A Daddy For Christmas: Yuletide Baby Surprise / Maybe This Christmas...? / The Sheriff's Doorstep Baby. Alison Roberts

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      When did she ever get to relax? “Sounds to me like you traveled quite a bit in your life. I’m sure you know that losing things during travel is as common as jet lag, even for adults.”

      “You’re kind to make excuses.” She brushed aside his explanation. “I just learned to make lists and structure my world more carefully.”

      “Such as?” he asked, suddenly finding the need to learn more about what shaped her life every bit as important as tasting her lips again.

      “Always sitting in the same seat on an airplane. Creating a routine for the transatlantic trips, traveling at the same time.” She shrugged her elegant shoulders. “The world seemed less confusing that way.”

      “Confusing?” he repeated.

      She chewed her bottom lip, which was still glistening from a sip of coffee. “Forget I said anything.”

      “Too late. I remember everything you say.” And what a time to realize how true that was.

      “Ah, you’re one of those photographic-memory sorts. I imagine that helps with your work.”

      “Hmm...” Not a photographic memory, except when it came to her. But she didn’t need to know that.

      “I’m sure my routines sound a bit overboard to you. But my life feels crazy most of the time. I’m a princess. There’s no escaping that fact.” She set her mug down carefully. “I have to accept that no matter how many lists I make, my world will never be predictable.”

      “Sometimes unpredictable has its advantages, as well.” He ached to trace the lines of her heart-shaped face and finish with a tap to her chin.

      Her throat moved in a long swallow. “Is this where you surprise me with another kiss?”

      He leaned in, a breath away, and said, “I was thinking this time you could surprise me.”

      She stared back at him so long he was sure she would laugh at him for suggesting such a thing, especially out in public. Not that the public problem bothered the honeymooners at the next table. Just when Rowan was certain she would tell him to go to hell—

      Mari kissed him. She closed those last two inches between them and pressed her lips to his. Closemouthed but steady. He felt drunk even though he hadn’t had anything but coffee and fruit juice all evening. The same drinks he tasted on Mari’s lips. Her hands, soft and smooth, covered his on the table. Need, hard and insistent, coursed through his body over an essentially simple kiss with a table between them.

      And just that fast, she let go, pushing on his chest and dropping back into her chair.

      A flush spread from her face down the vee of her blouse. “That was not... I didn’t mean...”

      “Shhh.” He pressed a finger to her lips, confidence singing through him along with the hammering pulse of desire. “Some things don’t need to be analyzed. Some things simply are. Let’s finish supper so we can turn in early.”

      “Are you propositioning me?” Her lips moved under his finger.

      Deliberately seductive? Either way, an extra jolt of want shot through him, a want he saw echoed in her eyes.

      He spread his arms wide. “Why would you think that?” he asked with a hint of the devil in his voice. “I want to turn in early. It’s your night with the baby.”

      The tension eased from her shoulders and she smiled back, an ease settling between them as they bantered. God, she was incredible, smart and lithe, earnest and exotic all at once. He covered her hand with his—

      A squeal from the next table split the air. “Oh, my God, it’s her.” The honeymooner at the next table tapped her husband’s arm insistently. “That princess...Mariama! I want a picture with her. Get me a photo, pretty please, pookie.”

      Apparently the mama-flage had stopped working. They didn’t have until the morning for Mari to become comfortable with the renewed public attention. The story about them taking care of a baby—together—was about to leak.

      Big-time.

      * * *

      Two hours later, Mari patted Issa’s back in the bassinet to be sure she was deeply asleep then flopped onto the bed in the hotel suite she shared with Rowan.

      Alone in her bedroom.

      Once that woman shouted to the whole restaurant that a princess sat at the next table, the camera phones started snapping before her head could stop reeling from that impulsive kiss. A kiss that still tingled all the way to the roots of her hair.

      Rowan had handled the curious masses with a simple explanation that they were watching a baby in foster care. More information would be forthcoming at a morning press conference. Easy as pie.

      Although she was still curious as to where all the bodyguards had come from. She intended to confront her father about that later and find out why he’d decided to disregard her wishes now of all times.

      Granted, she could see the wisdom in a bit more protection for Issa’s sake and she liked to think she would have arranged for something tomorrow...on a smaller scale. The guards had discreetly escorted her from the restaurant, along with Rowan and the baby, and all the way back to the hotel. No ducking into bathrooms or racing down hallways. Just a wall of protection around her as Rowan continued to repeat with a smile and a firm tone, “No further comment tonight.”

      Without question, the papers would be buzzing by morning. That press conference would be packed. Her father’s promo guru couldn’t have planned it better.... Had Rowan known that when they kissed? Did he have an agenda? She couldn’t help but wonder since most people in her life had their own agendas—with extras to spare.

      This was not the first time the thought had come to her. By the time she’d exited the elevator, she was already second-guessing the kiss, the flirting, the whole crazy plan. She knew that Rowan wanted her. She just couldn’t figure out why.

      Until she had more answers, she couldn’t even consider taking things further.

      She sat up again, swinging her legs off the side of the bed. Besides, she had a baby to take care of and a phone call to make. Since Issa still slept blissfully in the lacy bassinet after her bottle, Mari could get to that other pressing concern.

      Her father.

      She swiped her cell phone off the teak end table and thumbed auto-dial...two rings later, a familiar voice answered and Mari blurted out, “Papa, we need to talk....”

      Her father’s booming laugh filled the earpiece. “About the boyfriend and the baby you’ve been hiding from me?”

      Mari squeezed her eyes shut, envisioning her lanky father sprawled in his favorite leather chair on the lanai, where he preferred to work. He vowed he felt closer to nature out there, closer to his country, even though three barriers of walls and guards protected him.

      Sighing, she pressed two fingers to her head and massaged her temples. “How did you hear about Rowan and Issa? Have you had spies watching СКАЧАТЬ