‘Now go and show off your new son to his adoring fans. There’ll be a riot out there if they don’t get a glimpse of him soon!’
Becky laughed as she followed Ewan to the delivery room door. They were all there, waiting to meet the new arrival: her family, her mother holding tight to Millie’s hand; her father and brother, both looking uncharacteristically anxious; Ewan’s family, complete with various nieces and nephews. Tom and Hannah had brought along the latest addition to their family, six-week-old Olivia, as well as Charlie, while Ben, Emily and Theo had flown over from France especially for this moment. Turning so that they could all see the precious little bundle she held, Becky said the words she had never thought she would be able to say.
‘We would like you all to meet James Ewan MacLeod. Our son.’
* * * * *
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ISBN: 9781460316313
Copyright © 2013 by Jennifer Taylor
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The Rebel Who Loved Her Page 16