Their Newborn Gift Read Free Page A

face. She sucked it up, took a deep breath. ‘Look, it happens, Reilly. Birth control fails. It’s why they print warnings on the boxes. You could have walked away first that night.’
    No. Not if he’d tried.
    They glared warily at each other, like a cattle dog and a steer sizing each other up. ‘Why me, Lea—of every man in that pub?’
    Her eyes rounded—not the question she was expecting, obviously—but she pushed her shoulders back and answered. ‘You stood out for two reasons. You were—’
    ‘Male and stupid?’
    Her eyes hardened. ‘Attractive but unhappy.’
    An ugly laugh cracked through his lips. ‘Unhappy? I’d just won the champion’s cup, I was surrounded by women and was working my way through a keg of celebratory beer. Why would I be sad?’
    If she noticed how he’d remembered so much about that night five years ago, she didn’t comment. Lucky; it would be tough to explain.
    She barrelled on, ignoring the question. ‘I’d had…I wasn’t feeling the best that night.’ Something in her expression told him there was a heck of a lot more to that story. ‘And there was something in your eyes that I recognised. Some pain that spoke to me.’
    He snorted to cover up how close to the mark she suddenlywas. No way was he going there. ‘I’m guessing my inheritance probably spoke to you loudest. Is it speaking to you now?’
    She gasped. Her nostrils flared and she tossed her thick hair back. ‘Have I asked you for money?’
    ‘I’m sure you’re getting round to it.’
    ‘I’m not here for that.’
    ‘Then why are you here? Why now, Lea, five years into my daughter’s life?’ There was that word again. It was going to take some getting used to.
    Deep shadows crossed her eyes. ‘Believe me, I wouldn’t be here at all if I had a choice,’ she blazed up at him. ‘We were doing just fine, Molly and me.’
    Were? His eyes drifted to the little girl, who had Max in a delighted stranglehold. The cat swished his tail impatiently but knew better than to lash out.
    Lea took a deep breath. ‘My daughter’s dying, Reilly.’
    Reilly staggered backwards, and his eyes fell on the little piece of innocence tangled around his cat. He’d only discovered her moments ago. Then Lea played a particularly stinking card.
    ‘ Our daughter’s dying,’ she continued, her voice dead and tight. ‘She has aplastic anaemia; it’s a disease of her bone marrow. I’m not a tissue match.’
    He turned back to her tortured face, his mind buzzing. ‘You want to know if I’m a match?’
    She shook her head. ‘Even if you were, the success of adult-to-child transfer is too low.’
    He ran stiff fingers through his hair. ‘I don’t understand. What do you want from me?’
    She took a deep breath and locked her hazel eyes onto his. He’d never encountered anything quite as beautiful as the loving determination burning there. For a split second, he wished it burned there for him. When had anyone looked at him like that? Ever?
    The silence screamed. And then she spoke.
    ‘I need you to get me pregnant again so we can save Molly.’
    Lea had never seen someone shrink like that right before her eyes. Reilly sagged back against the timber posts enclosing the veranda.
    ‘Molly’s dying?’
    Well, at least he was focussing on the most important part. ‘Gradually.’ Her voice cracked and she swallowed hard. ‘Yes.’
    He looked at her. ‘Is she in pain?’
    Her heart softened. Very definitely the most important part. Finding he was still capable of the compassion and kindness she remembered was a relief. He hadn’t shown much of it until just then. ‘Not always. But she’s exhausted perpetually, and she bleeds very easily.’ And four-year-olds were prone to tumbling over all the time.
    He nodded, digesting. ‘And having a second child will help her—how?’
    Lea was prepared for this question. ‘Cord blood. And placenta. The baby wouldn’t be touched at all.’ She threw that in hastily, knowing it was