Stella Bagwell - Just For Christmas

Dear Diary,

It’s no secret that my family has had their share of problems lately. Especially where baby Cody is concerned. But I refuse to be glum. Abby’s wedding is only days away and the preparations are transforming the mansion into a Christmas wonderland. What a joy it’s going to be to see my daughter marrying the man she loves!

And have I mentioned that Jake is coming home? I’m not sure if he’s returning to Austin to play Santa Claus or Daddy, but I’ll wonder about his reasons later. Right now, the gift of having my son in my arms again is enough for this mother.

Yes, diary, it appears my holiday wishes are beginning to come true. Now if this season of love could also work some sort of miracle and bring Hope and Drake Logan back together again, I would count this a very merry Christmas….

Megan

Dear Reader,

There’s never a dull moment at Maitland Maternity! This unique and now world-renowned clinic was founded twenty-five years ago by Megan Maitland, widow of William Maitland, of the prominent Austin, Texas, Maitlands. Megan is also matriarch of an impressive family of seven children, many of whom are active participants in the everyday miracles that bring children into the world.

As our series begins, the family is stunned by the unexpected arrival of an unidentified baby at the clinic—unidentified, except for the claim that the child is a Maitland. Who are the parents of this child? Is the claim legitimate? Will the media’s tenacious grip on this news damage the clinic’s reputation? Suddenly, rumors and counterclaims abound. Women claiming to be the child’s mother materialize out of the woodwork! How will Megan get at the truth? And how will the media circus affect the lives and loves of the Maitland children—Abby, the head of gynecology, Ellie, the hospital administrator, her twin sister, Beth, who runs the day care center, Mitchell, the fertility specialist, R.J., the vice president of operations—even Anna, who has nothing to do with the clinic, and Jake, the black sheep of the family?

Please join us each month over the next year as the mystery of the Maitland baby unravels, bit by enticing bit, and book by captivating book!

Marsha Zinberg

Senior Editor and Editorial Co-ordinator, Special Projects

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For as long as she can remember, Stella Bagwell has loved to read. Add that to being an incurable romantic and she definitely happened onto the perfect job fifteen years ago when she became a full-time romance writer. Now, over forty novels later, she still finds her job a joy and a challenge.

Being married to her high school sweetheart for twenty-nine years has taught Stella much about the staying power of true love. She and her husband live in the beautiful mountains of southeastern Oklahoma and they consider the fifteen mile trip into town a small price to pay for the solitude they enjoy. They have one grown son who lives in Texas, where he teaches high school math and coaches football.

To two of my most faithful fans, my sisters-in-law, Dorothy and Denise, with much love.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

EPILOGUE

HOPE LOGAN GLANCED at her wristwatch, then out the open door of the gift shop to the main waiting area of Maitland Maternity Clinic. Noon hour had cleared most of the personnel from the building, but she didn’t have to wonder if her husband would be in his office. As the vice president of finance, Drake was a busy man who rarely took time to eat a sandwich at his desk, much less leave the building for a leisurely meal.

Hope had to see him today. She couldn’t put it off any longer. But she dreaded walking into his office. Since he’d moved out of their home two months ago, she hadn’t asked him for anything. And she wasn’t at all sure how he’d react to her request. But good or bad, she was soon going to find out.

She glanced over her shoulder at her young assistant, who was arranging a row of teddy bears on a display shelf. “Can you handle things for a few minutes, Tess?”

“Sure, Hope. Take your time.”

Time. The word stayed with Hope as she left the gift shop and walked across the quiet waiting area to the elevator doors. For the past several months, she’d felt each tick of the clock as it chipped away at her fertile years. At thirty-two, she wasn’t getting any younger. Yet she was no closer to having a child of her own than she had been at twenty-two. The miscarriage she’d suffered had risked her life, and Drake refused to consider another pregnancy. Not only had she lost her baby, but her husband, too. She shook the depressing thoughts from her mind. Right now she had a more immediate problem to deal with.

On the second floor Hope headed down a long corridor until she reached a door with a gold nameplate that read Vice President Drake Logan.

Even though she’d walked slowly, her heart was pounding. She breathed deeply and prayed she would appear calm and in control once she was facing her husband. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was crumbling without him.

When Hope entered the office, Juanita, Drake’s longtime secretary, was busy at a computer. She hit several buttons on the keyboard before she glanced up to see who was standing beside her desk.

“Hope! How nice to see you!”

Hope gave the older woman a rueful smile. “How are you, Juanita?”

The secretary folded her hands on top of her desk and gave Hope her full attention. “I’m doing well. I’ve missed seeing you these past few weeks.”

In a nervous gesture, Hope pushed a hand through her hair. “I’m still running the gift shop. I’m here in the clinic every day.”

Juanita’s smile was full of concession. “That’s not the same as you dropping by the office for a visit.”

The older woman’s keen black eyes took stock of Hope’s pale face and loose-fitting clothes. In spite of the brave front Hope tried to present to her friends, everyone in the clinic knew she was grieving over her separation from Drake. Everyone except Drake, she thought sadly.

“You’ve lost weight,” Juanita said gently.

Hope gave a negligible wave of her hand. “I needed to. My clothes were getting too snug. This way I’ll have plenty of room to eat for Christmas.”

She glanced across the small room to the closed door leading into Drake’s private office. At this moment she’d rather venture into a den of lions. “Is he busy?”

Juanita smiled wryly. “Some things never change. But at least he’s alone. Go on in,” she urged.

On shaky legs, Hope left the secretary’s desk and crossed the expanse of carpet to Drake’s office. His deep voice immediately answered her brief knock.

“Come in.”

Opening the door, Hope stepped inside the all too familiar room with its comfy leather armchairs and shelves of books and mementos. Drake was behind his desk, and for a moment she said nothing, letting her eyes drink in the precious sight of him.

Even now, after all the pain he’d put her through, she still had to admit he was the most impressive-looking man she’d ever known. Thick, light brown hair lay in unruly waves above his ears, long enough in the back to tease the top of his collar. A wayward hank was always falling forward onto his wide forehead, which was more often wrinkled in a scowl than a smile. Sandy brown brows and long lashes framed a pair of eyes as green as a tropical sea.

His face was lean and angular, his lips full and well defined. The strong lines of his nose and cheekbones belied a trace of Choctaw blood, handed down through his father’s side of the family.

Hope had always considered Drake’s features a bit too rugged to call him classically handsome. But coupled with an athlete’s body and a strong masculine presence, his looks were positively potent. So potent that the sight of him never failed to stir Hope, even after ten years of marriage.

“What is it?” he asked, not bothering to look up from the file he was studying.

“I need to talk to you, Drake.”

At the sound of her voice, Drake’s head jerked up. As his startled gaze collided with hers, he slowly closed the manila folder and lowered it to the desktop.

“Hello, Hope,” he said blandly.

Since Drake had moved out of their home, Hope had barely spoken with him. They’d had to put on a good front at the wedding of their friends, R.J. and Dana, and both had attended the Maitland family’s Thanksgiving dinner. Unlike Hope, Drake didn’t seem to be suffering any ill effects from their separation. His trim body looked just as fit as ever.

Trying to ignore the painful longing pouring through her, she returned his greeting.

“Hello, Drake.”

Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on the desktop. Hope’s gaze followed the movement of his broad shoulders beneath his pinstripe dress shirt.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” he said frankly.

She pressed her dry lips together and silently prayed once again for her heart to slow its frantic pace. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than fainting in front of Drake. He’d think he was the reason. And he’d be right.

“I’m sure you are.”

Her short reply put a twist to his lips. “Are you going to keep standing there by the door or are you going to sit down?”

If she had a choice, Hope would rather remain by the door, away from him, but given the purpose of her visit, that would make her look ridiculous.

Taking a seat in one of the cordovan leather armchairs, she forced herself to cross her legs and ease back as though seeing him again was no more unusual than chatting with an old friend.

“So what’s brought you up here today?” he asked. “Do you need more money?”

Inwardly she flinched. Drake had always believed money and things were important to her. But he was the one who’d been brought up in a wealthy family. He was the one accustomed to having most anything he wanted. Not Hope. All she’d ever wanted was a family. Someone to love. Someone to fill the void she’d experienced growing up without anyone except an irresponsible mother.

“I’m not here for financial reasons. We both know you’ve made sure I have plenty of money,” she reminded him, trying to hide the deep resentment she was feeling.

A frown of frustration marred his features. “Then what do you need, Hope? I have a meeting in fifteen minutes with Megan and Ellie. I don’t want to keep them waiting.”

She wanted to remind him that he’d kept her waiting for months now, but her throat was suddenly so tight she didn’t know whether she could continue to breathe, much less speak.

“I need you, Drake.”

THE SIMPLE WORDS were not what Drake had been expecting to hear, and for a moment he felt as if someone had whacked him in the middle of the chest.

As he tried to regain his breath, his gaze covertly slid over the luscious sight of her. Hope was just as beautiful now as she had been ten years ago when she’d become his wife. Her honey-blond hair was thick and straight and swished against the top of her shoulders. Her skin was as creamy and luminescent as a pearl. And her lips. He didn’t want to think about their sweet fullness, any more than he wanted to think of her long legs wrapped around his, her soft, slender body urgently pressed against him.