Lonergan’s Secrets
Expecting
Lonergan’s Baby
Strictly
Lonergan’s Business
Satisfying
Lonergan’s Honour
Maureen Child
MILLS & BOON
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Expecting
Lonergan’s Baby
Maureen Child
About the Author
MAUREEN CHILD is a California native who loves to travel. Every chance they get, she and her husband are taking off on another research trip. The author of more than sixty books, Maureen loves a happy ending and still swears that she has the best job in the world. She lives in Southern California with her husband, two children and a golden retriever with delusions of grandeur. Visit Maureen’s website at www.maureenchild.com.
Look for Cinderella & the CEO, also available this month from Maureen Child
For my family—for always being there.
I love you.
One
Sam Lonergan had expected to find a ghost at the lake. He hadn’t expected a naked woman.
Given a choice, he much preferred this view. He knew he should look away, but he didn’t. Instead he focused his gaze on the long, lean woman slicing through the dark, moonlit water.
Even in the pale wash of moonlight her skin glowed tan and smooth. The water she displaced slipped behind her with hardly a splash. Her arms made long strokes through the water, carrying her from one edge of the small lake and back again to the other. A part of him saw her as a trespasser on holy ground—but another part of him was grateful she was here.
While he watched her, he told himself he shouldn’t have come. This lake, this ranch, held too many memories. Too many images that crowded his mind and made remembering an exercise in pain.
Abruptly he squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath and slowly released it before opening his eyes again. She’d stopped swimming and was now treading water, watching him watch her.
“Seen enough?” she asked.
“Depends,” he told her. “You have anything else to show me?”
Her mouth worked as if she were biting down on words she wouldn’t allow herself to say.
“Who are you?” she finally demanded, her voice more angry than worried.
“I could ask you the same thing,” he pointed out.
“This is private property.”
“Sure is,” he agreed, hitching one hip higher than the other and folding his arms over his chest. “So I have to wonder what you’re doing on it.”
“I live here,” she replied, swinging a long, wet fall of dark brown hair back from her face.
Water droplets arced around her head and dropped to the lake like raindrops. It took a minute or two, but her words hit home.
“You live here? This is the Lonergan ranch.”
A ranch that had been in his family for generations. Since the early days of the gold rush, when Sam’s great-great-whatever had decided that the real fortune to be found in California was the land—not rocky cold streams where the occasional nugget was discovered.
That Lonergan had settled here, raising horses and a family. A family that now consisted of one old man, one ghost and three Lonergan cousins: Sam, Cooper and Jake.
His grandfather, Jeremiah Lonergan, had lived alone for the last twenty years. Ever since his wife, Sam’s grandmother, had died. Now, if a naked woman was to be believed, he had a roommate.
“That’s right,” she said, warming to her subject. “And the owner of this ranch is very protective of me. And vicious.”
Sam wanted to laugh. His grandfather was maybe the most gentle-hearted man Sam had ever known. But to hear this woman tell it, Jeremiah was a mad dog.
“Well, he’s not here right now, is he?”
“No.”
“So since it’s just the two of us and we’re getting so friendly… mind telling me if you go skinny-dipping often?” he asked instead.
“You spy on naked women often?”
“Whenever I get the chance.”
She scowled at him and pushed one hand through her wet hair. She dipped a little lower in the water, and he figured her legs were getting tired of the constant kicking to keep afloat.
“You don’t sound ashamed of yourself.”
He gave her a lazy smile that didn’t go anywhere near his eyes. “Lady, if I didn’t watch a naked woman when given the opportunity, that’d be something to be ashamed of.”
“Your mother must be so proud.”
He chuckled. Probably not, but the old man would have been.
She glanced around her and he knew what she was looking at. Emptiness. Except for the oak trees standing like solitary guardians around the ring of the lake, they were alone. The ranch was a good mile east of here, and the highway ten miles south.
“Look,” she said and dipped again, the water lapping at the tops of her breasts. “You’ve
