Read Not a Marrying Man Online
Authors: Miranda Lee
Not a Marrying Man (19 page)
‘I thought I detected an Australian accent,’ Gloria said, smiling at Amber. ‘I’ve always wanted to go to Australia.’
Amber glanced up at Warwick, who shrugged his resignation over what he had to do.
And so it was, that on a brilliantly sunny day in the first week in November on Wamberal Beach, Amber Roberts became Mrs Warwick Kincaid, the simple ceremony watched by only a small group of family and friends. Max was the best man, of course, with Tara a stunningly beautiful matron of honour. But not as beautiful as the bride, in Warwick’s opinion. Amber shone that day with a radiance and joy that transcended her physical beauty. He was so proud of her.
They didn’t have a traditional sit-down reception afterwards, choosing to celebrate with a more informal pool party at Max’s home.
Gloria, whom Warwick had flown over for the occasion, said it was the best wedding she’d ever been to.
Still, by the time Warwick and Amber flew off on
their honeymoon—they’d chosen a secluded and exclusive island resort up in the Whitsunday passage—both of them were happy to be alone. The last few months had been a rather stressful time, what with Warwick having had his vasectomy reversed, then having to wait to see if it had worked. Amber had not yet fallen pregnant and it worried Warwick that he would not be able to give her what she wanted most in the world—and what he wanted too.
So it was a highly concerned Warwick who awaited the result of another pregnancy test, which Amber took on the last day of their three-week honeymoon. Her period was only a week late, so it was possibly too early to have a definitive result.
Still.
His heart was thudding loudly in his chest by the time she emerged from the bathroom.
‘Well?’ he asked, unable to read the somewhat blank expression on her face.
‘It went blue,’ she said. ‘Very blue.’
‘Which means? ‘
‘I’m pregnant, Warwick. We’re going to have a baby!’
Warwick couldn’t speak, a huge lump forming in his throat. Amber hurried over to where he was standing by the bed and wrapped her arms around his waist.
‘You don’t have to say anything,’ she murmured, and laid her head against his chest. ‘I know exactly how you feel.’
Excerpt from Amber’s new year diary, started late in her twenty-sixth year, well after she became Mrs Kincaid, and the mother of a girl.
I haven’t had much time to write in you lately, diary. Having a baby is very … time-consuming. You know, I thought I’d be able to handle being a mother just fine. I was so organised. By the time I went into labour, we’d finished redecorating the B & B at Wamberal into the most beautiful family home, with one of the guest bedrooms upstairs being turned into the prettiest pink nursery—we knew we were having a girl. But shortly after I brought little Kate home from hospital, I found myself crying one day and unable to stop. Poor Warwick didn’t know what to do. He rang Tara, who had a new baby of her own. Another boy, named Lachlan. She said what I needed was some temporary help with the baby, but not a professional nanny: someone who cared about me. She suggested my mother. I was doubtful, but Warwick rang Mum anyway and she was up here in a flash. Turns out I had a mild case of post-natal depression. Mum recognised it straight away because
she apparently suffered from it very badly after having me. She told me that she’d been totally unable to care for me and that Aunt Kate had taken me right away to her place for almost three months. Fortunately, I wasn’t as bad as that. Still, it explained to me why Mum didn’t have the same bonding with me that she had with my brothers. But you know what? During the last month of her staying here and helping me with Katie, we’ve become so close. Warwick’s opinion of her has gone full circle, too. He thinks she’s marvellous and says so all the time. Of course, Mum goes to mush and even blushed once or twice. If I hadn’t witnessed it for myself I wouldn’t have believed it. She’s going home tomorrow and I’m going to miss her heaps. But it will be nice to have my darling Katie to myself again. She’s just so adorable. Warwick says she’s a clone of me but I can see him in her eyes. And she’s much longer than I was as a baby. Or so my mum says. She’s going to be tall—and very smart. She’s already smiling and I’m sure it’s not gas! Warwick said he’s not going to spoil her, but you only have to see all the toys he’s already bought to know that he’s going to be putty in her hands. I thought Max loved his children but when I see Warwick hold Katie there’s something extra special in his eyes, something miraculous.
That’s what he always calls her: his little miracle.
When I think about all that’s happened, I’m sure he’s absolutely right.
All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.
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First published in Great Britain 2011
Harlequin Mills & Boon Limited,
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR
© Miranda Lee 2011
ISBN: 978-1-408-92543-0