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A Mother for Matilda
Amy Andrews
Table of Contents
Dear Reader
After eighteen books this is my first ‘friends become lovers’ story. I’m not sure why I’ve never tackled this one before, because as far as storylines go I’m a bona fide fan! The angst and the yearning in these plots are so tangible you can feel them seething around you as you read.
Poor Lawson and Victoria are no different. Not only have they known each other for twenty years, having formed a dynamic and vital paramedic partnership on their small island community that neither want to jeopardise, Vic is counting down the days until she leaves the island for foreign shores. And then there’s Matilda—Lawson’s eight-year-old daughter. Victoria has spent the last seventeen years raising her twin brothers after their mother’s tragic death—she yearns for a freedom that she’s never known. She certainly has no plans to be a mother—ever.
But sometimes fate has other things in store, and Victoria and Lawson are about to discover that some things just can’t be denied. It’s a bumpy ride, but one that will be well worth the bruises.
I hope you enjoy.
Love
Amy
Amy Andrews has always loved writing, and still can’t quite believe that she gets to do it for a living. Creating wonderful heroines and gorgeous heroes and telling their stories is an amazing way to pass the day. Sometimes they don’t always act as she’d like them to—but then neither do her kids, so she’s kind of used to it. Amy lives in the very beautiful Samford Valley, with her husband and aforementioned children, along with six brown chooks and two black dogs. She loves to hear from her readers. Drop her a line at www.amyandrews.com.au
I dedicate this book to one of the most talented writers I know, and the woman who knows me better than any other—my amazing sister, Roslyn. I carry her heart in my heart. As she does mine.
Chapter One
AN EARLY morning sea breeze caught the sleeve of Lawson Dunlop’s paramedic overalls as he sat on the wooden picnic table devouring a bacon and egg roll from the nearby twenty-four-hour cafe. His booted feet were evenly spread and braced on the seat. His elbows propped on his powerful quads. His lean torso angled forward.
The first rays of sunlight reached across the ocean to illuminate the island and in the half-light the water in the passage was a deep velvety blue. The surface was still, millpond still, yet to be fractured by the activities of the day.
Already a steady stream of workers in their cars trundled over the bridge heading to the mainland and Brisbane, one hour’s commute away. A few eager fishermen, their lines hanging over the side, paid no heed to the daily island exodus as the cars rumbled past them.
A gull wheeled and cried overhead as Lawson’s gaze tracked the path of a nearby pelican waddling up the narrow strip of sand ceded by the tide. The breeze blew a faint tang of salt towards him and he inhaled deeply, enjoying the serenity of island life and the respite from a long and busy night duty.
A rustle beside him disturbed the peace and he turned to look down at his partner of five years sitting next to him in much the same fashion, their thighs almost touching. She was also making short work of her breakfast, which at least meant he could enjoy the scenery in silence. Eating was about the only time Victoria Dunleavy was ever quiet.
Vic inhaled, also admiring the view. ‘Don’t guess I’m going to get this in London,’ she said around a mouthful of burger.
Lawson shook his head. ‘Nope.’
‘Did I mention it’s ninety days?’
‘Yep.’ Once or twice.
‘Nine. Zero. Then I’m out of here. Gone-ski. Vamoosed.’ She ignored the way her gut clenched at the thought of being so far away from her beloved Brindabella Island. It was way past time for her to fly the nest.
‘Uh-huh.’
Lawson took another bite. He’d miss his partner. In a strictly professional way, of course. Good partnerships were rare and, in their line of work, vital. He wasn’t looking forward to having to build
