“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

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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.”

The shock of that revelation still echoed through her.

Once the nurse and doctor had checked her over Porter had further explained they’d been in a car wreck a month prior, after picking up little Thomas from the adoption agency. Her husband... Porter. Porter Rutger. God, she still struggled to remember his name. Porter told her the baby had a birth defect and had spent the past month going through surgeries while she’d been in a coma from the accident.

Too soon, before she felt ready to handle this life she’d landed in, it was time to leave the hospital. She’d been told many first moms felt that way.

But not all new mothers had amnesia.

Her throat burned with bile and fears that hadn’t abated since she’d woken from the coma a week ago thinking it was November, only to find it was December.

Five years later.

Five years of memories simply gone, pushed out of her head in the course of a month. Most devastating, she’d lost the four and a half years Porter had been in her life.

How was it that four weeks asleep could steal so much of her life? That coma had left her mind missing a substantial chunk of memories and yet her body felt 100 percent normal. She’d even been attracted to her stranger husband, so attracted that the aches and lethargy left over from her coma hadn’t dulled the shiver of awareness she’d felt at the brush of his hands against her as he helped her from the hospital bed and into the car.

She swallowed hard and turned to look out the window at the rolling waves as the Mercedes traveled the Florida coastal road toward what Porter had told her was their beach mansion. They also owned a home in Tallahassee but they’d been closer to the beach home when picking up the baby, then having the wreck. Traveling with their infant son so fresh from surgery and her so recently out of a coma hadn’t seemed wise. The doctors had advised they stay close for the short term at least.

Porter had quickly suggested they stay at their nearby vacation home. Apparently her tall, dark and studly husband was wealthier than Midas, thanks to his construction empire that won major contracts to build corporate structures around the country. They had no financial worries as she recovered, he’d told her. Another reason to be grateful.

But instead of gratitude, she could only feel fear at the imbalance of power between her and this man who was her husband. She was adrift with only the facts he told her about her past. No family since her parents were dead. No friends, other than people she apparently hadn’t seen in five years, since her breakup from an abusive boyfriend. She’d cut herself off from everyone then.

Still, she was missing the months following that breakup, the months leading up to her meeting Porter. Falling in love with him. Marrying him. He said after they married, they’d moved to southeastern Florida, away from her hometown in North Carolina. She believed what he said, but wondered what parts he might not have mentioned. Men could be so brief in their explanations, leaving out details or emotional components a woman would find crucial.

Porter glanced in the rearview mirror, his brown eyes as dark as undiluted coffee full of caffeinated energy.

Jolt.

“Alaina, is everything all right?” he said, his Southern drawl muted by some experience in another region.

Something else she didn’t know about him unless he told her.

What kind of answer did he expect from her? More of the same dodgy responses they’d given each other over the past week since she woke up? Guarded words spoken in front of doctors or said out of fear her fragile world might shatter into a somnolent fog again?

Each mile closer to a vacation home she couldn’t recall stretched the tension inside her tighter until she snapped softly, “Did the doctor give you any more insight as to why can’t I remember the past five years? Nearly a quarter of my life is just gone.”

“The doctor spoke with you. He has an obligation to be honest with you. You’re his patient.” The man in the front seat who called himself her husband was unfailingly polite but lacked the kind of warmth that Alaina would have envisioned in a man she’d married.

Her husband.

What had made her choose this coolly controlled male for a mate? Another question she couldn’t begin to answer. In spite of the spark that seemed to arc between them amidst the questions.

“I haven’t forgotten that conversation. It was more of a rhetorical question because there are so many other things I don’t understand.” She glanced down at her sleeping son in his impossibly cute elf pajamas. “Such as, how could anyone forget a child this precious?”

Her heart swelled to look at Thomas, his tiny nose and Cupid’s-bow mouth calling to her every maternal instinct. She’d always wanted children, dreamed of having a big family after growing up an only child. If she and Porter had been married for almost four years, what had made them wait to start their family?

“You’d only known him for a couple of hours before the accident.” Porter turned onto a secluded drive where mammoth houses were hidden by manicured privacy hedges on one side, although she knew the other side opened to the water.

“The length of time shouldn’t matter. He’s a child, my child—” she paused, brushing her fingers across the top of an impossibly small and soft hand “—our child. That’s life changing. A minute. An hour. A couple of hours. That should be burned in here.” She tapped the front of her head.

“Even if your marriage wasn’t?” he asked wryly.

Contrition nipped. This had to be tough for him, too. “I’m sorry. This can’t be easy for you, either.”

“You’re alive and awake, more than I ever expected to have again.” He said the emotional words with a harsh rasp as he guided the car along the palm tree–lined road. “I can deal with the rest.”

“You make me feel as if I shouldn’t be frustrated.”

“Give yourself time.” He kept both hands on the wheel, the late-day sunshine glinting off his Patek Philippe wristwatch. “You’ve been through a lot.”

How did she know the brand of his watch but not know if the band on his ring finger had an inscription? But then, she remembered studying art history when she’d got her bachelor’s degree. Recalled a love of finely made things and beautiful objects. Maybe that was why the watch resonated and the ring...nothing.

“What about you? What have you been through this past month? It must have been horrible, with a child in surgery and a wife in a coma.”

“That doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’m fine now.”

Her mouth twitched with amusement as the car braked at a stop sign wrapped in garland. “Are you one of those men who’s too tough to be vulnerable?”

His eyes met hers solemnly in the mirror. “I’m a man who thought he’d lost everything.”

And just that fast, she felt her terrified heart melt a little for this stranger husband of hers. “You still have, in a way,” she said sympathetically, “because of me and how I’ve lost any sense of us and our memories.”

At the deserted intersection, he twisted to look over the seat at her, his elbow resting along the back and tugging his button-down shirt across his muscular chest. “You and our son are alive. That truly is what’s most important to me.”

There had been tension between them since she’d woken up in the hospital. He still held all the answers she couldn’t access. But now, with the sincerity shining in his eyes, she wanted to hug him, ached to wrap her arms around him and have him do the same to her. Most of all, to have that feel familiar. She stretched a hand out to touch his elbow lightly—

A car honked behind them and she jerked her hand back. What was she thinking? Except for the few things he’d told her, she knew nothing about him or her or what kind of life they’d built together. Or what kind of future they might have because these events had changed them. Undoubtedly.

However for Thomas, she and Porter had to try for a level of peace between them. Could the Christmas spirit work a miracle for her family?

Shifting nervously in her seat, Alaina toyed with the reindeer baby rattle, gathering up her rapidly fraying nerve. “May I ask you questions about the past?”

“Why didn’t you question more before?” He kept his eyes on the road this time.

In some ways maybe that made this conversation easier.

“Because...I was scared you wouldn’t answer.”

“What’s changed?”

“We’re not in the hospital. There are no doctors who make me do all the work thinking, insisting I should only remember what I’m ready to know. They kept asking me not to push to remember, but that’s causing me even more stress, wondering.” She needed to know. How could she be a real wife to Porter and a mother to Thomas if she didn’t even know who she was or how they’d become a family?

“You trust me to answer truthfully?” He glanced back at her, his eyes darkening.

“What do you have to gain by lying?”

Now wasn’t that a loaded question? One that called for total trust in a man she barely knew. But she had no other choice, not if she wanted to reconnect as a family. “How did we meet?”

“My firm was handling building an addition to a museum where you worked. You saw me flex my muscles and here we are.”

He sure did have muscles, and if they’d enticed her half as much then as they did now she could see how he would have caught her attention. His humor made him even more appealing. “You’re funny, after all, Porter.”

“You think I don’t have a sense of humor? You’ve wounded my ego.”

“There hasn’t been a lot of room for levity this week.” She’d been so damn scared in the hospital. Walking the halls at night when she couldn’t sleep. Obsessively checking on the baby and praying she would remember something, anything from the past five years.

Most of all, wondering about the mysterious, handsome man who’d spent hours with her each day.

“True enough. Hopefully we can fix that. We have the whole holiday season to relax, settle our child and get to know each other again.” Through the rearview mirror, he held her eyes with a determined intensity. “Because, make no mistake, I intend to remind you of all the reasons we fell in love in the first place.”

His words made something go hot inside her, a mixture of desire and confusion and, yes, nerves. She swallowed hard. It didn’t help. But even if she didn’t remember it, this was her life. There was no choice but to push on. To regain her memories and her life.

And figure out just what this man—her husband—meant to her. Not just in the past. But now.

* * *

Porter Rutger had been through hell.

But for the first time in a long time he saw a way to climb back out.

His hands clenched the steering wheel as he drove his wife and son home from the hospital. The past month—worrying about how Thomas would recover from his first surgery for his clubfoot, wondering about possible hidden effects of the accident on the baby...

And all the while his wife had been in a coma.

Porter’s jaw flexed as he studied the familiar beach road leading to the vacation home they’d chosen after their third in vitro failed. Before they’d adopted Thomas, their marriage had showed signs of fraying from years of struggling with the stresses of infertility.

He and Alaina had been in hell for a long time, even before the accident. He’d thought they’d hit rock bottom when they’d contacted a divorce attorney. They’d been so close to signing the divorce papers when the call came about a baby to adopt. A special-needs baby, difficult to place, an infant who required surgeries and years of physical therapy. While foster care would have provided the basics, the search for a home would have to start all over again if they backed out, leaving the baby adrift in the system.

They hadn’t made the decision to adopt on a whim. They’d started the adoption process two years ago when the reality of infertility had become clear. Then they’d faced more heartache waiting. Their already strained marriage hadn’t fared well under the added stress.

To this day, he couldn’t remember which of them had asked for a divorce. The words had been thrown out during an argument and then taken root, growing fast, lawyers involved. It had damn near torn him apart, but their constant arguments had made it impossible to envision a future together bringing up the family they both wanted so much. Even marriage counseling hadn’t helped.

They’d reached the end—and then the call had come about Thomas.

He and Alaina had put their differences aside to adopt the baby and stay together temporarily. Her soft, open heart had welcomed the baby from the second the call had come. Thomas needed them. That had cinched the deal for Alaina.

Then the accident happened and the possibility of losing her completely had made him want to shred the documents. Maybe he could have that family he wanted after all.

And he’d had no idea how quickly that little bundle in the back would steal his heart. He would do anything for his son. Anything.

While he would also do anything to have Alaina healthy, he couldn’t ignore the fact that he had a second chance to win her over—for himself and for their son. This could be a fresh start, a way to work through all the pain they’d caused each other in the past.

Yes, he’d made mistakes in their marriage, but this was a new opportunity to build the family he’d always wanted. Growing up with a single-mom lawyer who worked all the time and husband-hunted during her hours off, he’d craved stability, love.

If he could only gain Alaina’s forgiveness, or convince her that he was in it for the long haul this time, that he’d changed. Hell, if he could just make Alaina realize he wasn’t the man he’d been a few weeks ago, then he could have the family he’d always dreamed of. The one they’d both wanted.

He’d never been one to procrastinate or waste time. He was a man of action.

And the stakes had never been more important than now.

Porter glanced in the rearview mirror at his blonde wife, the woman he’d fallen head over heels in love with four and a half years ago. Her intelligence, confidence and artistic flair had mesmerized him. He’d seen her discussing gallery art with a visiting class of elementary school students and he’d known. She was the one. She was his every perfect fantasy—soft, openhearted. He could envision her cradling their babies. Making sand castles with toddlers. Painting with children.

And it hadn’t been just the maternal images that drew him. She had a passionate nature that set him on fire. Even now, the memories turned him inside out.

But the more they’d argued, the more he’d realized how shaky their foundation had been.

“What did you want to know?”

“We didn’t talk much at all in the hospital.” Her blue eyes held his for an electric instant before she looked away.

“The doctor’s orders. And things were hectic, with Thomas’s physical therapists and your tests.” He’d been pulled in two different directions even though he’d taken time off from work, passing over control of his construction firm to his second in command until he had his family in order. Seeing her so helpless in the hospital had sucker punched him. Their love for each other might have died, but they still shared a history, an attraction, and now a child. His need for the picture-perfect family had destroyed their marriage and their love for each other.

But he owed it to her to take care of her while she healed and while they figured out how to parent Thomas.

“I’m not blaming anyone,” she said quickly. “I’m just trying to fill in the blanks so I can function. I felt so...limited in the hospital.”

He wouldn’t sabotage her recovery. The doctors had said she shouldn’t push to remember, and he planned to honor that directive. He wasn’t that ruthless, no matter what his competitors said. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to squander this chance to convince her to stay.

He would do whatever it took to keep her in this family. He wasn’t interested in being a part-time father, and had never been, even when he’d agreed to sign those damn divorce papers. He’d regretted that decision the moment he’d made it. How could he have the family he needed if he let his wife walk away? Even then, regardless of their problems, he’d wanted things to go back to the way they’d been in the beginning.

He didn’t know what had gone wrong, what more she expected of him. And now that she couldn’t remember their life together, he might not ever find out. “The doctor wanted to see how much you recalled on your own. We didn’t want you to confuse memories with things you’d been told.”

“Maybe hearing about us might help jog those memories.”

He noticed she didn’t mention the whole trust issue again. Did that mean she’d put it on the back burner? Or she was willing to take him at his word?

She sure as hell hadn’t trusted him at the end of their marriage, before the accident. Would that distrust eek through even her thick fog of amnesia? He steered off the highway onto the access road to their security gate.

“Porter, I don’t have a choice but to ask you these questions. There’s no one else from my past I still have a relationship with. If I want to find out anything about these past five years, it’s you or Google.”

He chuckled darkly. “A ringing endorsement if ever I heard one.”

A smile played with her full lips. It was almost comfortable and it caused his chest to tighten. He remembered a time when he’d been able to make her smile every day, back before their relationship had deteriorated into loud fights and long silences.

“Porter, I’m not going to apologize for speaking the truth.” The smile faded. “Why didn’t anyone come see me in the hospital?”

“When the accident happened, we were far from home, picking up the baby. Our friends weren’t nearby.” And no doubt they would have felt awkward coming to visit the couple given the impending divorce. “I saved the cards from the flowers and balloons that came at the start. I’ll show you when we get home.”

She chewed that full lip. “What about phone calls to quiz people? Who can I call to help me?”

He wouldn’t isolate her, but he didn’t want to make it easy for her to take off again, either. He just wanted a little time for them to cement their relationship again, to rediscover what they’d once had—and to parent the baby they’d always wanted. They needed this time to become the family he’d always imagined they could be.

“The doctor warned you to be careful and take it slow. You’ll have to ask your physicians near the beach house. Whatever they say is good by me.” It surprised him that she hadn’t asked many questions publicly at the hospital, but whatever had held her back, now that they were alone, she was more relentless about getting answers. There was an urgency and an edge to her now that she hadn’t possessed before the accident.

Or had she kept it hidden the way she’d hidden so many of her motives in the last months of their marriage?

“So you have no trouble giving me those phone numbers? If the doctor says it’s okay.” She leaned forward, resting her arms on the back of the seat as they waited at an intersection.

“No problem at all.” People would be eager to hear from her after the accident, but they’d also be busy with the holidays. And the doctor had given them no reason to think her memory would return so soon. He needed the next two weeks’ Christmas holiday with her and their son to tell her his side of the story. To see if they could make this work. Maybe, just maybe they could build that family after all. For Thomas. “Whatever you want from me, just ask. We’re married.”

Her quick gasp brushed across his neck, and her gaze met his, her eyes wide. “Whatever I want?”

The air went hot between them. Could she see the memories in his eyes? Could she sense just how damn good they had been together? How good they could still be?

There was desire and apprehension in her eyes. Her gaze broadcast loud and clear that she might not share the same memories, but she felt their connection—and it made her nervous.

He needed to proceed carefully. He hadn’t told her about their decision to divorce. He wanted the chance to convince her to stay first. He also didn’t want her asking questions that would box him into lying—or telling a hard truth. Like the fact they hadn’t slept together for a month before the accident. “I can promise you, I’m not about to demand husbandly rights or anything else from you until you’re ready.”

“That’s for the best,” she said a little too fast. “I’m not ready for—”

“You don’t need to say anything more.” He punched in the security code to open the scrolled gates that were designed like a pewter clamshell gaping wide. Christmas lights glistened on the palm trees lining the path to the yellow stucco mansion, the glimmer growing brighter with the setting sun.

“You’ve been very understanding the past week, Porter. I know this has been difficult for you, too, and I appreciate that you’ve worked to make things as easy for me as possible.”

There was a time not so long ago she’d made it clear she felt just the opposite. She’d insisted he only wanted her as a place holder in the mother role. That any woman would have done, that he didn’t really love her and that she was damn well tired of him hiding at the office to avoid facing their problems.

He kept his silence.

“What? Did I say something wrong?”

“You’ve been through a lot the past month.” They both had. He steered toward the three-story mansion perched on an ocean bluff, holiday decor in full glory of wreaths, bows and draped garland as he’d ordered. “Of course you deserve understanding. I just want you to be clear that while I’m giving you time and space to remember your past, that doesn’t mean I won’t be trying to fill your head with happy new memories.”

Her eyes went wide again. God, she was beautiful but too frail after all she’d been through. Protective urges fired to the fore. They might not be the couple they’d been before, but he needed her to make his family complete. He would do whatever it took to woo her over these next couple of weeks. And he wouldn’t let anyone stand in his way.

He put the car in Park in front of the sweeping double staircase just as the groundskeeper stepped into another car to valet park...and...

Damn. Porter felt the sucker punch clear through to his spine.

He recognized that Maserati sports car well. Heaven help them all.

His mother had come to visit.

Two

Home sweet home?

Sorta.

Her eyes flitted to the sprawling house before them. Poinsettias lined the double staircase, adding Christmas spirit to the green and vibrant Florida winter. A giant wreath trimmed in gold and silver hung on the door, warm and inviting.

The warmth made her heart sink a bit. Had she picked out all of these decorations? Were they supposed to carry some sentimental value? She had been with Porter for almost five years. They owned years’ worth of memories and items they had collected—and all of it was a mystery to her. Taking a deep breath, she turned her attention to Thomas and his monogrammed blanket.

As she unbuckled the baby from his car seat, Alaina couldn’t miss the tension radiating from Porter. Of course he’d been under a tremendous stress, too, during this whole situation. He had just been so stalwart until now; she was surprised he let his emotions show.

Even if he’d opened up only briefly before he became the ultimate in-control guy again. Was that an act just for her? Was that how she’d preferred him to be? She’d liked seeing the emotion on his face, in his eyes. The controlled expression he wore now seemed to shut her out.

She cradled the sleeping infant in her arms, taking comfort from the scent of baby shampoo and innocence. She didn’t remember becoming a wife or a mother. She didn’t feel like a wife or a mother.

But she knew without question she would do whatever was needed to make sure this innocent life in her care felt loved and secure.

Porter opened the back door of the car, the setting sun casting a nimbus around his big body, which blocked out the rest of the world. God, he was a gorgeous hulk of man. She could see him in a painting of Atlas holding the world on those broad shoulders. He made her feel safe, protected. She could lean on him.

He propped a hand on the roof. “Are you feeling steady enough to carry the baby?”

“I’m fine, but thank you for asking.” She stepped out, her hold careful on Thomas.

Porter cupped her elbow in a steadying grasp, his touch warm and gentle, sending tingles through her. She glanced at him quickly. Did he feel it, too? What was he thinking? He had to want his wife back. She wanted that for him, but even so, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off between them. She couldn’t miss how he only answered what was needed, never offering one snippet more. And his shoulders seemed so braced, tense. Where was the joy in this homecoming?

She straightened and adjusted her hold on the baby. “Thank you. I really am okay to walk on my own.”

It was strange how she’d been in a coma for a month and yet her body acted as if she’d simply taken a long nap. She’d spent a week doing physical therapy and eating high-nutrient meals to regain strength in her muscles. Other than tiring quickly, she felt no ill effects from her ordeal. At least not physically. How surreal.

“I’ll get the car seat and diaper bag, then.” He reached to lift them out, the navy blue Burberry bag looking tiny and incongruous in his large hands. “Before we step inside, I should warn you.”

Foreboding gelled in her belly. Here it came. Whatever awful thing she’d feared her amnesia had been hiding from her. “Warn me about what?”

“My mother’s here,” he said with a heavy sigh.

She almost laughed in hysterical relief. She walked beside him toward the towering doors, inhaling a bracing breath of salty ocean breeze. “Your mom?” If he had a mother, why hadn’t she come to the hospital? That seemed strange. She hadn’t thought to question him about his family in the hospital since her memories stopped just before her relationship with Porter began. “You have a mother?”

“I wasn’t born under a rock,” he said with a sense of humor that still surprised her.

Another intriguing element to this man.

Chewing her bottom lip, Alaina eyed the door with trepidation. The gold and silver of the wreath caught in the amber sunset. “I wish you would have mentioned her arrival before now.”

“I didn’t know she was coming until I saw her car as we pulled up. It’s very distinctive.”

“Is your father here, too?”

“If so, that would be an even bigger surprise since I’ve never met the man.”

“Oh, um, I’m sorry.” Another thing about her husband she should have known.

“Thank you, but I’m long past looking for father figures around every corner. I’m looking forward to being a father.” He reached to lift out the infant seat. “Let’s go find out what coerced my mother to drive up from Miami.”

Something about the way he said that made her sad, reminding her again of all the ways this should have been a happy day for him. His family was returning home from the hospital in good health. But she again felt that their life together—whatever it was now—couldn’t be summed up that easily.

She wanted to trust him.

But something deep inside her, something beyond memory and born of instinct, held her back.

* * *

Luckily for him, his mother had been settling into her suite when he and Alaina brought Thomas into the house. His wife was in the nursery with their son now, which would give him a chance to talk to his mother alone first in his study. She needed to understand that he would toss her out on Christmas Day itself if she did one thing to upset this chance he had to win back his wife and keep his family intact.

He paced restlessly, his eyes drawn to the brass clock on his desk. What the hell was taking his mother so long? This wasn’t the best of times for unexpected company, damn it.

Wooing Alaina back into his life and into his bed was going to be tough enough without having his mother throw verbal land mines into the mix with no warning. Courtney Rutger was a shark in the courtroom and in life. Their relationship had been strained since he’d walked out at eighteen and put himself through college working construction rather than take her money.

There were too many strings attached to his mother’s gifts. The extravagant presents had clearly made Alaina uncomfortable given her less affluent upbringing and he couldn’t blame her. Still, he’d never been quite sure how to navigate the tense waters between his mother and wife.

Finally, she glided into his study in a swirl of expensive perfume and one of her favored fitted Chanel suits. She leaned toward him for an air kiss on the cheek. “Porter.”

He complied, as expected, wondering if she’d ever carried him around the way Alaina cradled Thomas. Making real contact, rather than an air kiss or half hug.

“Mom,” he answered, angling away and leaning against his desk. “Why are you here?”

“To celebrate Christmas, and to help you with your new baby and your wife.”

Help now? He wasn’t buying it. His mother had visited only on holidays during his marriage, and she hadn’t done more than come to the hospital the day after the accident. She’d seen her grandson, brought some gifts and flowers and left. She sure as hell hadn’t cooed over her grandchild, much less snapped photos on her cell phone to share with her pals. “You’ve never been interested in babies before.”

“I’ve never been a grandmother before.”

“Mother...” He raised an eyebrow impatiently.

“Son,” she answered with overplayed innocence.

“Is that what you’re about? I’m your son. I know you. And you’re not going to cause mother-in-law troubles.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, Mother, please. You’ve made it clear for years that you don’t like Alaina.” The friction between his wife and mother, which had grown over time, had added pressure to an already strained marriage. “She’s working to regain her memory and the last thing she needs is you tossing in digs or telling her things she’s not ready to hear. She needs to be kept calm and happy while she recovers. She should remember the happy times first.”

His gaze gravitated to the framed reproduction of a map of the Florida East Coast Railway from the Flagler Museum, an anniversary gift from Alaina two years ago. She’d respected his work, complimented him on being an artist in his own right through his construction company. She’d bought the gift in commemoration of another Florida builder/entrepreneur from the past.

Some people went on cruises for vacation. He and Alaina had spent their time off touring historic sites and discussing the architectural history of the buildings.

There had been good times between them... God, he missed what they’d once had.

And now he had a second chance. He wouldn’t let anything or anyone stand in his way of repairing his relationship with Alaina. Of building a family together. It was too important.

“Your wife is ill now. I understand that and will be nice. If you’re not ready for her to hear about the ‘bad memories,’ then okay. I’m here for all three of you.” Courtney clicked her manicured nails. “I do have a heart.”

She placed her hand dramatically on her chest, and gave a picture-perfect smile. It was with just such finesse that Courtney Rutger won over jury after jury—if not her son.

His mouth twitched with a smile. “That’s questionable.”

“And you’re just like me.” She winked. “Makes a mother proud.”

He shook his head. “You’re something else.”

“That’s one way to put it.” She clapped her hands together. “Now where’s my grandson?”

“He’s getting his diaper changed.”

Frowning, she smoothed back her French twist, her dark hair showing only a few threads of gray. “Then I’ll wait a couple of minutes until he’s through with that.” She hesitated, shrugging. “What? I like to watch babies nap.”

“Since when?”

“Since always. They’re easier then.” She grinned unrepentantly. “Now smile. It’s the Christmas season. Your family is under one roof. And I certainly wouldn’t have wagered a chance in hell on that happening this year.”

Neither would he.

A creak of the door snapped his attention across the room. Alaina stood in the doorway frowning. Damn it. How much had she heard? Had his mother’s strategic verbal land mines already blown his second chance all to hell? Courtney might have said she intended to respect his wishes, but he wasn’t 100 percent certain she wouldn’t try to find some way to finagle her way past on a technicality.

“Alaina?” he asked, waving her inside.

She stepped deeper into the room. “Please introduce me to your mother.” She tugged a Christmas plaid burp cloth off the shoulder of her blue cotton dress that skimmed her curves. “I’m sorry I don’t remember you, ma’am, but you’re right. We’re all lucky to be here together since I very well could have still been in that hospital bed. Or not here at all.”

He exhaled hard, grateful she’d misunderstood his mother’s comment. But he couldn’t count on continued luck. He needed to make progress with his wife and get his family back. The sooner the better.

* * *

Two hours later, Alaina opened the closet in her bedroom. Hers and Porter’s.

The space was larger than her first college studio apartment.

One side was lined with rows of Porter’s clothes, suits and casual wear, each piece hung and arranged with precision, even down to sleeve length. She walked along the row, her fingers trailing the different textures. She could almost imagine the cloth still carried the heat of the man who wore them.

A half wall sectioned the male and female side of the “closet.” Shoes fit into nooks, purses, too. And somehow she knew to push the button on the end—jewelry trays slid out in staggered lengths and heights. The stones that winked at her varied from semiprecious to mind-bogglingly expensive.

Who was she now? In this life? This house with an apartment-sized closet?

Even that thought gave her pause, reminding her that she hadn’t grown up with finer things like the ones in this house. How comfortable had she been living here? Had she grown jaded and used to these luxuries?

Glancing back at the elegant driftwood four-poster bed, she began to seriously consider their arrangements as they became reacquainted. He’d said he wouldn’t pressure her and she hoped he meant that. He couldn’t possibly think they would be sharing a bed. Not yet. In spite of the attraction that still simmered between them, she wasn’t ready for intimacy just now.

But someday?

She could barely envision getting through the night, much less through the next few weeks. She turned to the closet again and studied the racks of clothes and rows of shoes and purses and her clothes as if they could give her some hint about the woman she’d been in those missing five years. Certainly one who enjoyed shopping and bright patterns. Grasping at the clothes, she enjoyed the cool feel of the silks and satins. This closet was luxurious—the kind women might fantasize about. Alaina half hoped one of these garments would stir a memory, and the past five years of her life would come rushing back to her.

No such luck.

She released a floor-length gown with a jeweled bodice and glanced down at the simple cotton dress she wore, so different from the rest of her clothes. Had Porter packed this for a reason or had he simply grabbed the first item his hands fell on?

The cotton dress didn’t feel like the artsy sense of herself she remembered from five years ago. In fact, the house didn’t much reflect her, either. Where was her love of Renaissance art? There were no paintings or statues she would have chosen. Everything was generic, decorator style, matching sets. Had she really spent time here? Been happy?

Where had the traces of herself gone?

The sense of being watched pulled her back into the room, where she found her husband standing by the four-poster bed with a tray of food. He wore a T-shirt and jeans now, the pants low slung on his hips as if he’d lost weight recently. Perhaps he’d been worried sick about her and Thomas. She tried to imagine what the past month had been like for him, but came up empty. It was hard enough for her to grasp her own situation, let alone empathize with his when she didn’t know him beyond what the past week had shown her. But all of those interactions had been in the hospital with its sterile environment and lack of privacy. The four and a half years they’d supposedly known each other were wiped clean from her mind. Not so much as a whisper of a memory.

“I thought you might be hungry. There wasn’t much of a chance to eat with the trip home, settling Thomas and my mother’s surprise arrival.” He set the tray on a coffee table in front of the sofa at the foot of their bed. His thick muscled arms flexed, straining against the sleeves of the cotton tee. She tried not to notice, but then felt slightly absurd. He was her husband and yet a stranger all at once.

“That’s thoughtful, thank you.” She watched him pour the tea, the scent of warm apples and cinnamon wafting upward. “Between a night nanny for the baby and a full-time cook-maid, I’m not sure what I’m going to do to keep myself occupied.”

“You’ve been through a lot. You need your sleep so you can fully recover. I’m here, too. He’s my child.”

“Our child.”

“Right.” Porter’s eyes held hers as he passed over the china cup of tea with a cookie tucked on the saucer. “He needs you to be well. We both do.”

The warmth of the cup and his words seeped into her and she asked softly, “Where are you planning to sleep?”

He studied her for a slow, sexy blink before responding, “We discussed that in the car.”

“Did we?” She wasn’t certain about anything right now.

“We did.” He sat on the camelback sofa, the four-poster bed big and empty behind him as he cradled a cup of tea for himself in one hand. “But just to be clear, nothing will happen until you’re ready. You’re recovering on more than one level. I understand that and I respect that. I respect you.”

His sensitivity touched her. She should be relieved.

She was relieved.

And yet she was also irritated. She couldn’t help but notice he still hadn’t said he loved her, that he wanted her. He wasn’t pushing the physical connection that obviously still hummed between them. Was he giving her space? Was he holding back because she couldn’t possibly love a man she didn’t know? She kept hoping for some kind of wave of love at first sight. But they were fast approaching more than a few hundred sights and still that wave hadn’t hit.

Attraction? Yes. Intrigue? Definitely. But she was also very overwhelmed and still afraid of what those memories might hold. She wasn’t able to shake the sense that she couldn’t fully trust him. If only he would say the right words to reassure her and calm the nerves in the pit of her belly.

She looked around the room, everything so pristine and new looking, a beach decor of sea-foam greens, tans and white. More of the matched set style that, while tasteful, didn’t reflect her preferences in the least. “How often did we come here?”

“I have a work office in the house. So whenever we needed to.”

She set aside the tea untouched. “You’re so good at avoiding answering my questions with solid information.”

A flicker of something—frustration?—flexed his jaw. “We spent holidays here and you spent most of your summers here.”

“Then how do I not have any friends in this area?” Where were the casseroles? The welcome home cookies? Or did the überwealthy with maids and night nannies not do that for each other?

“Many people around here are vacationers. Sometimes we invited friends or business acquaintances to stay with us, but they’re back home in Tallahassee or at their own holiday vacation houses. We also traveled quite a bit, depending on my work projects.”

“So I just followed you around from construction job to job?”

“You make that sound passive. You’re anything but that. You worked on your master’s degree in art history for two years. One of your professors had connections in the consulting world and our travels enabled you to freelance, assisting museums and private individuals in artwork purchases. You did most from a distance and we flew in for the event proper when artwork arrived.”

That was the most he’d said to her at once since she’d woken from her coma. And also very revealing words. “We sound attached at the hip.”

He rested his elbows on his knees, staring into his empty teacup. “We were trying to make a baby.”

His quiet explanation took the wind right out of her sails. She’d guessed as much since they were adopting and had no other children, but hearing him say it, hearing that hint of pain in his words, made her wonder how much disappointment and grief they’d shared over the years while waiting for their son. Then to have that joy taken from them both because she couldn’t remember even the huge landmarks in their relationship that should be ingrained in her mind—when she’d met him, their first kiss, the first time they’d made love...

“And starting our family didn’t work the way we planned.”

He looked up at her again. “In case you’re wondering, the doctors pinpointed it to a number of reasons, part me, part you, neither issue insurmountable on its own, but combined...” He shrugged. “No treatment worked for us, so we decided to adopt.”

Thomas. Their child. Her mind filled with the sweet image of his chubby cheeks and dusting of blond hair. “I’m glad we did.”

“Me, too,” he said with unmistakable love.

The emotion in his voice drew her in as nothing else could have. She sat beside Porter, their shoulders brushing. It was almost comfortable. Or did she want it to be that way? So many emotions tapped at her, dancing in her veins. “He’s so beautiful. I hate that I don’t remember the first instant I laid eyes on him, the moment I became his mother.”

“You cried when the social worker at the hospital placed him in your arms. I’m not ashamed to say I did, too.”

Oh, God, this man who’d not once mentioned love could make a serious dent in her heart with only a few words. It was enough to make her want to try harder to fit into this life she didn’t remember. To be more patient and let the answers come.

She touched his elbow lightly, wanting the feel of him to be familiar, wanting more than chemistry to connect them. “This isn’t the way Christmas was supposed to be for us.”

“There was no way to foresee the accident.” He placed his hand over hers, the calluses rasping against her skin, another dichotomy in this man who could pay others to do anything for him yet still chose to roll up his sleeves.

“I never did ask how it happened. There have been so many questions I keep realizing I’ve forgotten to ask the obvious ones.”

“We picked up Thomas at the hospital. Since it was so close to our beach house, we considered staying here for the night, but instead opted to drive back home to Tallahassee. A half an hour later, a drunk driver hit us head-on.”

“We wanted our son in our own house, in his nursery.”

“Something like that.”

“What does his nursery look like at our house in Tallahassee?”

“The same as here, countryside with farm animals. You said you wanted Thomas to feel at home wherever he went. Even his travel crib is the same pattern. You even painted the same mural on the wall here.”

She remembered admiring the artwork when she’d laid the baby in his crib, enjoying the quiet farm scene with grazing cows and a full blue moon.

“I painted it?” Finally, something of herself in this house of theirs. Her eyes filled with tears. Such a simple thing. A mural for their son in their two homes—or did they have more?—and yet she couldn’t remember painting the pastoral scene. She couldn’t remember the shared joy over planning for their first child, or the shared tears.

And right now she was seconds away from shedding more tears all over the comfort of Porter’s broad chest.

When would she feel she belonged in this life?

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