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“Idiot,” Jack muttered
Nicky tipped her head back and peered up at him from the toddler seat in the trolley.
“Not idiot,” the young girl protested indignantly.
“Not you, darling, me. I’ve forgotten something,” he explained, and with a sigh he shoved the trolley around the corner, nearly crashing into someone. Someone small and blond and—
“Molly?”
She froze, then turned in slow motion. Her eyes were wide and wary and beautiful, and her lips were working slightly. He had an insane urge to kiss them….
Caroline Anderson has the mind of a butterfly. She’s been a nurse, a secretary, a teacher, she once ran her own soft furnishing business, and she has now settled on writing. She says, “I was looking for that elusive something. I finally realized it was variety, and now I have it in abundance. Every book brings new horizons and new friends, and in between books I have learned to be a juggler. My teacher husband, John, and I have umpteen pets, two horse-mad daughters—Sarah and Hannah—and several acres of Suffolk, a county in England, that nature tries to reclaim every time we turn our backs!”
Kids Included!
Caroline Anderson
MILLS & BOON
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CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
‘ABRACADABRA!’
The coins vanished from one hand and reappeared magically in the other, to the amazement of the children sitting cross-legged in front of her, watching her every move with wide-eyed anticipation…
At least, that was the theory.
In practice, the coins fell out of her hand, rolled across the floor and wobbled to a halt just in front of the first row of straight-faced and sceptical little monsters. They laughed and scrabbled for the coins, the magic hopelessly blown away, and Molly sighed.
Darn Sandy and her wretched wrist—
She dredged up a smile.
‘Ah. Well, how about this trick?’ she suggested, and waved Sandy’s wand again. Her fingers disappeared up her sleeve, hunted around for a moment, then came out with a stream of brightly coloured handkerchiefs.
In theory.
She looked at the single yellow square in disgust. Obviously her knots left something to be desired…
She rootled around in her sleeve again for the rest of the colourful string, and the children tittered and giggled and nudged each other. In the back corner a man sat, watching her steadily as she poked about for the elusive end. He was the host—Jack something. Hallam? Haddon? He would have made a good poker player, she thought crossly as she rummaged. Totally po-faced, he was the man who, if she pulled this off, would pay her for her services.
Hah. The only thing she was going to pull off was the lining of the jacket, and as for being paid for this fiasco—!
Molly’s face flamed, but she persevered, and they began to laugh louder. ‘I know they’re up here somewhere,’ she muttered, and the laugh grew to a crescendo. The man was still watching her intently. His mouth twitched, and she could have hit him, or strangled him with the brightly coloured silk squares—if she ever found them.
She could feel them tugging over her shoulder, so she stuck her hand down the back of her neck and pulled, and, yes! Out they came!
The children roared their approval, laughing and clapping, and to her astonishment Molly realised that they were enjoying it. They thought—bless their little cotton socks—that she meant to camp it up! And the man with the money was laughing, too!
Thank God for small mercies, she thought wildly, and plunged on with the act.
Everything went wrong. She didn’t mean it to, but she didn’t really have to try. Sandy made it look so easy—just wait till she caught up with her!
‘Help me out—my wrist is so bad I can’t possibly do the tricks—’
Well, Sandy wasn’t the only one who couldn’t possibly do the tricks, but at least the children seemed to be on her side now. The rings steadfastly refused to come apart, the disappearing balls under the cups kept appearing again, the card trick ended with cards scattering
