Your Baby or Mine?

Cover Page

Excerpt

Dear Reader

Title Page

Dedication

About the Author

Dearest Readers

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

Alec swept Marissa into his arms, his mouth coming down on hers.

Yes. Yes! Marissa wound her arms around him and kissed him as if her very life had been given back to her.

Because it had.

Everything within her cried out for this moment. For at this moment, he was hers completely.

And then came the urgent cry.

“The baby,” she whispered, her breath heavy against his cheek.

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours.” Marissa was already backing away. “I’d better go see what she needs.”

He could only nod, trying to pull himself together.

What had he almost gone and done? If his daughter hadn’t cried out just then, heaven knows what would have happened.

Dear Reader,

This April, let Silhouette Romance shower you with treats.

We’ve got must-read miniseries, bestselling authors and tons of happy endings!

The nonstop excitement begins with Marie Ferrarella’s contribution to BUNDLES OF JOY. A single dad finds himself falling for his live-in nanny—who’s got a baby of her own. So when a cry interrupts a midnight kiss, the question sure to be asked is Your Baby or Mine?

TWINS ON THE DOORSTEP, a miniseries about babies who bring love to the most unsuspecting couples, begins with The Sheriff’s Son. Beloved author Stella Bagwell weaves a magical tale of secrets and second chances.

Also set to march down the aisle this month is the second member of THE SINGLE DADDY CLUB. Donna Clayton, winner of the prestigious Holt Medallion, brings you the story of a desperate daddy and the pampered debutante who becomes a Nanny in the Nick of Time.

SURPRISE BRIDES, a series about unexpected weddings, continues with Laura Anthony’s Look-Alike Bride. This classic amnesia plot line has a new twist: Everyone believes a plain Jane is really a Hollywood starlet—including the actress’s ex-fiancé!

Rounding out the month is the heartwarming A Wife for Doctor Sam by Phyllis Halldorson, the story of a small town doctor who’s vowed never to fall in love again. And Sally Carleen’s Porcupine Ranch, about a housekeeper who knows nothing about keeping house, but knows exactly how to keep her sexy boss happy! Enjoy!

Melissa Senate

Senior Editor

Silhouette Romance

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

Your Baby or Mine?

Marie Ferrarella

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Barbara Benedict,

for showing me a picture of Christopher

MARIE FERRARELLA

lives in Southern California. She describes herself as the tired mother of two overenergetic children and the contented wife of one wonderful man. This RITA Award-winning author is thrilled to be following her dream of writing full-time.

Dearest Readers,

I can’t remember a time when I didn’t love babies. All except for my brother Michael, but hey, he replaced me as the center of my parents’ universe, and besides, he cried for the first two years. By the time my brother Mark came along, I was back on the baby bandwagon.

There is just something about babies—all babies—that makes me melt Even energetic ones, and heaven knows I’ve had my share of those. The only reason I was brave enough to try for a second child after Jessica, who leapt off coffee tables, tried to fly and insisted on galloping on all fours in public, was because I didn’t think God would do that to me twice. I figured my second child would be calm. little did I realize that God has a sense of humor. Child number two made child number one look as if she were standing still most of the time. Nik bit through soda cans before he could walk, toppled mannequins in department stores—he thought they were big Barbie dolls—and once, at the age of two, unhooked my bra in the middle of a major toy store when he grabbed me by my blouse! Served me right for having a bra with a front claspl There are bits and pieces of Jess and Nik in all the children I write about—children like Christopher in Your Baby or Mine? Despite what they put me through, I am still hopelessly hooked on babies and kids of all ages. I think, if you read my books, you might come away with that impression. You wouldn’t be wrong.

As always, I thank you for reading and I hope I succeed in entertaining you.

Love,

Chapter One

He hated being late. It was one of those traits that he had always thought was rude in others and unforgivable in himself. But in the past few months, being late had seemed to become his inevitable fate. It was as if he was doomed to constantly be running behind every deadline, every event in his life.

It had been that way since last April. Twelve impossibly long months. A year.

A year in which Alec Beckett felt as if he were trapped in the last few minutes of an old war movie he’d once seen where the hero was running along the railroad tracks, trying to catch a train that would take him to freedom.

No matter what he did, that train just seemed to be getting farther and farther away from him.

And it had just gotten worse. Ellen had up and quit on him without so much as a full day’s notice. She was the third nanny to leave in a year, if you didn’t count the one he’d fired. It seemed that he was having no better luck in picking nannies than he was having in catching up.

“Not your fault, Andrea.”

Alec looked down at the baby tucked against his chest. When she stared at him with those wide, green eyes, he sometimes had the feeling that his daughter could intuit things, that she knew exactly what he was thinking and reacted to iL Never mind that she was only a little more than a year old and had trouble feeding herself without sharing the contents of her spoon with her curly blond hair. She could see into his very soul.

“I just want you to know that. None of this is any of your fault. Everything just looks as if it’s falling apart, but it’s not. We’re going to get through this, you and me. Don’t you doubt that for a minute. Daddy’s going to get his act together any day now.”

He said it with enough feeling to almost convince himself.

Andrea smiled at the sound of her father’s voice and uttered something unintelligible in response that he took to be agreement His daughter’s smile never ceased to uplift him. Andrea was the single being his whole world revolved around these days. Now that Christine was gone.

The small parking lot behind him was crowded with cars, family vehicles mostly, attesting to the fact that the people who were attending the session had probably already arrived.

He’d meant to leave work early, but then Rex had cornered him in the hallway, desperate for some data that was supposed to be delivered to a buyer by tomorrow noon. That set him back considerably. Rather than be early, Alec had wound up being half an hour late.

“Boy, this being both mom and dad business doesn’t get any easier with time, does it?” He looked down at Andrea ruefully as he hurried up the five cement steps to the squat, new building where such warm and nurturing-sounding classes as Family Planning and Baby Gamboling were held regularly. The class he was rushing to was called Baby and Me. “I know, I know, you don’t have anything to compare it to. But it’ll get better, I promise. There’s a lot of room for improvement here.”

And improvement was what he was bent on. It was what had led him to sign up for the class in the first place. It would have been the kind of thing that Christine would have done, had she had the opportunity.

He’d hardly had proper time to mourn her. One moment, he was a widower, the next, the father of a tiny baby girl who was being placed in his arms. There’d been no time for tears. No time for anything except seeing to Andrea’s needs and working.

It was only in the middle of the night that time seemed to stretch out endlessly, like a line that was plumbed down to infinity.

It had been a year and he had gone on with his life, but it wasn’t easy. Alec kept his days so filled with work that there was no opportunity for grief, no opportunity for thought. Andrea saw to it that at least part of his evenings were busy. And all the while, Alec kept his emotions at arm’s length until he could deal with them.

If ever.

“No music,” he murmured to Andrea as he pulled open one of the double doors leading into the building.

The Baby and Me class was supposed to take place on the ground floor, first room to the left, just around the corner. If class was in session, he thought that there would be some sort of children’s songs floating through the air.

“That’s a good sign. Maybe we’re not as late as I thought.”

He wasn’t sure why he thought there should be music coming from a Baby and Me class, he just did.

Truth of it was, he didn’t know what to expect from such a class, only that attending it would be a good thing for Andrea. He wanted her to grow up healthy and happy, and he wanted to compare notes with other parents to see if he was doing things right.

Maybe someone here would know where he could find a reputable nanny at a moment’s notice. God knows he was at his wit’s end.

With Ellen quitting yesterday evening and a meeting he absolutely had to attend this morning, Alec had turned to his mother in desperation and prevailed upon her to watch Andrea for the day.

Alec smiled to himself. Roberta Beckett wasn’t the kind of woman Norman Rockwell had envisioned when he’d been painting all of those warm scenarios of hearth and home and loving grandmothers. She wasn’t anyone’s idea of the typical grandmother, which wasn’t surprising since she hadn’t been a typical mother, either. She didn’t even answer to “Mother,” only to “Roberta.”

That change had come about almost fifteen years ago. Roberta had suddenly felt too young to have a fifteen-year-old son. Adjustments had to be made. Since he couldn’t get younger, she did. She’d ceased being “Mother” and became “Roberta,” falling somewhere between a sophisticated older sister and an eccentric aunt.

Sometimes, Alec thought, he really missed saying the word mother.

He looked at Andrea. So would she, he thought.

That was why he had to make it up to her. And attending this class was as good a way as any to begin. He meant to do all the things with his daughter that Christine no longer could. And all the things that Roberta had never done with him. He meant to give Andrea a stable family life, even if he was the only one in her family.

Hell of a way to start out, he thought, being late like this.

Hurrying around the corner, Alec ran straight into another roadblock. This one was softer. And noisy. A surprised squeal echoed around him, mingling with the sound of childish cries. In his rush to get to the room, he’d bumped into a dark-haired woman who appeared out of nowhere like a storm, dressed in silver leggings and a bright blue, overly long T-shirt hiked up on one incredibly slender hip.

Weighed down with diaper bag and other paraphernalia, she was holding a squirming baby in her arms.

The howl was deafening. For a split second Alec wasn’t sure if the noise was coming from his baby or hers. And then he realized that both were crying, more in startled surprise than anything else.

“Sorry,” he apologized, raising his voice to be heard above the din. “I’m in a hurry.” Almost automatically, he ran his hand over Andrea’s back to soothe her.

Marissa Rogers rubbed her head where it had made stunning contact with his shoulder. The man didn’t look particularly muscular, but he obviously had to be. It was either that, or he was smuggling iron rods beneath that green sweater of his.

“That would have been my guess,” she replied, amused.

Taking a step back, she felt something tug at chest level. Looking down, she saw that the small pinwheel pin she always wore was stuck to the man’s very expensive-looking sweater.

Though he was standing in front of the room, she wondered if he was actually going to attend the session. He didn’t look familiar to her and he was certainly dressed all wrong for roughhousing with his baby. That required clothes that were comfortable and worn, not crisp, pressed and stylish.

Her pin threatened to unravel threads out of the carefully crafted sweater if either of them made any sudden moves.

“We seemed to be attached.” When he just stared at her, Marissa indicated the pin with her eyes. She shifted Christopher up higher in her arms, then tried to undo the connection using one hand.

The pin remained firmly entrenched in the sweater. Great, Marissa thought, just what she needed when she was running late. Exasperated, she blew her bangs away from her eyes.

Her baby was squirming, making it impossible to disengage the pin. They were close enough for Alec to take in everything about her and process more information than he normally would. Her eyes were an electric blue that managed to dim the color of the outlandish T-shirt she had on. Her hair was a riot of wisps and curls and yet somehow still looked as if it had been painstakingly arranged that way. Her lips were slightly larger than her oval face and delicate features warranted, keeping her from being beautiful, but definitely not from being engagingly striking.

She was having absolutely no success. “Here, let me try,” Alec offered.

He immediately realized his mistake when he reached for the pin. The situation would call for him getting a little more familiar with her than he figured they’d both be comfortable with. He didn’t think it would be prudent to be brushing his fingertips along a strange woman’s breast, no matter what the reason.

Alec dropped his hand. “Maybe not,” he amended. The woman’s wide lips pulled into an amused smile and he realized that they didn’t keep her from being beautiful. They enhanced her beauty.

“Mammmmaaaamaaa.” Christopher was yelling directly into her ear.

Marissa blinked, as if that would help her block out the deafening cry. She raised her eyes to the stranger’s. He looked definitely flustered and not happy about it. Marissa attempted to work the pin free again.

“Shh, Mamma’s trying to get herself uncoupled from this nice man.”

This was ridiculous. Class had probably already started and he was standing out here, being one half of a Siamese twin. “I think you’d do better with two hands,” Alec suggested.

“Maybe,” she agreed, “but if I put my baby down out here, you’ll get to witness a first-class imitation of a gazelle. And I won’t be able to do any dashing unless you happen to know how to run backward.”

Christopher had been walking ever since he was ten months old and peace as she knew it had gone out the window the moment he had taken his first step. Setting him down here while she was attached to this stranger was just like asking for trouble.

The baby looked as if it was all arms, legs and teeth. It was against Alec’s better judgment, but there didn’t seem to be much choice.

“Here, let me hold him for you.”

Pausing, Marissa looked at the green-eyed stranger. A smile curved her lips again. She nodded at the pink rompered baby in his arms. “You already seem to have your hands full.”

Alec shifted Andrea to one arm, holding out his other hand. “I can hold them both.”

He fervently hoped he wouldn’t wind up embarrassing himself. Together the babies probably weighed only about forty-five pounds or so, but the fact that hers seemed to be in perpetual motion was going to be a definite problem.

Marissa’s smile widened. The man looked as if he was getting himself ready for an ordeal. That had to be his first baby, she mused. Still, since no one else appeared to be coming around the bend, letting him hold both children seemed to be the only solution at the moment. And it was getting late.

She presented Christopher to him. “Okay, but you’d better brace yourself.” She noted that Chris was setting off the man’s daughter, as well.

“Thanks for the warning,” Alec muttered, accepting the boy, swinging feet and all. Instant contact was made with Alec’s stomach. Alec tried not to wince at the unexpected blow.

But Marissa saw it. “Sorry.” She flushed ruefully. “I’ll hurry.”

Very deftly, taking care not to snag the sweater, she worked one of the pinwheel blades loose. Two more to go. How had they managed to tangle themselves up so well so quickly?

She wasn’t hurrying fast enough for Christopher, or for the stranger, who was having trouble hanging on to both babies.

“Maaaa-aaaa.”

Alec winced, feeling an eardrum shatter. “Good lungs.”

The offhand remark evoked a bittersweet pang within Marissa. Stupid, stupid. There was no reason to feel that way. She fumbled with the thread she was trying to ease off the next point of her pin. All that was far behind her now, she reminded herself. More than two years in the past.

“The best.” She didn’t raise her eyes from what she was doing. “Daddy’s a tenor with the Metropolitan Opera.” Or was, Marissa amended silently, the last time she’d seen Antonio.

Alec regarded the woman thoughtfully. If her husband was with such a prestigious group, what was she doing out here in leggings and an outlandish shirt, stuck to him? Why wasn’t she in New York? Alec glanced at the slender fingers that were fluttering between them, working at the pin.

No ring. Divorced?

Her son made a grab for Alec’s ear, obviously determined to destroy by force what he hadn’t obliterated with his voice. Alec moved his head back as far as he could. He slanted a glance at the woman. “Could you, um, hurry up with that?”

She almost had it. “One second.” Marissa bit her lip ruefully. “I can’t believe how tangled it got in just that one collision.” The freed thread seemed to bounce back against the sweater. She smoothed it down with her fingertips. “There.” She sighed. “We’re free.” Marissa turned her attention to Christopher, grinning. “I’ll take that, thank you.”

Alec shifted so that she could easily reclaim her baby. Relief skied over him with the speed of a winter Olympic contender. “All yours.”

There was way too much feeling in that proclamation, Marissa thought, amused. At least the man was honest. He made no attempt to pretend that holding on to her wiggling son was a piece of cake. Christopher had worn out a number of baby-sitters in his time. He was the reason she’d opted for this kind of a job while she was trying to earn her masters degree. A degree that had been temporarily interrupted while she took time out to have Christopher and get at least a cursory handle on motherhood. Those hadn’t been her original plans, but she had adapted, just as she had adapted when she had discovered that Antonio’s plans for the future did not include being a father. With one stroke of a pen, he had shed her, their marriage vows and their unborn child.

Andrea grabbed the collar of Alec’s sweater and was hanging on to it as if her very life depended on it. He suspected that sharing space with the woman’s bundle of joy might have had something to do with this reaction.

“It’s okay, Andrea.” He bounced her against his shoulder and she made a noise he swore passed for a giggle. “Daddy’s all yours again.”

The woman’s eyes seemed to glow with warmth as they washed over his daughter. “Is that her name?” she asked. “Andrea?” Alec nodded, holding the door open for her. “Pretty.”

He supposed that some sort of conversation was in order as he followed the woman inside the huge room. Making small talk with strangers had always made him uncomfortable, though he seemed to manage well enough for no one to really notice.

“What’s your boy’s name?” There was no indication that the child in her arms was a boy. The clothing was neutral, as was the color. And the baby’s hair was at a length that could have gone either way. But something told Alec that no female child could yell like that.

“Christopher,” Marissa answered.

He’d always liked that name. “Rugged,” he commented, looking at the boy. “Suits him.”

Marissa cast a long glance around the room. It was filled with brand-new equipment and toys, both purchased and donated, just ripe to set off the imagination. Her classes were happy places that everyone looked forward to attending. And it looked as if everyone was already here. Time to start. “Thanks.”

He followed her, wondering if there were assigned places or if people just sat anywhere and milled about. He couldn’t have been more out of his element than if he had just tied a bungee cord around his waist.

“Do you know anything about the instructor?” Alec looked around, trying to discern if anyone in the room looked like a teacher. “This is my first time here.”

So that was it. Marissa turned around to face him. “I didn’t think I recognized you.” She tried to remember if there was a new name on the register. People came and went so frequently, it was hard to keep track. The classes were relatively unstructured, which was what attracted most parents to them. It was a place to exhale, to be shown that they hadn’t terminally ruined their offspring by misguided deeds, and to feel good about parenting, themselves and their children.

Judging by the turnout, she figured she was doing a good job of reaching her goals.

Andrea was wetting his sweater just below the snag, trying to suck it all into her mouth. Alec moved her to his other side. “I just registered.”

Marissa nodded at several mothers looking her way, then smiled brightly at the man. “Well, then, welcome to the class. I’m Marissa Rogers.”

Alec was feeling increasingly more uncomfortable. By his rapid count, there were only three other men here. He began to wonder if this had been such a good idea after all.

“Looks like the teacher’s one of those people who doesn’t take responsibility seriously.”

“Oh?” She arched a sharp brow in response to his observation. “What makes you say that?”

He shrugged, looking toward the door. “Well, she’s obviously later than we are.”

The smile on her lips was vaguely amused. “Not quite.”

Before he could ask her what she meant by that, she’d hurried away from him.

Alec watched her work her way up to the front of the room, shedding her diaper bag and her purse as she went. Judging by the way everyone greeted her, she was no stranger to the group. Holding Andrea against him, he moved in the woman’s wake, deciding that he might do better staying near someone who was aware of the routine.