In Bed With...Collection

‘He’s been the only real constant in my life…all my life. And I do feel…an undeniable bond with him. He’s my father…’

And they were very alike, very much father and son…a bond that would never be broken, she thought, and one she couldn’t fight.

‘But you’re my wife, Sunny…and I love you. I love you as I’ve never loved any other person.’

He loved her?

‘I didn’t know what love was…how it could be…’

He swept his mouth over her hair, pressing warm, lingering kisses as though wanting, needing to imprint his feeling on her, and Sunny started tingling with the sweet joy of it, unable to cling to any fearful caution.

‘But I do now with you,’ he went on fervently. ‘And I don’t want to lose it. Ever…’

She didn’t, either.

‘If we can’t have a child…believe me, Sunny…I don’t want a child with any other woman. You are more important to me than any child could ever be. Having you sharing my life…that comes first. I promise you…it will always come first.’

She was swamped by his caring…caring for her…only her…

His hand threaded through her hair and cradled her head, his fingers gently kneading as he made his last bid for the marriage he wanted.

‘You said love to you was emotional security. I don’t know what more to do…to prove you have that with me, Sunny.’ He took a deep breath and poured out his heart. ‘Please…I love you so much. Can you let this pregnancy issue go, and just…be with me?’

How could she not?

She loved him.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#ud535c0fb-8216-5cc4-a273-7d8e9771b73f)

SUNNY gazed in adoring fascination at the baby snuggled in the crook of her arm. Her baby. Hers and Bryce’s. He was so beautiful, she couldn’t stop smiling.

It was possible to look back now and be glad she hadn’t fallen pregnant in those first couple of months of their marriage. To Sunny’s mind, it was so much better having their child a true child of love and not the result of a marriage bargain. And that was how it had happened in the end.

The most probable cause of her initial infertility was anxiety, the doctor had told her—wanting to get it right for Bryce and his father. There’d been nothing physically wrong with her. Once she had felt emotionally secure in her marriage, she had fallen pregnant the very next month. And here she was…a mother at last.

The footsteps coming along the hospital corridor heralded Bryce’s return from the airport. A glance at her watch assured her the time was about right. The clacking heels undoubtedly belonged to her mother who had flown from Sydney to see her new grandchild and stay for a while to give Sunny any help she might need in getting used to motherhood. Voices became more decipherable and she heard Will Templar giving forth.

‘Oh, I knew it would be a boy. No surprise at all.’

Sunny rolled her eyes at her father-in-law’s smug confidence. His flight from Sedona must have come in at approximately the same time as her mother’s for them to have all met up together.

‘Bryce was bound to have sons,’ he went on proudly.

Sunny almost wished she’d had a daughter. Will Templar was far too fond of getting his own way. Not that she’d swap her darling little boy for any other baby. He had his tiny hand curled around her little finger, and while he might be too young to focus properly, he seemed to be looking straight into her eyes, loving her right back.

Bryce popped his head around the door and grinned at her. ‘Ready for visitors?’

‘It’s showtime,’ she said, grinning back at him.

In came her mother, beaming excitement and carrying a big bunch of irises and daffodils. ‘Sunny…you look wonderful! And here he is…’ She set the flowers on the bed, gave Sunny a kiss, and swept the baby up to cradle him herself. ‘Oh, what a bonny boy!’

‘Looks just like Bryce,’ Will declared, peering over her shoulder.

‘Nonsense!’ her mother chided indulgently. ‘See those curls? He’s got Sunny’s hair.’

‘But it’s black, like Bryce’s,’ Will pointed out, sticking to his judgment.

‘Will, your son does not have curls,’ her mother said firmly.

‘Chip off the old block anyway,’ Will muttered. ‘Lucky your daughter’s got brains as well as beauty, Marion. What we have here is a fine set of genes.’

‘There’s no luck involved at all, Will. Sunny married a man who matched her.’

‘Well, can’t go wrong with that combination,’ he conceded. ‘They’re a good pairing. Saw it straight away.’

‘Yes. They struck me that way, too. Very much in love.’

It was clear Will Templar considered this a soppy sentiment. ‘What’s love got to do with it?’

Her mother gave him an archly knowing look. ‘Everything.’ Then she smiled her perfect understanding at her daughter. ‘What are you calling him, Sunny?’

‘Adam,’ she answered, giving Bryce a quizzical glance that encompassed their separate parents.

He rolled his eyes back at her, indicating there’d been a running altercation between them all the way here.

‘Good strong name,’ Will approved.

‘Yes. It goes well with Templar,’ her mother agreed.

‘He’s my grandson, too, you know,’ Will reminded her mother. ‘How about letting me hold him?’

‘I think you’d better sit down first,’ Marion York advised him. ‘Sunny told me you had a heart condition.’

‘Doctors are fixing that up. Gave me a whole heap of new drugs and they’re working,’ he declared. ‘Do I look like a man with a heart condition?’

In truth, Bryce’s father was looking surprisingly well, Sunny thought. He’d put on some weight and his face was a much better colour.

‘Well, I must say you look like a man in his prime, Will,’ Marion said admiringly, and Will Templar instantly puffed out his chest. She smiled winningly as she added, ‘But why not sit down anyway? Much easier to handle a baby sitting down. You haven’t had as much practice at it as I have.’

‘True. But I’ll have you know this grandchild is giving me a new lease on life.’ He settled himself in one of the armchairs. ‘Give him here.’

Sunny and Bryce exchanged highly amused looks as her mother carefully handed their baby son over to his grandfather who immediately started rocking him to show he knew exactly what a baby liked.

‘Isn’t he lovely?’ her mother cooed.

‘A real boy,’ Will declared.

Her mother straightened up, positively glowing. She was wearing a plum-coloured pantsuit, a skivvy in a soft shade of wheat, a pretty scarf with a swirl of purple and plum and gold. The colours looked wonderful on her, and her eyes were sparkling, no sign at all that she’d just endured a long flight from Sydney.