“All the better to keep her safe. Spike would lay his life on the line for her, Nina. But if you want a smaller dog for her…”
“No.” It was obvious that dog and baby had bonded in some perfectly natural way that both were comfortable with. Jack undoubtedly had something to do with it, and she trusted his judgment. “I suspect you’re losing your dog to Charlotte,” she warned good-humouredly.
“Mmm.” He nibbled her ear. “There’s something very seductive about little beings, babies and pups and kittens and chicks. I think this might be the first time Spike’s been in at the beginning, and he’s not going to miss out on knowing how things develop.”
She knew intuitively Jack was really speaking for himself. He didn’t want to miss out on anything, either. Next time he would be with her throughout her pregnancy. There would be nothing lonely about it. Nothing lonely at all.
“The nurse said I’ve healed very well,” she informed him. “And quickly, thanks to you taking every possible strain off me. I can get back to work now.”
His head lifted. She felt his chest expand, and a long breath wavered through her hair. “Nina, the boys have been making you the perfect table to suit your working needs. We could turn the sunroom into a professional sewing room for you. It’s only a fifteen-minute drive to Sally’s for appointments.”
“I must call Sally,” she said, smiling over his plan.
“I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”
Nina turned in his embrace to let him see the happiness and certainty glowing in her eyes. “I want to call her about a date for our wedding. If you still want to marry me.”
“Want to…” He laughed, unable to contain his joy. “We’re going to have all the frills Sally can think of.”
“Her charges are high, Jack,” she warned, laughing with him.
“Who cares? It’ll be the best day of our lives. Charlotte can be a flower baby.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Maybe we should have a flower dog, as well.”
He shook his head, his eyes adoring her. “I love you, Nina Brady.”
She looked at him with all the brimming emotion in her heart, this incredibly caring man, her lover, her partner in life, the father of her future family. “I love you, Jack Gulliver,” she answered with vibrant passion, and went up on tiptoe to kiss him.
It was a kiss of promise, of absolute commitment, but most of all, of love and trust and deep pleasure in their togetherness. It was the beginning of the song of belonging.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
JACK slowly surfaced from deep sleep, feeling decidedly groggy. He recollected it had been a big night, a superb dinner and lots of champagne, he and Nina celebrating with Sally, riding a high from the great spread Nina had been given in a bride magazine, beautiful photographs of her best designs. Then he realised what had woken him. The kid was yelling.
He struggled out of bed, trying not to disturb Nina, who hadn’t budged. Big night. A well-deserved big night. He didn’t want the kid waking her up and spoiling sweet dreams of success and recognition of her talent. She’d worked hard for it. A special night for her.
Everything had been peaceful when they’d arrived home. Ben, who’d volunteered to baby-sit, had assured them there’d been no problems. The kid was six months old now. Shouldn’t be yelling at this hour. Jack frowned at the numbers illuminated on the bedside clock radio. Four-seventeen.
The night-light in the hall gave a dim glow, guiding him out of the bedroom. He frowned as he saw a brighter light coming from the kid’s bedroom. Someone must have left the touch-lamp on. The yelling stopped, but Jack kept going, deciding he might as well see if something was wrong. Switch the lamp off, as well.
He reached the doorway and halted in his tracks. His three-year-old daughter, along with her ever-faithful friend and companion, Spike, were lined up beside the cot, eyeballing the baby. Charlotte planted her hands on her hips and held forth to her little brother.
“Listen up, kid! You and I need to come to a ’commodation. I don’t like being woke when it’s still dark. Spike doesn’t, neither.”
Spike dutifully whined his displeasure.
“Now I’m going to teach you what’s what.” She stepped over to the lamp and tapped it until it went off. “This is dark. Have you got that, kid? Dark,” she repeated for good measure. “You keep quiet when it’s dark.”
A raspberry from the cot.
The lamp came on again. “This is light. You can start yelling when it’s light—” she wagged an authoritative finger at the baby “—but not before. And don’t blow raspberries at me. Show some respeck. This is your big sister talking.”
A becoming silence from the cot.
“That’s better,” Charlotte declared with satisfaction. “You’ve got to be a fast learner in this family, kid. Give him a lick for being a good boy, Spike.”
Spike’s tongue reached through the slats of the cot and swatted Patrick’s hand.