The Night Before Christmas. Alison Roberts

      

      The Night Before Christmas

       Alison Roberts

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      Table of Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Praise

       About the Author

       CHAPTER ONE

       CHAPTER TWO

       CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       CHAPTER TWELVE

       Copyright

       Praise for Alison Roberts:

      ‘Readers will be moved by this incredibly sweet story

      about a family that is created

      in the most unexpected way.’

      —RT Book Reviews on THE HONOURABLE MAVERICK

      ‘I had never read anything by Alison Roberts

      prior to reading TWINS FOR CHRISTMAS,

      but after reading this enchanting novella

      I shall certainly add her name to my auto-buy list!’

      —Cataromance.com on TWINS FOR CHRISTMAS

      ‘Ms Roberts produces her usual entertaining blend

      of medicine and romance in just the right proportion,

      with a brooding but compelling hero

      and both leads with secrets to hide.’

      —Mills and Boon^® website reader review on NURSE, NANNY…BRIDE!

      About the Author

      ALISON ROBERTS lives in Christchurch, New Zealand. She began her working career as a primary school teacher, but now juggles available working hours between writing and active duty as an ambulance officer. Throwing in a large dose of parenting, housework, gardening and pet-minding keeps life busy, and teenage daughter Becky is responsible for an increasing number of days spent on equestrian pursuits. Finding time for everything can be a challenge, but the rewards make the effort more than worthwhile.

      CHAPTER ONE

      ‘PLEASE, Mummy … please …’

      The huge blue eyes were filled with such desperate longing, it was unbearable.

      ‘But it’ll be horribly crowded, darling. We’ll have to stand in a big queue for heaven knows how long.’

      ‘I don’t mind.’

      ‘We might be gone for hours.’

      ‘Misty doesn’t mind, either. Do you, Misty?’

      Another set of blue eyes but without the sparkle. Framed by the same gorgeous, golden curls, but this face was much thinner and there were shadows caused by the kind of pain no child should have to endure. The brave smile as this little girl shook her head in agreement was even more unbearable. It was enough to create the unpleasant prickle of tears at the back of Lizzie’s eyes.

      She swallowed them away with a skill born of long practice.

      ‘It’s ‘portant, Mummy. I have to tell Santa what me and Misty want for Christmas.’

      ‘Christmas is weeks away, Holly. Santa will be there every day from now on. It’s the first day of the big sale today and that’s why it’ll be so crowded. We could go next week.’

      ‘No-o-o.’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘Cos it’s Santa’s first day and he might ‘member what I tell him and he might forget when he’s listened to lots and lots of other girls and boys. Me and Misty’s secret might fall out of his head, like things do for Nanna.’

      There was a snort from the corner of the room, but no comment. Lizzie hid a smile. She also stifled a sigh, trying to think.

      It would be overheated and stuffy in the famous department store, Bennett’s. There would be a huge queue with dozens of children waiting with their parents for their turn to sit on Santa’s knee and whisper secrets. Happy, excited, healthy children and she’d have to stand there for far too long. Feeling the pull back to this small hospital room. But if she stayed, she’d feel guilty. Holly needed her too and she was going to get even less of her mother’s time in the next few weeks.

      ‘For heaven’s sake,’ came a firm voice from the same direction the snort had come from. ‘Go, Lizzie. You’ll be seeing more than you want of four walls like this in a couple of days. I’ll stay here with Misty.’

      ‘Are you sure, Mum? You’ve done so much already today. You must be exhausted. How’s your hip?’

      The older woman smiled, looking up from a pile of felt fabric she was sorting in her lap. ‘I’m fine. Think