Оценить:
 Рейтинг: 0

The Greek's Tiny Miracle

Год написания книги
2018
1 2 3 4 5 ... 8 >>
На страницу:
1 из 8
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля
The Greek's Tiny Miracle
Rebecca Winters

His only chance to be a father…Navy SEAL captain Nikos Vassalos is a shell of the man he once was. Tortured by PTSD, he isolates himself on his luxury yacht. But his bitter solitude is interrupted–by a heavily pregnant woman who tells him he's about to be a dad!Putting her own deep-rooted fears of rejection aside, Stephanie Marsh is determined that her baby will know its father. Only this cold, suspicious Nikos is not the man she once fell for. Will the tiny miracle growing inside her help them find the happy ending they both deserve–together?

“Ready?” he asked under his breath.

When she nodded with reluctance she heard his sharp intake of breath.

“Maybe this will help.”

He pulled her into his arms and found her mouth with a fierceness she wasn’t prepared for, almost as if he was expecting her to fight him.

Stephanie clung to him, helpless to do anything else, and met the hunger of his kiss with an eagerness she would find embarrassing later. At last he was giving her a tender kiss, hot with desire, the one she’d been denied last night.

The way he was kissing her took her back to that unforgettable night on Grand Turk, when they’d given each other everything with a matchless joy she couldn’t put into words. He pressed her against the doorjamb to get closer. One kiss after the other made her crazy with desire. Stephanie was so in love with Nikos nothing existed for her but to love him and be loved.

The Greek’s Tiny Miracle

Rebecca Winters

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

REBECCA WINTERS, whose family of four children has now swelled to include five beautiful grandchildren, lives in Salt Lake City, Utah, in the land of the Rocky Mountains. With canyons and high alpine meadows full of wildflowers, she never runs out of places to explore. They, plus her favourite vacation spots in Europe, often end up as backgrounds for her romance novels, because writing is her passion, along with her family and church.

Rebecca loves to hear from readers. If you wish to e-mail her, please visit her website: www.cleanromances.com.

To my talented daughter Dominique, a writer for Harlequin herself, who has put up with her outrеe writer mom and encouraged her through thick and thin. How lucky can I be?

Contents

CHAPTER ONE (#u8ccaec54-5350-52c3-97ec-7580773ecad4)

CHAPTER TWO (#uf9688504-9a23-5c7c-a67a-38a96c69ccb3)

CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo)

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)

EXCERPT (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE

April 27

EVERY TIME MORE hotel guests entered the beachfront resort restaurant on Grace Bay in the Turks and Caicos Islands in the Caribbean, Stephanie expected to see her black-haired Adonis appear. That was how she thought of Dev Harris.

After their fantastic ninety-foot dive to Elephant Ear Canyon that afternoon to see the huge sponges, the tall, powerfully built New Yorker, who resembled a Greek god, had whispered that he’d meet her in the dining room at eight for dinner. They’d watch the sunset and later, each other.

As he’d helped her out of the dive boat, giving her arm a warm squeeze, his eyes, black as jet, conveyed the words he didn’t speak in front of the others in their scuba diving group. He was living for another night with her like last night.

She’d reluctantly left him to go to the beachfront condo and get ready for dinner. Her silvery-gold hair needed a shampoo. She’d decided to wear it loose from a side part. Time with the blow dryer and a brush brought out the natural curl, causing it to flow across her shoulders.

With the golden tan she’d picked up, tonight she’d chosen to wear a blue sleeveless sundress. She wanted to look beautiful for him. Last night she’d worn a filmy tangerine-colored dress and had bought a shimmering lip gloss to match. He’d told her that, in the dying rays of the sun, she’d look like a piece of golden fruit he longed to devour very slowly and thoroughly.

Her body trembled just remembering those words. While she waited for him to come, the memory of the way he’d made love to her over and over again made it difficult to breathe. It was her first intimate experience with a man, and had happened so naturally she felt as if she was living in a dream, one from which she never wanted to awaken.

In ten days’ time Stephanie had fallen so deeply in love, her whole world had changed. Throughout her dating years she’d had various boyfriends. Just last week she’d gone on a date with a guy named Rob Ferris, who ran an auto parts franchise, but she knew when he took her home after dinner that she really wasn’t interested in a second date.

Then she met Dev. The first time she’d seen him walking toward the boat with the dive master, her breath had caught. When their gazes collided, that was it. The feeling she’d been waiting for all her adult life.

Other relationships with past boyfriends had nothing to do with the profound kind of love she felt for the sophisticated thirty-two year-old bachelor, who’d told her he was in the international exporting business. He blew away every other man in existence.

Her three girlfriends who’d arranged their April vacations to come on this scuba diving trip with her fully agreed he was out-of-this-world gorgeous. Melinda thought he must be one of those frogmen from the military, the way he maneuvered under the water. He was certainly built like one.

Stephanie agreed with her friends, but there was more to Dev than his physical attributes and diving skills. Much more. Everything he said and did revealed that he was well-traveled and educated, making him exceptional, and so charismatic she could hardly breathe when she thought about him.

Where was he? By now it was quarter to nine. Obviously, he’d been held up. The only thing to do was go back to her room and call him on the hotel land line. His beachfront condo, where they’d spent last night, was located on the other side of the restaurant, but she thought she should phone him first.

Stephanie was on her way out when a waiter came toward her with a florist box in his hands. “Ms. Walsh? This is for you, with Mr. Harris’s compliments.”

Thrilled to have received it, she went back to the table to take off the lid. He was probably on his way to her now. Inside the tissue was a corsage of gardenias with a card.

Thank you for the most memorable ten days and nights of my life, Stephanie. Your sweetness is like these gardenias and I’ll never forget you. Unfortunately, I’ve had to leave the island because of an emergency at my work that couldn’t be handled by anyone else. Enjoy the rest of your trip and be safe flying back to Crystal River. I miss you already. Dev.

Stephanie sat there and felt the blood drain from her face.

Her spring idyll was over.

He’d already driven to the airport to catch his flight to New York. Of course he hadn’t left her a phone number or address, nor had he asked her for the same information. On purpose he hadn’t given her a shred of hope that they’d ever see each other again.

She had to be the biggest fool who’d ever lived.

No, there was one other person she knew who shared that honor. Her mother, who’d died from cancer after Stephanie had graduated from college. Twenty-four years ago Ruth Walsh had made the same mistake with an irresistible man. But whoever he was hadn’t stuck around once the fun was over, either. Stephanie didn’t know his name and had no memories of him, only that her mother had said he was good-looking, exciting and an excellent skier.

He and Dev were two of a kind.

Stephanie closed her eyes tightly. How many females went off on vacation and supposedly met their soul mate, who swept them off their feet, only to abandon them once the excitement wore off? It had to be in the hundreds of thousands, if not the millions. Stephanie, like her mother, was one of those pathetic statistics who’d gotten caught up in the rapture.
1 2 3 4 5 ... 8 >>
На страницу:
1 из 8