Baby for the Midwife: The Midwife's Baby / Spanish Doctor, Pregnant Midwife / Countdown to Baby

Baby for the Midwife: The Midwife's Baby / Spanish Doctor, Pregnant Midwife / Countdown to Baby
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THE MIDWIFE'S BABYEight months pregnant and a bridesmaid isn’t midwife Georgia Winton’s ideal situation… especially when she goes into labour during the ceremony and the only person who can save her and her baby is the groom – gorgeous consultant Max Beresford!SPANISH DOCTOR, PREGNANT MIDWIFEAnnie Thomas dotes on the tiny lives she brings into the world, but she can never have a child of her own. Until one night with devastatingly attractive Dr Raphael Castillo results in pregnancy! The Spaniard is determined to be part of his baby’s life, but does he want Annie too?COUNTDOWN TO BABYUnexpected sparks flew when Geoff Bingham met midwife Cecilia Mendoza and their passion blazed, resulting in a night of passion. But Geoff is only in town for a few weeks, so Cecilia suggests a no-strings-attached affair to help her realise her dream of being a mother… an offer Geoff cannot refuse!

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Baby for the Midwife

The Midwife’s Baby

Fiona MCArthur

Spanish Doctor, Pregnant Midwife

Anne Fraser

Countdown to Baby

Gina Wilkins


www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

The Midwife’s Baby

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Spanish Doctor, Pregnant Midwife

About the Author

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

Countdown to Baby

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter one

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Copyright

Fiona MCArthur

A mother to five sons, FIONA MCARTHUR is an Australian midwife who loves to write. Medical Romance>TM gives Fiona the scope to write about all the wonderful aspects of adventure, romance, medicine and midwifery that she feels so passionate about—as well as an excuse to travel! so now that the boys are older, her husband Ian and youngest son Rory are off with Fiona to meet new people, see new places, and have wonderful adventures. Fiona’s website is at www.fionamcarthur.com.

To The Maytone Girls, friends indeed, who inspire me.

THE chapel floated like a snowflake against the backdrop of the lush Hunter Valley Gardens and the string quartet drifted silvery notes out over the waiting guests.

Max Beresford stood tall and straight at the front of the church and realised that despite the romantic venue he’d condemned himself to the type of loveless marriage his parents had.

Give me a sign, God. Am I a fool for going through with this?

The procession music started. Too late.

Max tilted his chin slightly as he watched the matron of honour walk haltingly towards him in some screechingly fashionable apricot material.

There was something about the dogged yet vulnerable expression on the woman’s face that aroused his sympathy because he’d approached the altar with just such a halting advance.

Max frowned. Was there a problem or was his new cousin-in-law-to-be unbearably nervous? Embarrassed didn’t make sense because she looked gorgeous—fertile with her baby bump bulging beneath the shiny fabric—but gorgeous nonetheless.

She paused again and seemed to suck air in through gritted teeth before she raised her chin and resumed her approach.

Max knew Tayla had been reluctant to include her midwife cousin, Georgia, in the wedding party but he’d thought that had been because of Georgia’s unfashionable pregnancy and some vague hint that she was depressed. Maybe there were other reasons.

Before he could ruminate on that thought his non-blushing bride staged her spectacular entry and the gasps from the congregation drew Max’s eyes towards his future wife.

Max could do nothing but stare as feathers rippled and parted in the breeze and held him spellbound.

He blinked in disbelief. Tayla seemed to have been devoured by a white duck.

Framed against the door for an extended moment, his bride’s shapely arms and legs stretched from beneath a strapless froth of feathers that only just covered her thighs at the front and fell in a frothy tail to the floor at the back.

A large apricot bow around her tiny waist matched the rose in her father’s lapel.

Good grief, Max thought, and suppressed a smile. He’d fallen into Swan Lake and he had never felt less like a prince.

His bride floated up beside him, as did one of the feathers that had come unstuck and drifted just ahead of her in an eddy, and went to hand her feathered fan to the matron of honour.

Cousin Georgia was not having a good day as she missed the one cue she’d been assigned. He could see Tayla remained seriously unimpressed with her attendant.

For Georgia Winton, being matron of honour had assumed the nightmare proportions she had hoped it wouldn’t.

The first unexpected labour contraction had hit her as she’d entered the church at the precise moment the whole congregation had noticed her entrance.

The next contraction had grown to such intensity she almost dropped the bouquet as her cousin handed it to her.

When she was able to, Georgia offered an apologetic glance at the bride and groom, which neither acknowledged. Tayla had tossed her head in disgust and Max had continued to stare, bemused, at Tayla’s dress.

Georgia clutched the bouquet like the dead duck it resembled and forced her shoulders to drop as the pain eased away. Distraction, distraction, distraction, she reminded herself. There was plenty of that.



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