Yuletide Baby Surprise. Catherine Mann

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      In this Billionaires & Babies novel, USA TODAY bestselling author Catherine Mann gives new meaning to the words “Merry Christmas, Baby”

      ’Tis the season to be jolly? It isn’t for Dr. Rowan Boothe when a princess on the run from the photo-hungry press invades his hotel room. He and Mariama Mandara had their professional clashes in the past, and Rowan has no desire to become involved in her latest predicament—until they discover an abandoned baby. Now he needs Mari’s help and soon discovers she’s no pampered royal but a desirable woman. Yet how long can their Christmas escape really last?

      “Do you really think people are going to believe we went from professional adversaries to lovers in a heartbeat?”

      “Lovers, huh? I like the sound of that.”

      “This isn’t a plan.” Mariama pulled free, inching her chair back. “It’s insanity.”

      “It’s a plan that will work. Everyone will want to hear more about the aloof princess finding romance and playing Good Samaritan at Christmastime.”

      Her eyes went wide with panic, but she stayed in her seat. She wasn’t running. Yet.

      Rowan shoved to his feet. “Time for bed.”

      “Bed?” she squeaked, standing, as well.

      He could see in her eyes that she’d envisioned them sharing a bed before this moment. And it gave him a surge of victory.

      * * *

      Yuletide Baby Surprise is a Billionaires and Babies novel:

      Powerful men…wrapped around

      their babies’ little fingers

      Dear Reader,

      I love to write baby stories because, well, I love babies! As a mother of four, I savored each child’s precious milestones, moments that flew by in a flurry of years. I’ve enjoyed drawing on those experiences to create the little ones in my stories.

      Writing this book with a baby, however, marked a very special milestone in my life. I started this book shortly before the birth of my first grandchild and finished writing Yuletide Baby Surprise as we celebrated Christmas with a visit from our granddaughter. Needless to say, it was our best Christmas ever!

      May the joy of the season be with each of you as you savor making memories with those dearest to you!

      Happy Holidays,

      Cathy

      Website: catherinemann.com Facebook: www.facebook.com/CatherineMannAuthor Twitter: twitter.com/#!/CatherineMann1 Pinterest: pinterest.com/catherinemann/

      Yuletide Baby Surprise

      Catherine Mann

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      USA TODAY bestselling author CATHERINE MANN lives on a sunny Florida beach with her flyboy husband and their four children. With more than forty books in print in over twenty countries, she has also celebrated wins for both a RITA^® Award and a Booksellers’ Best Award. Catherine enjoys chatting with readers online—thanks to the wonders of the internet, which allows her to network with her laptop by the water! Contact Catherine through her website, www.catherinemann.com, find her on Facebook and Twitter (@CatherineMann1) or reach her by snail mail at PO Box 6065, Navarre, FL 32566, USA.

      To Savannah

      Contents

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

      One

      Dr. Mariama Mandara had always been the last picked for a team in gym class. With good reason. Athletics? Not her thing. But when it came to spelling bees, debate squads and math competitions, she’d racked up requests by the dozens.

      Too bad her academic skills couldn’t help her sprint faster down the posh hotel corridor.

      More than ever, she needed speed to escape the royal watchers tracking her at the Cape Verde beachside resort off the coast of West Africa, which was like a North Atlantic Hawaii, a horseshoe grouping of ten islands. They were staying on the largest island, Santiago.

      No matter where she hid, determined legions were all too eager for a photo with a princess. Why couldn’t they accept she was here for a business conference, not socializing?

      Panting, Mari braced a hand against the wall as she stumbled past a potted areca silk palm strung with twinkling Christmas lights. Evading relentless pursuers wasn’t as easy as it appeared in the movies, especially if you weren’t inclined to blow things up or leap from windows. The nearest stairwell door was blocked by two tourists poring over some sightseeing pamphlet. A cleaning cart blocked another escape route. She could only keep moving forward.

      Regaining her balance, she power-walked, since running would draw even more attention or send her tripping over her own feet. Her low-heeled pumps thud-thud-thudded along the plush carpet in time with a polyrhythmic version of “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” wafting from the sound system. She just wanted to finish this medical conference and return to her research lab, where she could ride out the holiday madness in peace, crunching data rather than candy canes.

      For most people, Christmas meant love, joy and family. But for her, the “season to be jolly” brought epic family battles even twenty years after her parents’ divorce. If her mom and dad had lived next door to each other—or even on the same continent—the holidays would not have been so painful. But they’d played transcontinental tug-of-war over their only child for decades. Growing up, she’d spent more time in the Atlanta airport and on planes with her nanny than actually celebrating by a fireside with cocoa. She’d even spent one Christmas in a hotel, her connecting flight canceled for snow.

      The occasional cart in the hall now reminded her of that year’s room-service Christmas meal. Call her crazy, but once she had gained more control over her world, she preferred a simpler Christmas.

      Although simple wasn’t always possible for someone born into royalty. Her mother had crumbled under the pressure of the constant spotlight, divorced her Prince Charming in Western Africa and returned to her Atlanta, Georgia, home. Mari, however, couldn’t divorce herself from her heritage.

      If only her father and his subjects