Название | Her Christmas Wedding Wish |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Judy Christenberry |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Mills & Boon Cherish |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474015905 |
Mistletoe!
For her entire stay she’d managed to steer clear of Richard. Till now. Molly’s eyes followed his glance up to the mistletoe in the doorway and she knew she’d been caught.
Before she could move away, Richard kissed her. It wasn’t a friendly peck. No, his kiss was skillful and deep, unlike any she’d experienced. His arms were like iron around her, his aftershave like a love potion drawing her in….
Dangerous, screamed an inner voice, breaking the trance.
Molly pulled back, stuttered out a breathy “G-Good night” and bolted up the stairs as if a bogeyman was after her.
But no bogeyman kissed like Richard Anderson….
JUDY CHRISTENBERRY
This is Judy’s 75th book!
Step into a world where family counts, men are strong and true to their word—and where romance always wins the day!
Judy’s stories are guaranteed to make you feel good!
Judy Christenberry delivers:
“A hero every woman will want, blended with…remarkable storytelling.”
—Romantic Times BOOKclub
Her Christmas Wedding Wish
Judy Christenberry
MILLS & BOON
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Judy Christenberry has been writing romances for fifteen years because she loves happy endings as much as her readers do. A former French teacher, Judy now devotes herself to writing full-time. She hopes readers have as much fun reading her stories as she does writing them. She spends her spare time reading, watching her favorite sports teams and keeping track of her two daughters. Judy’s a native Texan, but now lives in Arizona.
Judy’s next heartwarming romance in our brand-new WESTERN WEDDINGS series,
Rancher and Protector
Only from Harlequin Romance®
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
MOLLY SODERLING hurried back down the hall to the one patient who had been on her mind all through her break. Toby Astin. The eight-year-old had also found his way into her heart, ever since he’d come into the hospital three days ago, the victim of a car crash. The same crash that had killed his parents and two other adults, and had left the boy an orphan. Less than a month before Christmas.
Molly’s heart ached for him. She knew exactly what he was feeling, as she, too, had lost her parents when she was a young child. She remembered how lonely she was the first Christmas without them, and every one since then.
In Toby’s eyes she saw the loss he suffered; in his clinging arms she felt his pain. In the three days he’d been here, no one had come for him. Perhaps after the funerals someone would claim him. She didn’t want Toby to be put into the foster care system as she had been.
As she turned down the pediatric wing, she saw two people clad in black enter his room. Perhaps they were mourners who’d attended the funeral for his parents today. According to his doctor, Toby’s uncle and grandmother had phoned to ask for Toby to attend, but Dr. Bradford had refused.
He was concerned the boy might suffer depression.
Molly had disagreed with the doctor, but he wasn’t going to listen to her. Having had to attend her parents’ funeral when she was seven, she knew how comforting it had been to see others mourning their deaths also.
Molly sighed. Then, forcing a smile on her face, she turned into Toby’s room.
“Molly!” he cried as if she were a lifesaver.
“Hi, Toby. Did you eat your dinner?”
“Yes, but—”
“Are you his nurse?” the man in the black suit asked abruptly, stepping toward her. He looked about thirty, with dark hair and striking blue eyes.
“I’m one of Toby’s nurses.”
“He seems extraordinarily attached to you.”
Was it condemnation she heard in his voice? Her shoulders stiffened. “We’ve become friends,” she said tersely.
Then she turned her attention to Toby. “Can I get you anything, honey?”
“I’d like some ice cream,” he said hesitantly, shooting a look at the man as if he would object.
“Sure. I’ll be right back with it.”
She passed the older woman dressed in a black designer suit, leaning against the wall. She wasn’t sure who the elegant-looking woman was. Maybe a family friend or maybe even the grandmother she’d heard mentioned. But no, she wasn’t acting like a grandmother, at least none Molly had ever imagined.
“Excuse me, Ms. Soderling,” the man called.
How did he know her name? Molly turned around. “Yes, sir?”
“We’re taking Toby with us in the morning.”