By Lisa Jackson
This ebook includes 3 vintage tales with the Fortunes - a kin whose Christmas legacy is larger thatn mere riches.
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Extra info for A Fortune's Children Christmas
His old ears pricked up and he started whining and scratching at the door. ” Chase, pulling on his gloves, opened the door and stared into the coming night. He couldn’t see anything other than the continual snow. “It’s nothing—” But there was something that wasn’t right, something out of place—the muted, steady blare of an automobile horn. Squinting, he stared through the blizzard, but saw nothing. Still the horn blasted. “Great,” he growled. Just what he needed. His truck was four-wheel-drive, but the tires were bald, the transmission about shot and he doubted if he could make much headway in snow this deep.
He turned on the radio again, listened to a depressing weather report and, as a static-laden version of “O Come All Ye Faithful” filled the room with music, strode into the bedroom. Lesley was awake and had somehow managed, with the aid of sponge, towels and the bucket of warm water he’d left at the bed, to clean herself and the baby. Now the little girl was dressed in a white sleeper that was trimmed in red and green and looked a couple of sizes too large. “Merry Christmas,” Lesley’s smile was infectious.
Something tightened in his chest, and he averted his eyes; he still hadn’t gotten used to seeing her so uncovered, but it was fascinating and sensual in a domestic, earthy way that caused heat to climb up the back of his neck and an answering response between his legs. It was beginning to seem right—her sleeping in his bed, the tiny baby swaddled and sleeping either with her or in the make-shift bassinet. At the turn of his thoughts he stiffened. What was he thinking? Just seconds ago he’d been on the right track, and now as he glanced at the sleeping woman and child he doubted himself.