She had to give her mother credit. Vivienne didn’t say a word as Mirabella filled her in on her wild story—from the moment she’d discovered she was pregnant and had knocked on Marc’s door. Her mother had reacted accordingly, her eyes growing wide and lips forming a thin line, but she kept her promise to remain quiet and allowed Mirabella to finish.
She explained about Lincoln, how he’d approached her at the airport, sympathised with her over Marc’s betrayal and offered to take her to Hamilton Island. Mirabella didn’t leave out a single detail, sharing the story while Vivienne kept herself busy by preparing dinner.
As she recounted it, Mirabella could barely believe it herself. It sounded so surreal. Far-fetched. She’d only left Hamilton Island that afternoon, yet it seemed like a lifetime ago as she sat at the table in her childhood home and relished her mother’s cooking.
But when she reached the part about Lincoln refusing to love her, Mirabella burst into tears. She blamed the hormones. Vivienne pushed back her chair, rounded the table, and sat beside her. Without a word, she drew Mirabella into her arms.
She clung, the comfort of her mother’s embrace overwhelming.
‘Oh, darling … you’ve sure had an adventurous two weeks, haven’t you?’
That was the bizarre part. Had it really only been two weeks since she’d peed on that stick?
‘I guess I have,’ she admitted wryly. ‘So, tell me. What do you think?’
Vivienne exhaled as she drew away, keeping a firm grip on Mirabella’s shoulders. ‘I don’t know. About what part?’
Mirabella wiped her cheeks and managed a smile. ‘How about being a grandma?’
Vivienne grinned. Warmth returned to Mirabella’s heart as joy flooded her mother’s eyes. ‘I’m thrilled, darling. Absolutely thrilled.’
‘You don’t mind—’
Vivienne shook her head. ‘No matter how this came about, this is your baby, Mirabella. And you’re not to blame for Marc’s deception. What that man did is despicable. And you cannot let him get away without paying you what you’re owed.’
She shook her head, fear clogging her throat. ‘No. If he pays, he has rights. And one thing I am grateful for is that he won’t be in our lives messing everything up. I’m not going to push it and I have a meeting with Freya’s lawyer cousin next week.’
Vivienne pursed her lips. ‘All right. I see your point. But as for this business with Lincoln …’
Mirabella slumped in her chair. Just hearing his name made her heart ache. ‘He doesn’t want me, Mum. Seeing him again and spending time with him … It’s been the best two weeks of my life. I felt so … fulfilled with him. Like anything could happen. And it kills me that he’ll deny himself love. Absolutely kills me. He doesn’t want my child even though …’ Mirabella lifted her gaze again. ‘I believe he loves me, Mum. I really do. But what more could I have done?’
Vivienne reached for Mirabella’s hands and squeezed. ‘You put yourself out there. You told him how you felt and offered him a place in your life. There’s nothing else you could have done.’ Mirabella found herself drawn into her mother’s arms again as tears slipped down her cheeks. ‘It’s his loss and he’ll need to face that one day. He needs to overcome his demons on his own. But you can’t chase him, darling. Maybe you’ll need to let him go.’
Mirabella’s heart broke and she choked back a sob. She loved Lincoln. She loved him and could give him everything. But she had nothing left to fight with. Her mother was right. She needed to let him go.
And face her fear. She’d raise this child on her own.
‘I can do this, right, Mum? Raise this baby?’
Vivienne stroked Mirabella’s hair. ‘Of course. You’re a strong, independent woman and you don’t need a man to raise a child. This baby will be very much loved by both its mother and grandma.’
Mirabella smiled and her heart lightened just a little. ‘I love you, Mum.’
‘And I love you, baby girl. I know you will be all right.’
***
Lincoln’s hands tightened around the wrought-iron banister as he stood on the balcony and stared out over Sydney Cove. Lights from yachts and ferries dotted the dark, glistening water while the Sydney Harbour Bridge stood illuminated in the distance. Behind him, his five-bedroom, architecturally designed home was lit up like a beacon.
And empty.
He blew out his breath and dropped his gaze to the dense, manicured gardens below. He couldn’t believe how he’d left things with Mirabella. Last night had been torture, lying beside her in the swag, warmth radiating from every inch of her beautiful body. She’d managed to sleep, but he hadn’t as he’d stared through the open tent to the dark sky above. Breakfast had also been a quiet affair before he’d escaped back to the reef and she’d sat in solitude on the upper deck. Then they’d returned to Hamilton Island, collected their bags, and boarded the plane home. It’d been the longest flight of his life as she’d sat with her nose in a book and he’d tried to catch up on lost sleep. Then they’d collected their luggage and he’d put her in a taxi to her mother’s house.
They’d tried to keep things light with a half-hearted ‘let’s keep in touch’, but Lincoln wasn’t sure he could. Because, dammit, he did love her. He loved Mirabella with all his heart. He always had.
And if he loved her, then why was he afraid he wouldn’t love her child?
Lincoln shook his head. He’d asked that question constantly these past twenty-four hours. He wished with every fibre of his being that he had the faith to try. Surely, he wouldn’t make the same mistakes that Eric had. But doubt continued to consume him. He didn’t have any other role model. He knew that love between adoptive parents and children existed. And if he could just witness that and find a little faith then maybe …
His heart sank. He had to stop. If he continued to stress over it, he’d drive himself insane. So, he left the balcony doors open as he turned his back on the view and stepped into his lonely ensuite. He showered off the travel before slipping naked between the sheets.
But sleep did nothing to ease his pain and he woke feeling even more furious with himself. Tossing his legs over the edge of the bed, he ran his hands down his face. He needed to forget about her. Forget about Mirabella and her baby, and move on.
Lincoln dressed, downed Vegemite toast for breakfast, then went to visit Eric.
He pulled up outside Eric’s Bellevue Hill manor—the house Lincoln had grown up in until he’d moved to boarding school. He didn’t have bad memories of this place, but there certainly hadn’t been any warm, happy ones since his mother had died.
Lincoln stepped out of his Mercedes and a whole new ache formed inside his chest as he strode up the flagstone path. He knocked and the door opened to reveal a tall, aging man dressed in dark slacks and a business shirt even though he was supposed to be off work. But his stepfather had never been the jeans and T-shirt type and, despite everything, Lincoln knew Eric’s smile was genuine as he reached out and clapped him on the shoulder.
‘Hey! You’re back.’
Lincoln stepped inside. ‘Yeah. It’s good to see you, Eric. And that you’re well.’
‘I’m feeling good, Linc. Even though the doctor said I can’t go back to work until Monday.’
‘It never hurts to take it easy,’ Lincoln said as he followed Eric into the state-of-the-art, newly renovated kitchen. His stepfather began making coffee. Lincoln knew better than to offer help as he slipped onto a stool.
‘So, tell me about the trip.’
He gave Eric a brief rundown, told him about scuba diving and jet skiing and how beautiful the reef was. Eric listened, nodding along before placing a steaming cappuccino in front of Lincoln.
‘Sounds like you had a blast.’
‘I guess I did.’
Eric eyed him over the brim of his mug. ‘And Mirabella? Don’t tell me—’
Lincoln cut him off with a shake of his head. ‘She’s just a friend, Eric.’
‘She wasn’t back in high school.’
‘That was high school,’ he muttered into his coffee.
Eric’s eyebrows lifted. ‘And you don’t still care for her? She was always pretty, I recall. And you had quite a thing for her. When she decided to go to Melbourne … Well, I don’t remember you ever being more heartbroken. Not even when you and Jenny split.’
Lincoln’s grip tightened around the mug. He was afraid it would break. ‘Yes … but she’s pregnant, Eric.’
‘So? All the better, right?’ Eric clapped him on the shoulder again and grinned. ‘This could be your chance to have a family.’
Lincoln’s stomach churned, but Eric didn’t appear to notice his discomfort. His stepfather dropped his hand and sipped his coffee.
Lincoln placed his mug down. ‘But what if I can’t do that? What if I …’
It was Eric’s turn to frown. ‘What if you what?’
Lincoln exhaled. ‘What if I can’t love her child?’
‘What on earth makes you think you’re incapable of loving her child?’
‘Because—’ Lincoln swallowed ‘—you never loved me.’
Eric’s eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. ‘You … Is that what you think?’
Lincoln’s chest tightened. He and Eric both knew what their relationship was. Eric had never said the words and had only ever treated Lincoln like a good friend, but never had they seriously discussed it either.
He cleared his throat. ‘Well, yeah. You never loved me like a son, Eric. You always did right by me and I never went without. But even though we have a good relationship now and we’re friends, we can’t pretend that the lack of fatherly affection didn’t hurt me while I was growing up. And I won’t put that pain on Mirabella’s child.’
Eric stared at Lincoln, his dark eyes clouding before he dropped his gaze to his coffee. ‘I didn’t realise that it … I know you wanted more from me, Linc.’
Lincoln shook his head and sipped his cappuccino, but he didn’t taste it. ‘It doesn’t matter now.’
‘Well, clearly it does,’ he said, running his hand through his greying hair. ‘Especially if you’re willing to give up the woman you love because of it.’
‘I don’t—’
Eric rolled his eyes. ‘Yes, you do, Lincoln. You love Mirabella. You always have. So, I guess …’ He paused, frowned, then blew out his breath. ‘I guess I should tell you the truth.’
Lincoln blinked. ‘The truth?’
‘Yes. About why I could never … give you that affection.’
It was his turn to be surprised. ‘There’s a reason?’
‘Of course, there’s a reason!’ Eric blurted. ‘I’m not that cold, Linc. And I did try to be the father you needed at the beginning. I really did, but … well …’ He sighed. ‘I just couldn’t forget.’
Lincoln’s pulse spiked. ‘Forget what?’
Eric ran his hand down his face. His gaze was sombre when it returned to Lincoln’s. ‘I’m not just your stepfather, Linc. I’m the man your mother passed over in preference to your father.’
Lincoln blinked, his throat tightening as Eric’s words sank in. ‘You … What?’
Eric paused to sip his coffee. ‘I’m not proud of it. Your mother and I … we dated at university. I loved her something chronic, but then your father came along and he was everything I wasn’t. Tall, dark, and handsome. A rebel with a motorbike. Your mother was smitten. Maybe she thought she’d throw away the plan your grandfather had mapped out for her, I don’t know. But she fell in love with him. It broke my heart.’
‘She married him.’
‘Yes, she married him. Then she had you. And I thought that was it until your father died. It took a while, but we reconnected and I gave her another chance. I still loved her, you see. And I’d thought we’d have more kids.’
Lincoln frowned. ‘But you never did.’
‘No. Because your mother haemorrhaged and had a hysterectomy the day you were born.’
Lincoln’s hand slackened around his mug. ‘Oh.’
‘Yep.’ Eric nodded, pain flashing through his eyes as he sipped his coffee. ‘So, there weren’t to be any kids for us. Then she got that awful flu and it was up to me to raise you.’ He placed his mug down and smiled sadly. ‘I’m sorry, Linc. But I want you to know, I never actively resented you. Even before she died. I never wanted to make you feel like I didn’t care. Because I did. You were just a kid and I liked having you around, taking you to the park and buying you chocolates when your mother wasn’t looking.’ Lincoln shared in Eric’s small smile. ‘But even so, in the back of my mind … you were a constant reminder that I was still your mother’s second choice. I thought I did my best to hide that when you were little. Then when she died … well, I loved her and you were all I had left, so I wanted to do right by you.’
‘And you did the best you could,’ Lincoln said, nodding slowly. After this revelation about his mother, it made some sense as to why Eric had found it difficult to have him in his life. But in saying that, Lincoln had never gone without. He’d had a good education. Clothes on his back. A roof over his head. Eric had never told him no.
Lincoln frowned into his coffee. Eric had been there. At the eisteddfods, the debutante ball, all of his graduations. He’d bought Lincoln expensive cufflinks the day he’d started at Jacobs Property Group and had taken him to dinner every time Lincoln had secured a deal.
Wasn’t that affection enough?
He glanced up at his stepfather. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?’
Eric shrugged. ‘I guess I hadn’t realised how much it had affected you or that you’d throw away your chance for a family. And I’d hate to see you do that, Linc.’ Eric rounded the bench to stand at Lincoln’s side. His stepfather laid his hand on his shoulder, and smiled. ‘You need to know, however I may have treated you … it was never your fault. If anything … I think having you in my life is the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me.’
A knot lodged in Lincoln’s throat as Eric’s grip tightened. He studied his hands as, stupidly, he thought he might even cry.
‘Come now, boy,’ Eric said on a laugh, effectively lightening the mood. ‘Don’t get all soppy about it.’
Lincoln exhaled and brought his gaze back to Eric’s. The tension eased from his shoulders. ‘I’m not. It’s just … I guess I didn’t see all the little things. You always cared about me. You were always there.’
‘Of course.’ Eric’s brow furrowed. ‘Why wouldn’t I be? Because no matter what, Lincoln … You are my son.’
Lincoln stared at Eric. After a lifetime of being called his ‘stepson’, he’d have thought he probably would cry. But the earlier threat of tears dried up as everything inside him softened. Because what did the words matter when the truth had always been obvious through actions?
Lincoln cleared his throat. ‘And you’re my father. The only one I’ve ever known.’
Since they both needed it, Eric drew Lincoln into a tight embrace, patting him firmly on the back for a moment before drawing away. ‘You are my family, Linc. And if I didn’t have you, who would I have to call and worry about me when I almost had a stroke?’
‘But you didn’t even want me to come!’
‘Because you were on holiday!’ Eric threw his hands in the air. ‘And I didn’t want you to leave that pretty girl behind or cut your vacation short.’
‘Yeah, but still—’
‘And I was fine.’ Eric waved his hand, dismissing Lincoln’s protests before picking up his coffee. ‘There was no need to make a fuss.’
‘But I would have.’
‘I know. Which is why I wanted you to remain where you were because I thought you were on your way to having a family of your own.’
Lincoln blew out his breath. ‘Yeah … but I stuffed that up.’
Eric quirked an eyebrow. ‘Is it fixable?’
Lincoln stared into his cold coffee and frowned. ‘I’m not sure …’
In fact, he wasn’t sure about a lot of things anymore.
***
Mirabella wasn’t wasting any time. Freya and Honey had picked her up from the airport on Thursday morning, and by mid-afternoon she’d bought packing boxes and notified the real-estate agent that she was breaking her lease.
Standing in her living room with Honey snuggled in her arms, Mirabella turned in a slow circle. A poster of Monet’s water lilies hung on the wall and a Statue of Liberty figurine sat on her lamp table. She’d made a home for herself in Melbourne, but moving back to Sydney would be a whole new adventure. She’d stay with her mum while she looked for a place to rent and found work. It wouldn’t be easy, but as an artist, she was used to uncertainty. She’d figure it out. The most important thing was that she got settled in Sydney and organised her life before the baby came.
She sighed, content with her decision as she glanced down at her little dog and smiled. ‘Just the three of us, Honey.’
Since talking to her mum, Mirabella felt stronger. She could do this on her own. She didn’t need a man and she certainly did not need Lincoln Crawford, who couldn’t appreciate a good thing when it was thrown in his face. Whether or not they stayed in touch remained to be seen, but Mirabella didn’t think she could manage being only his friend. Hanging onto him these past eleven years had held her back and after reuniting, she needed a clean break. So, she would remove him from Facebook—in a few weeks—because there was no need to be friends with people who weren’t an active part of her life. Sure, that was one good thing about Facebook, but social media hurt enough without seeing what her high-school peers were up to. The last thing she wanted was to be scrolling through on occasion to find pictures of Lincoln’s adventures—the skydiving, trekking, and bungee jumping he’d partake in at the expense of a family.
Mirabella sank onto the lounge. ‘We don’t need that, Honey. The three of us … we’ll be just fine without him.’
***
Lincoln returned to the office on Friday following an afternoon of meetings that had provided a welcome distraction. His mind had been spinning since yesterday’s discussion with Eric. But every time he paused to evaluate those thoughts, or the feelings that accompanied them, Lincoln was only left feeling all the more confused.
‘Hey, Eva.’ He smiled as he approached his assistant’s desk. ‘Any messages?’
Eva jumped up straight in her chair, her eyes wide as though she’d been caught doing something wrong. She shook her head. ‘No. Sorry.’
Curious, Lincoln peered over her desk … and stilled. A little girl sat on the floor brushing the long blonde tail of a toy pony.
He frowned. ‘Who is this?’
Eva tucked her hair behind her ear, a grin spreading across her face. ‘This is Lily. I’m sorry, I hope you don’t mind. She’s my boyfriend’s little girl and usually he’d pick her up from day care, but he had to stay late and asked if I could collect her. Don’t worry though,’ she added quickly, holding up her hands to reassure him. ‘I’ll do all my work and he’ll be here in twenty minutes to collect her.’
Lincoln shook his head. He didn’t mind that the girl was there. But curiosity got the better of him as he watched Lily, her attention focused on her brushing. ‘It’s all right. So … your boyfriend’s daughter?’
‘Yeah.’ Eva beamed. ‘She’s three. And I have to say, I’m smitten.’
Lincoln studied Eva, his frown deepening as a whirring sounded inside his head. His mind clouded. What had happened to his no-nonsense, workaholic assistant? She was practically mooning over this little girl.
Everything inside Lincoln tightened. He’d known she had a boyfriend, but … ‘How long have you been together?’
Eva lifted her shoulder, but didn’t tear her gaze from Lily. ‘Six months. This is the first time Lily and I have been alone. And I must say, I was quite honoured and a little frightened when he asked me to pick her up.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah. That’s a big step. Shows trust, don’t you think?’
He swallowed, but the knot didn’t dislodge from his throat. He struggled to find his voice. ‘I guess …’ He regarded the girl. ‘But … I hadn’t pictured you as… I mean … Don’t you want children of your own?’
‘Of course.’ Eva glanced at him, frowning slightly. ‘And I’m sure I will. But I’ve got to admit, I do hope things work out between Jack and me because I’m seriously in love with Lily.’
The air thinned. ‘You are?’ Lincoln croaked.
‘Yeah. I mean, she’s just a little girl.’ She looked at Lily, devotion filling her eyes. ‘And she doesn’t have a mummy. Jack’s wife was killed in a car accident and …’ Eva shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter. But she needs someone, you know?’
Lincoln watched, mesmerised as Lily held up the pony and Eva beamed. His heart swelled until it was too big for his chest. Eva did love Lily. Even though she wasn’t hers, even though she could have children, it was clear that nothing would diminish her fondness for this little girl.
Lincoln’s hand tightened around his briefcase. A shiver ran through him and he felt the swift urge to move.
He glanced at Eva. Cleared his throat. ‘Don’t worry if her father runs late. Lily’s welcome here any time.’
Then he turned and strode out of the office. Eva called after him, but Lincoln didn’t stop. He reached the elevator and pressed the button repeatedly to the beat of his racing heart.
He could barely breathe. He’d been so stupid. So blind. So selfish. What had he been thinking? Of course, he could love Mirabella’s child. He did love it! Even though it hadn’t been born, he wanted to know her child. To hold her baby. To dress it, feed it, to … love it. Lincoln shook his head and pressed the button again.
Where was the damn elevator?
He blew out his breath. Shifted his feet. Almost laughed at himself. What had he been so afraid of? Mirabella was right. This baby was innocent. And he could be there for everything. He could go with her to the ultrasound… He could hear its rapid heartbeat … He could decorate the bedroom beside his for the nursery. And when her gorgeous baby was born and placed into his arms—
The elevator pinged. Lincoln slid through the doors. He wanted to be there. He wanted to be there for this baby. And even though he had no doubt Mirabella could raise it on her own, how could he deny her child the love of two parents?
He tapped his foot. Ran his hand through his hair. The love of a mother and a father … it was something he’d craved. A love Mirabella had also lost and wanted for her child. And he’d been prepared to deny an innocent kid that just because he was scared? Afraid that he wouldn’t love it just because they didn’t share DNA?
Bile filled his mouth as he rode the horrendously slow, constantly stopping elevator to the garage. Lincoln had never been more disgusted with himself. It didn’t matter whether he’d conceived the kid or not, no child should be denied love. And he did love it. Because, dammit, he loved its mother. More than life itself, he loved Mirabella. Life without her … He’d lived that. He didn’t want to live it again. And if he was going to have any chance of having a family, this was it.
Mirabella Goldring and her child were his.
He just hoped it wasn’t too late to get them back.
***
Mirabella promised herself it was her last indulgence as she curled up on the lounge with a bowl of Neapolitan ice cream and scooped up all three flavours. Why did people buy Neapolitan just for the chocolate when it sucked without the strawberry?
She moaned as she popped a spoonful in her mouth and resumed the DVD she was watching. An action movie, of course, because she was so over romance.
Honey crawled into her lap and whined. ‘No. No ice cream for you.’ The little dog’s ears perked as Mirabella let the dessert melt on her tongue. ‘Uh-uh. It’s bad for doggies.’
That didn’t stop Honey from watching her though until Mirabella had cleared the bowl. Scooping up her dog, she snuggled into the lounge and cuddled Honey to her chest just as Gerard Butler opened fire on a bunch of terrorists.
She jumped as a knock sounded on her door. Her body tensed as Honey wriggled and tried to free herself. Mirabella didn’t let her go though as she glanced at her phone. It was almost nine o’clock.
Honey yapped.
‘Shh!’ she hissed, reaching for the remote. She hit pause. The knock sounded again and she slowly unfolded herself from the lounge. Thank goodness for peepholes …
‘Bella?’ Lincoln’s voice echoed through the wood. Mirabella stilled. Honey yelped as she clutched her too tight.
‘Sorry,’ she whispered, placing the dog down.
‘Bella? Are you there?’
She swallowed, her heart pounding. Pulling the band from her hair, Mirabella ran her hands through it. Then rolled her eyes at herself. Lincoln didn’t care what she looked like or that she was wearing her plainest pyjamas. Except …
What is he doing here?
Mirabella crossed the room and gripped the doorhandle. She took a deep breath, but it did nothing to settle her pulse as she unlatched the chain. She opened the door to find Lincoln Crawford in the hall, looking oh-so-gorgeous in a dark, pinstriped suit with a pale blue shirt open at the collar. The air caught in her throat. He was even sexier dressed all business-like than when he was shirtless and wearing board shorts on a tropical island.
His shoulders sagged and he blew out his breath. ‘Thank God you’re home.’
Mirabella swallowed. ‘What are you doing here?’
He ran his hand through his hair and shifted his feet. ‘I just … Can I come in?’
‘Oh. Yeah.’ Mirabella stepped back and pulled the door open further. Honey started barking.
‘Shh, calm down.’ She bent to scoop Honey up as Lincoln closed the door. She tried to soothe her dog while her heart raced a marathon inside her chest. ‘It’s just Lincoln. He’s okay …’
Except, what is he doing here?
Lincoln’s attention darted towards the TV. His eyebrows lifted. ‘Olympus Has Fallen?’
She shook her head. ‘No, that was earlier. This one’s London.’
‘Right.’ Lincoln paused before turning his gaze back to hers. ‘I’m sorry. I should have called.’
She shook her head. ‘No, it’s all right.’
Except it wasn’t. After the way they’d left things, she’d have been perfectly happy never to see him again. And now, it was after nine o’clock and he’d turned up out of the blue…
Her breath fell short. Honey yelped again, but Mirabella didn’t let her go. ‘Lincoln? What are you doing here?’
‘I just …’ Sighing, he paced a few steps away and interlocked his fingers behind his head as he studied Monet’s water lilies. Mirabella watched him as an ache filled her chest. Surely, there was only one reason he’d come to her now…
He spun to face her and dropped his hands. ‘I’ve been such an idiot.’
Honey barked. Mirabella stared at him, unable to form words.
He blew out his breath before continuing. ‘I was afraid, Mirabella. After the news about my infertility and losing Jenny … I lost my way. I had no idea what I wanted, what I was doing. I was chasing a foolish dream …’
She choked out a gasp. ‘Your adventures?’
‘Yeah.’ He stepped towards her, then halted. ‘I thought I’d be happy alone. Carefree with no responsibilities. And sure, it sounds appealing …’
Her heart felt like it was going to burst. Could this be happening? ‘But?’
He took another step towards her, but kept some distance. ‘It’s not what I want.’
‘What do you want?’ she whispered.
‘Well …’ Now, he did close the space between them. He reached for Honey and plucked the snarling chihuahua from Mirabella’s arms. ‘There’s a good girl,’ he said, placing her on the lounge and rubbing her head. ‘But just give me a minute. I need to talk to your mum.’
He turned back to Mirabella and took her limp hands in his. ‘I spoke to Eric. He told me some things about my parents that I didn’t know and we cleared the air. Then my assistant Eva … she’s completely in love with her boyfriend’s daughter. She loves her more than she loves the bloke, by the look of things. And I just … Bella, family can come in all different forms. I realise that now. And no matter what, I want a family.’
Mirabella pressed her lips together as her throat closed over and tears prickled in her eyes. Her fingers curled around his. She exhaled. ‘Lincoln … I can do this on my own.’
‘Of course, you can, but …’ He straightened. Blinked. ‘What are you saying?’
Mirabella tried to hold back a laugh, and only half succeeded. ‘What I’m saying is, I can raise this baby on my own. But I never wanted to.’
Lincoln’s shoulders relaxed and he squeezed her hands. ‘I know you don’t want to. And you shouldn’t have to. I wouldn’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do, Bella. Because I love you. I loved you once and I love you still.’
Mirabella didn’t bother to contain herself as joy burst from her heart. She grinned and blinked back tears. ‘I know you do. Dammit, Lincoln, I told you—’
But words failed as he fell to one knee. Mirabella gasped. ‘What are you—’
‘Bella, I cannot ask you to marry me. At least, not right now considering I’m still married. So instead …’ His gaze dropped to her belly. Mirabella’s breath caught as he let go of her hands and spread his fingers over the soft cotton covering her abdomen. Heat shot through her and wrapped around her heart as, ever so slowly, his hands brushed over her belly and moved to caress her hips.
Lincoln’s glistening eyes lifted back to hers. ‘Mirabella Goldring, I love you. And I love this baby. So, I am asking you … Can I please be this little one’s daddy?’
Mirabella’s hands flew to her mouth and her tears burst free. Lincoln shot to his feet, but didn’t remove his hands from her waist.
She nodded. ‘Yes. Oh, Linc—’
Mirabella threw her arms around his neck and lifted onto her toes as Lincoln’s mouth descended upon hers. She met his kiss, hot and hungry as his strong arms drew her close and her body melted against his. He held her tight as finally—finally—Lincoln found his way home.