Baby, You're Mine

Baby, You're Mine
Lindsay Longford

Bundles of JoyAND BABY MAKES FOUR…?When pretty, pregnant and penniless Phoebe McAllister showed up on his doorstep, Murphy Jones didn't think twice about taking in the expectant mom and her adorable daughter. But the single-minded bachelor was opening up his home, not his heart….Once, Phoebe had dreamed of a blissful future with Murphy. But when the overprotective loner insisted she deserved better, she'd fled, vowing to forget him–somehow. Now she'd returned older and wiser, but still powerless to resist the gruff man who touched her soul. This was her last chance to win Murphy, and Phoebe vowed to do anything to make him hers–forever!Sometimes small packages can lead to the biggest surprises!

“Ready or not, here I comes!” (#u93126cf0-73a8-514a-b1a0-cd3fc833653a)Letter to Reader (#u8122601f-6537-5396-b621-a903cf914790)Title Page (#u0ffacac0-7ad0-5489-9c5a-d964c635ef5a)Dedication (#u17ea60f2-e79a-5fe2-880d-e3afed731a71)About the Author (#u0e7e37ba-4c32-55e5-90f2-83fd5f47c4d3)Letter to Reader (#u37dbb380-c1f0-5e3f-bc36-1342fe6d4f83)Chapter One (#u4383ff3b-9443-5584-b6b9-f7cd8581e546)Chapter Two (#ueb311a55-666d-59a4-b574-17514a8d636c)Chapter Three (#u1197b8ed-439c-5b8b-acac-7e240e199bbb)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

“Ready or not, here I comes!”

Bird swooshed down the banister into Murphy’s waiting arms. She hugged him and gave his cheek a damp kiss.

As his eyes met Phoebe’s, Murphy felt a tightness in his chest. He’d seen her protectiveness with her child. But Phoebe trusted him with her daughter.

He didn’t know why that mattered—but it did.

Bird gazed up at him adoringly. “I don’t got a daddy, but you can be my Murphy.”

He grasped her hand, and a curious tickling in his throat made him cough. “I’d be honored to be your...Murphy.”

“Well, of course. Because everybody’s got to have somebody. Now you belong to me.” She closed her fist around his thumb. “Okay?”

“Okay,” he said. The feel of her small hand clinging to his turned his heart over. And nothing could describe the rush of emotions swirling through him as Phoebe’s daughter looked at him steadily with her trusting, innocent eyes....

Dear Reader.

Silhouette Romance blends classic themes and the challenges of romance in today’s world into a reassuring, fulfilling novel. And this month’s offering undeniably deliver on that promise!

In Baby, You’re Mine, part of BUNDLES OF JOY, RITA Award-winning author Lindsay Longford tells of a pregnant, penniless widow who finds sanctuary with a sought-after bachelor who’d never thought himself the marrying kind...until now. Duty and passion collide in Sally Carleen’s The Prince’s Heir, when the prince dispatched to claim his nephew falls for the heir’s beautiful, adoptive mother. When a single mom desperate to keep her daughter weds an ornery rancher intent on saving his spread, she discovers that McKenna’s Bartered Bride is what she wants to be...forever. Don’t miss this next delightful installment of Sandra Steffen’s BACHELOR GULCH series.

Donna Clayton delivers an emotional story about the bond of sisterhood...and how a career-driven woman learns a valuable lesson about love from the man who’s Her Dream Come True. Carla Cassidy’s MUSTANG, MONTANA, Intimate Moments series crosses into Romance with a classic boss/secretary story that starts with the proposition Wife for a Week, but ends...well, you’ll have to read it to find out! And in Pamela Ingrahm’s debut Romance novel, a millionaire CEO realizes that his temporary assistant—and her adorable toddler—have him yearning to leave his Bachelor Boss days behind.

Enjoy this month’s tides—and keep coming back to Romance, a series guaranteed to touch every woman’s heart.

Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to:

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Baby, You’re Mine

Lindsay Longford

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

To my sisters-in-law Barbara Cross, Marty Cross,

Bonnie Kasowski and Lois Vangundy

LINDSAY LONGFORD,

like most writers, is a reader. She even reads toothpaste labels in desperation! A former high school English teacher with an M.A. in literature, she began writing romances because she wanted to create stories that touched readers’ emotions by transporting them to a world where good things happened to good people and happily-ever-after is possible with a little work.

Her first book, Jake’s Child, was nominated for Best New Series Author, Best Silhouette Romance, and received a Special Achievement Award for Best First Series Book from Romantic Times Magazine. It was also a finalist for the Romance Writers of America’s RITA Award for Best First Book. Her Silhouette Romance novel Annie and the Wise Men won the RITA for Best Traditional Romance of 1993.

Dear Reader,

Bundles. That’s what babies are. Each one is a wrapped-up surprise package, a bundle of hopes and tenors.

Our failures cease to exist in their love. They love us unconditionally, and we see ourselves through their eyes. We become that all-powerful. good person who knows everything, who can solve any crisis, who fills our child’s heart with joy. Their love makes us do anything, brave everything, to keep them safe. For those few moments in time we are perfect for at least one person in this world. Well, at least until they turn into those equally fascinating creatures known as teenagers!

For our children we reach out to the world and look at it differently. For me, my son became a small vessel I could fill with all the fairy tales and myths I’d loved. He gave me a chance to again read books that I’d grown too old for. And, night after night, I told him stories, always with a brown-eyed boy as the hero. Sometimes he would tap me on the shoulder as I drifted asleep and beg. “Don’t stop. Keep telling the story.” And, captive to his delight, I would continue.

Children teach us to view the people in our lives in a new way. My love for my husband deepened after I saw how our infant son reached in and with one powerful, baby grip grabbed and held on to my husband’s heart for the rest of his life, enriching it and giving it meaning, changing him.

Reminding us of life’s fragility, our babies teach us to fill each moment with love, to make every moment count. They are a gift, these babies, our bundles of incredible joy.

With affection and joy,

Chapter One

Fanning herself with the folded Manatee Creek News she’d found on the stoop, Phoebe huddled in the porch swing, suitcases piled beside the front door.

Sooner or later Murphy would come home. He had to.

Because she’d just bet her last dime that he would be here. No, not her actual last dime. After buying the plane tickets and paying the taxi from the airport, she had fifty dollars left. Heck, by some folks’ standards, she reckoned she should count herself a wealthy woman.

The swing creaked, rusty chain rubbing against wicker and metal, the sound loud in the hot afternoon silence.

Her daughter’s sticky body was plastered tight against Phoebe as the little girl kicked the swing back and forth with both sneakered feet. Her small, pointed face was peony-pink from the heat.

“Nice breeze.” Lightly tapping the end of Frances Bird’s button nose, Phoebe lifted a hank of sweat-damp hair away from her own neck. “Thanks, baby. Every little breath of air helps.”

In the heat and humidity, Phoebe’s fine, curly hair stuck to her cheek, frizzed. Her lipstick had worn off hours earlier, and the makeup she’d applied so carefully in the fresh morning air of Wisconsin had long ago melted off her face. If she could muster the energy, she supposed she ought to slather on a bright red lipstick, show Murphy a happy face. And she would, too, once she found an ounce of get-up-and-go. Giving credit where credit was due, though, she had gotten up and gone. But now she was here.

And here she’d stay.

Until she talked with Murphy.

The swing wobbled, tilted, as Frances Bird shifted. “I’m thirsty, Mama. I want a cool drink, and I need it now.”

“Patience, Bind.” She tugged her not-quite-a-baby to her. The warm, little-girl scent rose to Phoebe, and she rested her cheek against her daughter’s sweaty forehead and inhaled.

Terrifying, the weight of all this love.