Pregnancy Countdown. Linda Randall Wisdom

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      Chapter One

      Nora Summers thought about how the day was meant to be spent. She would have been dressed in a lovely lilac gown with a circlet of flowers on her head. She would have been watching her best friend get married. She would have spent the afternoon eating cake, drinking champagne and dancing. She would have joined her friends in trying to catch the bridal bouquet and she would have cried happy tears as she watched her best friend and her new husband leave on their honeymoon.

      Instead, today she bid a last goodbye to her beloved grandmother.

      Nora’s flight home was delayed for almost six hours. The airport was quiet as the cranky passengers disembarked.

      “I’ll be home soon,” she murmured to herself as she trudged up the corridor toward the terminal interior. “I will be in my very lovely soft bed where I will indulge in lots of sleep.”

      She moved past people waiting for the arrivals. She stopped short when a familiar figure straightened up from a leaning position against a pillar and walked toward her.

      Nora decided she was dreaming. Men wearing tuxedos weren’t a normal sight at airports at 1:00 a.m. Especially not this particular man whose wardrobe consisted of blinding Hawaiian-print shirts and shorts or jeans.

      “Hey, Nora.” His smile was dazzling against his tanned skin. He reached out and took her carry-on bag from her, then switched it to his left hand while circling her waist with his right. He kissed her gently on the forehead.

      She wrapped her arms around him. She felt the strength of his body under his clothing. There was comfort in the familiar lime scent mingled with the warm aroma of his skin. Hints of different perfumes were added to the mix. She guessed Mark had been a very popular guy at the wedding.

      “Mark, what are you doing here?” She was tired enough to feel bewildered by his unexpected appearance.

      “Ginna mentioned what time your flight was due in,” he explained as they walked through the terminal. “I thought you might appreciate a ride home.”

      “I do appreciate it,” she admitted. “But my flight was delayed for almost six hours. You haven’t been here all that time, have you?”

      “Funny thing about airport terminals. They’re loaded with coffee kiosks and bars with wide-screen televisions.”

      Nora shook her head trying to dislodge the fuzz clinging to her brain. Weariness was making it difficult for her to think clearly.

      “Where are your baggage-claim tickets?” Mark asked.

      “I only have my carry-on.” She gestured to the bag he held in his hand.

      “How did you manage that? When Ginna goes away for more than a day she requires at least two suitcases.”

      “I only needed a black dress,” Nora said dully. She was tired enough to take a nearby chair, curl up in it and go to sleep.

      Mark squeezed her shoulder, offering silent comfort as they walked toward the entrance.

      “I’m impressed.” She looked him over from head to toe. “What threats were used to get you into formal wear?”

      He moved off a couple paces. He spread his arms out wide and cocked one hip in a fashion-model’s pose.

      “Like it? It was my wedding gift to Gin. Plus she said if I showed up at her wedding wearing my favorite shirt she’d personally burn every piece of clothing in my closet. Since she’d been in a pretty crazy mood the past few weeks, not to mention she always backs up her threats, I wasn’t taking any chances.”

      Nora nodded. She knew her friend would have done exactly that. “She’d invite everyone over for a barbecue and marshmallow roast.”

      Mark winced. “Yeah, she does have that cruel streak.” He again flashed a smile that weakened many a woman’s knees, including Nora’s once upon a time.

      They were silent as they exited the terminal and headed for the parking lot.

      Mark stopped at an elegant-looking Jaguar sedan and unlocked the passenger door for Nora before going around back to open the trunk and set her carry-on bag inside.

      “Your father let you take one of his cars?” She slid onto the buttery-soft leather seat.

      “He said you should be picked up in style. I won’t tell you what he said will happen if I get so much as a microscopic scratch on it,” he added ruefully as he slid onto the driver’s seat.

      Nora smiled. She knew Lou Walker, Mark’s father, only too well. The older man was an expert in the art of restoring classic automobiles. His family liked teasing him that he treated his vehicles like СКАЧАТЬ