Mac's Angels: The Last Dance: A Loveswept Classic Romance Read Free Page A

takeoff. We’ll tell them we’re flying home to Aspen for the holidays. All we have to do is walk down the concourse into the private area and board my plane. They won’t be expecting that.”
    She nodded again.
    “All right, let’s go. We don’t want to look rushed, but we’d better hurry.”
    Sterling swallowed hard. Hurry? “I—I can’t, Mac.”
    “Why not? Are you hurt?”
    “No, that’s not it.”
    “Then we have to go. Now.” He stood.
    “Mac, you don’t understand. I—I can’t walk. Not anymore. I need my wheelchair from baggage claim.”
    He sat back down, a confused look on his face. “You can’t walk?”
    “I can, a little, but only for short periods of time. I’ve had to walk so much in the last hour that my legs are … used up. I’ll never make it.”
    He furrowed his brow in thought. “All right,” he finally said. “If you need transportation, you’ve got it.” He ripped off her fur-lined hood, removed his baseball cap, crammed it on her head, then handed her his coat. “That fur is too visible. Wear my cap and stuff this jacket under your sweater. You’re pregnant and you don’t feel well.”
    Sterling followed his instructions, glad that her sweater was oversized.
    Before she knew what was happening, Mac scooped her up and moved quickly through the bar, flagging down one of the motorized vehicles used to carry passengers down the concourse. “Sit here with these folks, darling,” he said, depositing her next to an elderly couple. “She’s all right,” he assured them. “She’s just a little queasy. Don’t know why her morning sickness comes in the afternoon.”
    Mac sat beside her and motioned for the driver to move on. “Thanks for sharing your ride,” he said, giving the elderly couple a wide smile. “We’ve just got to get home for Christmas. The children are waiting.”
    “Oh, you poor thing,” the older woman said, patting Sterling on the knee. “How many do you have now?”
    “One—” Sterling said, ready to strangle Mac.
    “Three—” Mac said at the same time, quickly coming up with names of people he knew. “A little girl—Erica. Erica is just a year old and she’s going to look just like her mother. And twin boys, Conner and Rhett. They’ll be three next month.”
    “My—my, three children with one on the way, and you’re so young. What’s this one going to be? Or don’t you know yet?”
    “Do we know yet?” she asked Mac, a hint of amusement in her voice.
    “No.” He grinned, surprised at how much he was enjoying the exchange with Sterling in the midst of danger. He only hoped the elderly couple’s eyesight was poor. No pregnancy he’d ever seen had quite the contours of Sterling’s sweater. “We like to be surprised. But we’re hoping for another girl. Aren’t we, darling?”
    If he’d been surprised at the lighthearted banter, he was even more surprised at himself when he slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close for a quick kiss that was intended to be a husband’s mark of assurance.
    The moment his lips touched her cheek, his pulse raced.
    Startled by his unexpected physical response, he pulled back, masking his confusion by looking around. Could it be the threat of danger that made a shiver ripple down his spine?
    “You okay, Dad?” Sterling asked. “Don’t tell me you’re going to get sick too.” She flashed the couplea motherly smile. “Every time I get pregnant, he throws up.”
    “It’s a whole new world, isn’t it?” the man said. “In my day men didn’t get involved in having the children. It was the woman’s job; we just supported them.”
    “That’s what I keep telling Barney,” Sterling said. “But he likes being a house husband. That way he can do his quilt designs without the men at the gym teasing him.”
    The old man’s mouth fell open. “You make quilts?”
    “Oh, sure,” Mac said, his humor fading a bit. “While preparing for my next fight. Calms my nerves and,