The Ultimate Romance Box (6 Bestselling Romance Novels)

by Eckhart, Lorhainne

  “I will, Mamá. Please rest now. You have my word. Everything will work out the way it should.”

  “Adios, mi hijo. Te quiero.”

  “I love you too. Adios.” Stabbing the off button, he tossed it against the cushions on the plush sofa. Then he stretched, arms high in the air, and squirmed, trying to ease the tightness he felt over his entire body. He walked to the bar and refilled his glass with a double shot and lay down on the bed.

  He thought back to earlier in the day and recalled again the image he couldn’t seem to forget. The little beauty—with her masses of uncontrolled golden curls, deep-brown eyes that smiled even when her lips disagreed and a figure like that of the Venus de Milo statue—had woken too many reactions. Reactions he hadn’t expected. The grin caught him off guard. Guess the doctors were right after all. Though he’d never be able to make children, the vicious beatings obviously hadn’t made his equipment faulty.

  Didn’t matter. After his experience with Margarita, the lying bitch, he had no desire for another woman in his life. Her treachery still amazed him. Back when Mary-Anne and Felipe had visited on their honeymoon, Margarita had probed Felipe about his business and the ways one would use his facility. Then she’d talked Miguel into stopping at his brother’s In Vitro clinic to leave a sperm deposit when he’d flown to the states to be briefed before he’d left for Colombia. At the time, her coaxing lips and knowledgeable hands helped win the argument. It would be a dangerous mission, and if something happened, Margarita begged that she wanted part of him to survive.

  Miguel put his arm over his eyes and swore. Once the government had released the data of his likely death, his intended had found a new man and he’d heard nothing from her since.

  He downed the drink in one gulp and went over to get another. Slamming the glass on the table, he reached for the bottle of expensive Scotch. Blasted, devious women were all piranhas, and he wanted nothing more to do with them. From now on he would take what they offered, and treat them the way they deserved.

  His mother’s words came back to haunt him. They made him grunt… Be nice. Being nice wouldn’t win this battle.

  He thought back to his first impression of Sheri O’Connor. There had been nothing in the surrogate’s numerous e-mails and phone messages waiting for them on their return to Chile that indicated he’d be dealing with a tigress.

  Before he’d left home, he’d expected this to be simple. Pay the lady off in exchange for the baby. Regrettably, nothing comes easy. He should know that by now.

  His next move—figure out a way to get his niece and nephew to their rightful place in their father’s homeland. Just thinking about the tiny apartment and the crowded rooms where they now lived made him shudder.

  Why wouldn’t Sheri consent to giving him custody? Did she want more money and thought that by holding out, he’d up the price? Women he’d known previously fit into this avaricious scenario, but somehow, he knew she didn’t. Not every woman resembled the deceitful Margarita.

  He downed the rest of his drink and grabbing the pillow; he folded it in two, and then squashed it to fit comfortably. With his hands linked behind his head, he stared at the high ceiling and made plans.

  First, it was essential that he adopt those babies. This would be his one chance to be a Papá, and to have heirs for all the wealth he’d inherited and accumulated. After all, those babies already belonged and had a right to the family fortune. Next, he’d cut back on his working hours and learn how to be the best daddy in the world. Regrettably, there was an obstacle called Sheri O’Connor standing between him and all his dreams.

  For a man who ran a multi-million dollar conglomerate, dealt with hundreds of employees and noticed the fear of many when he walked into a room, one tiny, insignificant, impoverished American mother shouldn’t pose any problem.

  Chapter Six

  The next day when Miguel arrived at Sheri’s, he found desperation and pandemonium. Crying from inside the apartment had given him the first indication, and Sheri’s pinched, worried face when she’d opened the door to him, had clinched it.

  “What’s wrong? Why are they screaming?” He hadn’t meant to sound accusing, but he knew by the narrowing of her eyes that she’d taken it that way.

  “Do you think I’m abusing them? Give me a break. Rafael isn’t well. When he’s unhappy, so is Carrie-Anne. I’m getting him ready to take to the hospital. I just need for my friend Charly to get home, so I can leave Carrie-Anne there.” She wheeled around and headed back to the other room where it looked like an infant-insurgence had taken place. The playpen took up most of the space. Blankets, baby food dishes, half-filled bottles of milk and other toddler items filled the rest of the surfaces.

  Following behind, Miguel asked. “What’s wrong with the boy?” He put his shaky hands in his pockets to hide how much the news affected him.

  Sheri turned, and lacking artifice, gathered her wayward curls and reached for the scrunchie on her wrist. Not finding one, she twisted her tresses into a braid and dropped it behind her shoulders, leaving her face framed by the shorter curly tendrils. Without realizing how these movements had drawn attention to her body, she looked at Miguel and frowned.

  “I’ve been worried about Rafael for the last week. A few days ago, I took him to the pediatrician down the street but she’d seemed too nonchalant in my opinion. Figured he had a cold and told me to get a humidifier for his bedroom. Mind you, his symptoms lessened somewhat, and I presumed he’d gotten over whatever bothered him. Today he’s been getting increasingly worse. His color is bad, and whatever’s wrong is affecting his breathing now.”

  Command came easy to Miguel. “Come, I’ll help you with Carrie-Anne. We’ll go now. I have a driver outside.”

  Propped near the door leaned a baby’s car seat and a blanket. Sheri all but threw them at Miguel. “Okay then. Put this into the back seat. I’ll get the other one.”

  Before she could move, the phone rang. Sheri leapt to answer. “Charly, thank God. Rafael is worse, and I’m taking him to the hospital. Their Uncle Miguel is here and he’ll go with me. All I need from you is to look after Carrie-Anne.”

  Miguel hesitated to see if one car seat would be all they’d need.

  Sheri’s words to this Charly character had Miguel’s eyes narrowing. “Have I told you lately how much I adore you? Right, I’ll get everything ready for Rafael, and leave Carrie-Anne for you. She’s upset now because her brother’s been crying, but she should settle as soon as it’s quiet. And having her Charly nearby will bring back the smiles.” Sheri made a kissy sound into the receiver and hung up the phone. Her sigh of relief was huge.

  She whipped back towards Miguel lingering at the door. “My babysitter Charly will be here in a minute. Go, I’ll get Rafael ready, and we’ll meet you at the car.” Miguel didn’t need to be told twice.

  A handsome man, Sheri’s male friend Charlie no doubt, rushed passed him as he made his way down the stairs, the elevator being in use. His inclination to stop and question this guy that Sheri depended on made him hesitate, but just for a few seconds. He needed to get the funny-looking chair hooked into the back of the vehicle for his sick nephew. He only hoped the driver knew how the hell it worked.

  Chapter Seven

  As Miguel watched, Sheri stared at the pediatric cardiologist, a stunned expression covering her face. “How can he have a congenital heart defect, and me not know about it before this? I took him to a local doctor a week ago, and she never said a thing. She suggested a humidifier and putting saline solution in his nostrils to help clear the passage. I followed her instructions. I thought he had a cold. That it was putting him off his food, and making his breathing raspy.” Tears gushed as she spoke. They dripped off her cheeks, becoming lost under the lace at the top of her blouse.

  In a matter of seconds, Sheri’s face changed from natural and glowing to pure white. He caught her before she hit the floor and guided her to the chair. She gazed upwards, pleading for consolation, assurance that everyth
ing wasn’t as bad as it seemed. An expression appeared that every man instinctively recognized. Do something!

  He did what came naturally and took control. “What exactly needs to be done to help the boy?”

  The attractive woman turned to Miguel, and covered her assessment with professionalism. “First step is x-rays, then a number of tests including an electrocardiogram to confirm that the diagnosis is correct. Eventually surgery if what I suspect turns out to be true. It’s unfortunate we can’t do anything until the antibiotics we’ve administered have a chance to work on clearing what’s turned into pneumonia.”

  “How long will that take?” Miguel questioned, expecting immediate answers.

  “A few days, maybe less, depending on how fast the drugs take affect.”

  “Is there a qualified surgeon on staff?”

  The doctor’s eyes narrowed, and then she shrugged. “We are a large hospital, and there is more than one cardiologist who works in the OR. I’d recommend you request Dr. Marcus Patterson, who is a specialist and very well known. He’s older, with years of experience, but he doesn’t come cheap.”

  “The cost will mean nothing. I want the best for my nephew.” By narrowing his eyes, Miguel conveyed his message that money wasn’t a problem. Being nobody’s fool the woman’s manner shifted. “Then I’ll get back to you soon. For now we’re doing everything we can.” She swayed towards the door, stopped, and flashed him an assured smile that earned a respectful nod.

  Chapter Eight

  Guess I’m just not that important, Sheri decided, after first being ignored by the woman with the stethoscope, and then having to wait for what seemed like hours for the surgeon to appear. She stifled her anxiety. Miguel’s a lot more influential than I am, and right now, that’s all that matters.

  After Miguel’s insistence for the best care possible, they whisked the baby away for necessary analysis, and a young nurse had returned moments later to where she’d waited.

  “They’ve taken your son to the pediatrics wing on the fifth floor. If you follow me, I’ll take you to him. Your husband is there now.”

  Sheri shrugged, gathered her belongings, and ignored the girl’s mistake. Let her think what she wants. As long as it meant better treatment for Rafael, Sheri didn’t care.

  The young aide pushed the elevator button and smiled reassuringly. “I’m surprised that a private room became available. It’s been hellish here over the last few weeks. This heat is a brutal for many of the little ones.” Soon, she led Sheri to a beautifully bright room decorated with a small child in mind. On one of the walls an artist had painted a colorful mural of a forest vibrating with sunlight. Cheerful animals peeked out from behind lush trees and bushes. Soothed by the atmosphere, Sheri felt slightly better. The baby’s hospital bed took up the middle of the room while a nurse worked at her charts in a chair nearby.

  “You must be Rafael’s mother?” The dark-haired nurse, young and pretty, spoke in a gentle voice. “He’s resting comfortably, but will be happy to see his mommy when he wakes up.”

  “Were the tests very uncomfortable?”

  “Not at all but he missed you.” She gathered up the baby’s clothes to put into a bag, which she indicated was for Sheri, and then slipped out of the room.

  Sheri moved closer to Rafael. Her hands trembled as they reached out to her sleeping boy. She gently tucked in the blankets that swathed him. Blowing her nose once again and mopping the escaping tears, she stuck the damp tissue in her pocket to mingle with the others.

  Her fretful baby had grown listless during the drive to the hospital. Now inert, Rafael’s breath rasped with each movement of his tiny chest. Surrounded by medical paraphernalia, he appeared very ill. The tiny body looked frail and lifeless and her motherly instincts were to lift him into her arms and never let him go.

  Sheri’s despair deepened as pain pooled in her chest, which forced her stomach muscles to clench in the same way as her fists. Rafael’s tiny head covered in silky dark hair drew her lips and her hands very gently caressed his gripping fingers.

  Forcing in a deep gulp of air, she let her glance wander and the surroundings caught her attention. The windowed walls at the end of the room allowed one to see the comings and goings in the busy area of the nurse’s counter. Everything looked modern and efficient and pricey. Her hands covered her eyes and rubbed.

  With the best of intentions, Miguel had begun a different kind of a nightmare for her to agonize over. How was she going to pay for Rafael’s care? She knew medical expenses could bankrupt most people, and Miguel’s demands to have the very best would leave her in a terrible mess. Since basic insurance was all her budget allowed, she would need to deal with this situation eventually. She’d see Felipe’s business partner, Philip Knowles, and find out about the settlement for the children from their father’s half of the business. Until then, she guessed she’d have to leave the money worries to their rich uncle.

  Just then, Miguel scared the hell out of her by coming up unnoticed and touching her shoulder. She jumped a foot and glared her resentment.

  “Don’t sneak up on me.” Strain made her voice break.

  “I’m sorry, Sheri. I didn’t want to disturb the boy. I forget about my military training. Does he have everything he needs? I’ve left instructions that they aren’t to quibble over anything; I want him to have the very best.”

  “They’ve got him connected to oxygen and he’s being monitored by different instruments, which all make him look so pitiful, I want to rip them off and take him in my arms.”

  Her voice broke and she buried her face in her hands. Before she knew how it happened, he’d pulled her close to his body and she fit perfectly. His arms wrapped around her back and he cradled her like one would with a beloved friend or relative. His husky voice, deeply accented, spoke low, mesmerising. The sound vibrated from the top of her head to the tips of her curled up toes, creating tingles that soon turned to shivers of delight.

  “I know how you feel. I’d give anything to take the little fellow away from this if I could, but we cannot. I’ll stay with you and we’ll see this through together. Neither you nor Rafael will be left alone to deal with this disaster.”

  Chapter Nine

  For the next while, Sheri’s days and nights were full to bursting. Caring for her sick child with the help of a special nurse, receiving calls from Charly every few hours to cheer her up and taking taxis home periodically to feed and care for her daughter became her routine for the days.

  Each night she slept in the hospital room on the cot made available to her. A few times, she awoke to find Miguel sprawled in the room’s single, uncomfortable chair sound asleep. During this nightmare of agonizing worry, she learned one important lesson—South American men had loving natures and big warm hearts.

  Earlier she’d returned to the hospital room to find the big man wearing a blue mask and gown cuddling her baby in his arms, both sleeping, nestled in the chair and looking content. He’d obviously taken care with all the tubes and had moved the chair as close to the crib as he possibly so as not to disturb anything vital.

  Seeing this, Sheri’s heart thudded to a stop, and restarted in a new rhythm. A rhythm with warmth and caring for a strong decent man whose recent ill-health still showed clearly.

  Later, during a quiet moment, she’d gotten up the nerve to ask him if he’d suffered an illness, and why he and his mother had been away from Chile when Felipe and Mary-Anne were killed. She’d recoiled at the haunted anguish he couldn’t hide. Seeing him so troubled made her feel weepy and very sad. Sickness started to flare deep in her stomach and the discomfort spread to her heart. Her hand rose to clutch her throat and she had to swallow a number of times before her next words sounded normal.

  “It’s okay. Don’t talk about what happened.” Her clenched fist thumped her chest more than once. “I know in here that it had to be something drastic that kept you away from your brother’s funeral.”

  His lengthy penetrating stare triggered
embarrassment, until his sudden smile disarmed it and had her smiling in return. Sheri had never known a man like Miguel who had the power to make her react the way he did.

  During her afternoon trip to the apartment, she’d opened her laptop and scrolled through the photographs Mary-Anne had sent to her during her honeymoon with Felipe. The pictures of her brother-in-law were like those of a different person. The gaunt, lean physique sitting across from her now in no way resembled the man of two years ago. Neither did the smiling features of a happy guy satisfied with his life resemble the cynical, haunted face of the male she now watched.

  She looked over at the tall man folded into the small lumpy chair and smiled, then tried to hide it behind her hand. Arrayed the way he was, he looked rather endearing.

  “You like me suffering, don’t you Chica? I can see you trying to conceal your amusement.” He teased, his accent noticeable, and she relaxed even more.

  “It’s not that. You could take the bed, and I’d rest in the chair. I wouldn’t mind.” As she snuggled into the pillow, she grabbed at the mass of flyaway hair and wound the works under her head. Darn stuff! She loved long hair, if only it were more manageable and not so flippin’ curly.

  He watched her and she saw him grin. “You need your sleep, Sheri. Rafael isn’t used to me yet, otherwise I would stay, and you’d go home for a good night’s rest. You’re exhausted.”

  She loved the sound of his accent when tenderness dominated. “I’m not leaving my son for a whole night, Miguel. If I didn’t need to be with Carrie-Anne every day, I’d never leave him at all.”

  His face softened. “You’re a wonderful mother, Sheri. I see how much you care about your babies.”