“Good heavens, you mean you’re going to… um, examine her?”
“This would be a good time to sing one of those nursery rhymes. I’d rather she wasn’t thinking about what I’m doing down here.”
“Okay, horse,” Megan said cheerfully. “We’re all going to work together to have a baby now. Are you listening?”
“It’s the legs,” Pat said. “I don’t think she can deliver in this position. I can see a nose and a hoof, but the second leg is stuck. I have to ease it up beside the first one.”
The horse was grunting like mad, and Megan was nervous. “Are you sure you can do that?” she asked.
“Megan, I’ve delivered a bunch of human babies, a litter of kittens when I was ten, and I’ve read
A minute later he sat back on his heels and grinned. “I did it! A few good contractions, and it should slide right out.”
Minutes later the wobbly newborn was standing next to its mother, who licked at its wet body.
Megan’s cheeks were soaked with tears. “It’s a miracle,” she said with a gasp, choked with emotion. “I’ve never seen a birth. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”
Pat examined the mare, and pronounced her sound. Then he collapsed against the side of the stall to watch his newest patient.
“Tired?” Megan asked.
“Naw, not me. That was a piece of cake. You have any other animals you want me to deliver? A cow?Maybe an elephant?”
She sat beside him, her face glowing with love and pride. “You were wonderful.”
“You were, too. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“We’re a team.”
His gaze held hers. They were a team, he thought. In every sense of the word. And he couldn’t for the life of him imagine why the thought of marriage had frightened him.
The foal stood on spindly legs and nuzzled at its mother’s belly, searching for its first meal. It took a step forward and stumbled. It righted itself, wagged its tail, and succeeded in its search.
“It’s a beautiful baby,” Megan said proudly.
Pat grinned. He’d heard that tone of voice before, and he strongly suspected Megan would want to adopt the horse. Well, hell, if that was what she wanted… How hard could it be to adopt a horse? Probably they should get legally married first. Wouldn’t want an illegitimate horse, he thought, feeling lighthearted and foolish.
He wanted to reach out to Megan, to untie her braids and snuggle next to her in the hay, but he needed to get clean first. “I’m afraid I’m not such a neat obstetrician,” he said, ineffectually wiping his hands on a towel. “Can I use your shower?”
Megan swallowed. Patrick Hunter in her shower.Naked. What a lovely thought. If she played her cards right, she could probably get him into her bed. What the heck? she thought. He was already firmly implanted in her heart.
Yup, she was ready to dangle, to hang in there, to fight for her man. No more pouting over hurt feelings and old insecurities. She was going to convince Pat that marriage would be wonderful. Any man who could deliver a horse could live through marriage, she decided.
“Of course you can use my shower. You go ahead, and I’ll close up the barn.”
She shoveled out the soiled bedding and spread a clean layer of fresh sawdust over the stall floor. She left the lights on, knowing they’d be checking on the horses throughout the night, closed the barn door, secured the latch, and winced as wind – driven snow pelted her face and stung her eyes.
She found Pat sitting in her bed, sipping brandy, covers precariously draped across his bare hips. His hair was damp from his shower, and his smile reminded her of the Big Bad Wolf.
“I didn’t have a thing to wear,” he explained.
“Hmmm,” she said, stealing a taste of brandy. “There’s always my bathrobe.”
“No way. Last time I wore your bathrobe I got punched in the nose.”
She eased onto the bed and leaned over him.
“It’s such a cute nose, too,” she said and kissed the tip of it.
He loosened a braid. “Was that a pretend kiss?”
“Nope. No more pretending.”
“So, this is the real thing now, huh?” he asked, looking very serious.
“Yup.”
He pulled her onto his lap. “Good. I love the real thing.” His gaze softened. “And I love you.”
Megan felt the breath catch in her throat. “What?”
“I love you,” he said, feeling like the Grinch, whose heart had grown three sizes on Christmas Day
She gave a huge sigh of satisfaction. “I love you too.”
“Now that we love each other, I suppose it would be okay if I spent the night here.”
“It’ll cost ya,” she said.
His breathing grew heavy as he stared at her mouth. It was a lovely pink rosebud mouth. Soft and kissable. “What’s the price?”
She suggestively whispered an erotic payment. Then she licked her lips and mentioned an alternative, feeling smugly satisfied at the hint of movement under the blanket.
“Megan Murphy, shame on you. That’s very naughty.”
She turned the cover back. “Don’t you want to pay my price?” she asked, all innocence.
“I suppose I’ll have to, but only if you’ll marry me. I have my reputation to think of. I have morals and principles.”
“I wouldn’t want to besmirch your reputation. And I certainly wouldn’t want to trample on your morals and principles.”
He unbuttoned her flannel shirt. “In case you’re wondering, that was a proposal. A very serious, very binding proposal.”
She drew back and looked at him. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.”
“Would a Christmas wedding be too soon?”
“A Christmas wedding would be too late. I intend to consummate this union immediately. And now, Megan Murphy – Hunter, I’m going to follow your erotically imaginative suggestions and deliver payment in full!”
About the Author
Bestselling author JANET EVANOVICH is the winner of the New Jersey Romance Writers Golden Leaf Award and multiple Romantic Timesawards, including Lifetime Achievement. She is also a long-standing member of RWA.
“Romance novels are birthday cake and life is often peanut butter and jelly. I think
