By Heather Graham
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Additional resources for An Angel for Christmas
But your son, the physician, refused to allow anyone to bleed to death. ” Mike groaned, staring at the man on the sofa. “If you saw everything that I saw, you’d be more careful,” he said. ” Shayne said. Genevieve and Connor appeared in the kitchen doorway—just their little heads popping out. Morwenna hurried toward them. “Hey, little ones. Want to do me a favor? Run upstairs to my bedroom and bring me one of the pillows off my bed. And a blanket, huh? ” They both nodded at her gravely. “Don’t worry,” Connor told her.
And Luke was heading toward it. Gabe quickened his pace, grateful that he had the kind of body that had been kept in shape; powerful arms and legs, and good lungs. That seemed especially important now. Breathing was good one minute—the air being so crisp, smogless, empty of diesel fuel, the fumes of buses and trucks—and then hard the next; the snow was still coming. He heard his own breathing as he surged on upward. Luke had a body that was honed as well; young, muscled and lithe. Had he been a gymnast or a sprinter at some time?
If I really want it, I can just stop taking parental financial aid and go it on my own. It will be much harder, but I’m willing to give it go. The thing is…” Bobby trailed off. ” Gabe pressed. He laughed suddenly. “I guess it’s a good thing. We fight like cats and dogs, and it’s hard to plan a family dinner with a pack of overachievers…but, still, my parents always loved us. It’s the way that they look at me that kills me. ” Bobby shut up, wondering why the hell he had just kind of spilled out so much to a stranger.