A Christmas Baby Surprise. Catherine Mann

      

       “God, woman, you do turn me inside out. You always have.”

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to send mixed signals—” Alaina stammered.

      He traced her lips. “You turning me inside out has always been a good thing. We may have argued about a lot of issues, but we always connected on a physical level. I meant it when I said I wouldn’t pressure you to take this faster than you’re ready.”

      “That’s good to know. The attraction between us is … problematic.”

      “We were married for years. Even if your brain doesn’t remember, I believe that on some level your body does. We’ll just take things slow until your mind catches up.”

      He offered her another piece of dark chocolate. Her fingertips gingerly brushed his as she took it. Another confusing jolt of desire burst through her.

      “What if my mind doesn’t ever catch up?”

      A devilish smile spread across his lips. “Then we’ll start over.”

      * * *

      A Christmas Baby Surprise is part of Mills & Boons Desire’s No 1 bestselling series Billionaires and Babies: Powerful men … wrapped around their babies’ little fingers

       A Christmas Baby Surprise

      Catherine Mann

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      Table of Contents

       Cover

       Introduction

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

One

Two

       Three

       Four

       Five

       Six

       Seven

       Eight

       Nine

       Ten

       Eleven

       Epilogue

       Copyright

      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 my awesome editor Stacy Boyd!

One

      Alaina Rutger was living her childhood dream—a family of her own. Her charismatic husband was driving her home from the hospital with their infant son strapped into a car seat. She had the perfect life.

      If only she could remember the man who’d put the four-carat diamond wedding ring on her finger.

      A man who called himself Porter Rutger. Husband. Father of her child. And a man who’d been wiped from her memory along with the past five years of her life.

      She tore her eyes away from his broad shoulders and coal-dark hair as she sat in back with their baby. Her baby. Alaina tucked the monogrammed red blanket over the infant as he slept, one foot in a booty, the other in a cast that had begun the repair on his clubfoot.

      Another person she didn’t remember. Another heartbreak in her upside-down world. A week ago, she’d woken in the hospital with no memory of the man sitting by her bedside or of the blue bundle in the bassinet.

       Waking up from a coma had felt a lot like coming to after the worst hangover ever, her head throbbing so badly she could barely move. But a quick look around showed her a hospital room rather than a bedroom.

       And a hot man sleeping in the chair, his dark hair rumpled. His black pants and white button-down wrinkled.

       Her own Doctor McDreamy?

       “Hello,” she’d croaked out, her throat raw for a sip of water.

       McDreamy bolted awake quickly. “Alaina?” He blinked, scrubbed his hand across his eyes in disbelief, then shot to his feet. “Oh, God, you’re awake. I need to get the nurse.”

       “Water,” she rasped out. “Please, a drink.”

       He thumbed the nurses’ call button. “I don’t know what the doctors will want. Maybe ice chips. Your IV has been feeding you. Soon, though, I promise, whatever you want, soon.”

       The nurses? Doctors? He wasn’t Doc McDreamy? Then... “Who are you?”

       He looked up from the control panel of buttons slowly, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Who am I?”

       She pressed her fingertips to her monster headache. “I’m sorry, but I feel like hell. What happened?”

       “Alaina...” He sank slowly into the chair, his voice measured, guarded. “We were in a car accident.”

       “We?” She knew him?

       “Yes,” he said, leaning closer to cover her hand carefully. “Alaina, my name’s Porter and I’m your husband.”