A Baby for Christmas by Anne McAllister

Author:Anne McAllister [McAllister, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Contemporary, Romance, Fiction, Contemporary Romance
ISBN: 9781460878156
Google: p2nNkmxeWREC
Barnesnoble:
Publisher: Mills & Boon Sexy
Published: 2012-07-01T20:55:16.011255+00:00

Carly had been up with Arthur for over two hours when Piran emerged the next morning shortly after nine. He didn’t look very cheerful. Nor did he look especially rested. His cheeks were stubbled with a day’s growth of dark whiskers, his eyes were bleary and bloodshot, his hair spiky and uncombed.

Carly wasn’t sure that that was all bad. In fact, she thought that if it meant he had lain awake considering the implications of fatherhood and resolving to face them it might be all to the good.

She watched him warily, waiting to take her cue from some sign from him.

He gave her a bleak look and then walked right past where she sat with the baby on the sofa, without even a ‘good morning’ to her or a glance at Arthur, straight to the coffee maker, and added enough water and coffee for a full ten-cup pot.

He stood with his back to her, bracing his hands on the counter and staring down at the pot while he waited for it to heat.

So much for becoming resolved to fatherhood.

Carly regarded him with increasing irritation. She stuck out her tongue at his back, then turned her gaze once more to the chapter she was trying to read with Arthur’s help.

She noted but didn’t look up when Piran left the coffee maker, walked over to the door and stood brooding, staring out into the jungle-like surroundings. She saw but didn’t comment when he rubbed his hands through his already mussed hair then stalked back to the coffee maker to scowl down at it and drum his fingers on the counter. She kept her eyes focused on either the chapter or the baby.

When the coffee was ready at last, Piran poured himself a cup without offering her one.

Surprise, surprise, she thought, and nailed him with a glare, then turned back to the baby before he looked up.

He turned, but didn’t move to take a chair. Instead he leaned against the counter, staring morosely into the mug that he held against his chest. He sipped once, sighed, then sipped again.

‘I don’t know what I’m going to do.’

His words dropped like stones into the silence of the room.

Carly looked up to see a desolate look on his face that made her want to go to him and comfort him, reassure him, tell him that everything would be all right.

She didn’t do it. After everything that had passed between them she knew exactly how he’d interpret any move toward him on her part. He wouldn’t call it reassurance.

Besides, even if it had been in her best interests to reassure him, she couldn’t.

She didn’t know if everything would be all right.

Looking at the situation honestly meant admitting that there was very little chance that it would be—at least, not in the near future.

Not for him—and not for Arthur.

And for the missing mother, Miss Pastel Envelopes?

Carly didn’t want to think about her. She shook her head and looked down at the chapter she’d been reading. Yesterday morning just getting the book into shape had seemed an all-consuming task.

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