A Beautiful Stranger (A Family Forever Series, Book 1) Read online

  A Beautiful Stranger

  A Family Forever Series, Book 1

  Donna Fasano

  Copyright © 2016, Donna J. Fasano

  All Rights Reserved

  A Beautiful Stranger, A Family Forever Series, Book 1

  Paperback ISBN 978-1-939000-37-8

  eBook ISBN 978-1-939000-38-5

  This book may not be reproduced in any form, in whole or in part (beyond that copying permitted by U.S. Copyright Law, Section 107, “fair use” in teaching or research, Section 108, certain library copying, or in published media by reviewers in limited excerpt), without written permission from the author.

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  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  A Note From the Author

  FOLLOWING HIS HEART, Ocean City Boardwalk Series, Book 1

  TWO HEARTS IN WINTER, Ocean City Boardwalk Series, Book 2

  WILD HEARTS OF SUMMER, Ocean City Boardwalk Series, Book 3

  AN ALMOST PERFECT CHRISTMAS, Ocean City Boardwalk Series, Book 4

  GROWN UP CHRISTMAS LIST, Ocean City Boardwalk Series, Book 5

  THE WEDDING PLANNER’S SON, Ocean City Boardwalk Series, Book 6

  Other Books by Donna Fasano

  About The Author

  Introduction

  Sean Hudson arrives to claim his new daughter only to discover the adoption hinges on the impossible. Unless he finds a wife immediately, the tiny orphan will be snatched away from him forever. But before Sean can abandon hope, a beautiful stranger proposes a surprising solution—a marriage of convenience.

  Sean swears the love in his heart is only for his soon-to-be daughter. And that is perfect for Nicki Willis, whose restless spirit yearns to have a family for just a while. But the tenderness of Sean’s touch soothes Nicki’s fears as well as little Sona’s. Soon Nicki aches to become a family forever… and she refuses to believe she can’t make this dream come true.

  Chapter One

  “What do you mean, the rules have changed?”

  Sean Hudson tried hard to keep his irritation at bay as he questioned the foreign government worker. The scarred and chipped battleship-gray desk between them seemed as formidable as a brick wall. And it wasn’t the only barrier separating them. The man didn’t understand a single word of English, Sean knew that. But his frustration was swiftly swelling into full-fledged, white-hot, scream-at-the-top-of-your-lungs anger. Wasn’t anything going to go right here?

  A dark cloud of dread descended on him as if in answer.

  The man behind the desk—the person who held in his hands the power to grant or withhold Sean’s greatest wish—only shrugged. The guttural Slavic language he spoke had Sean automatically turning to the third man in the small room, the young translator he’d hired named Viktor.

  Sean knew his impatience was showing.

  “What is he saying, Viktor?” he asked, unable to quell the sharpness in his tone.

  “He asks your forgiveness,” the translator replied, his accent thick. “He says there is nothing he can do. His superiors have decided that you cannot take Sona from the orphanage. You cannot adopt her. You cannot take the child from the country.”

  Each cannot struck Sean like a boxer’s swift jab to the jaw. The overwhelming disappointment wrenching in his gut was enough to make him want to double over in agony. How could this be happening? All the problems were supposed to have been ironed out before he’d left the United States. Now here he was, halfway around the world, finding out that his problems were only just beginning.

  “I don’t understand.” Again Sean addressed the Kyrcznovian Child Services employee.

  However, it was Viktor who explained further. “You have no wife, Mr. Hudson.”

  “But everyone already knew that weeks ago! I was told by the agency in the States—” Sean lost control, something he hated to do, but this stressful situation was enough to send him through the roof. He raised his voice and his speech became more animated with the use of his upraised hands. “My being single wasn’t supposed to be a problem! I was told that the number of children made homeless by the war was rising at a rate that caused a flexibility of the law.”

  More conversation passed between Viktor and the government worker, and in that instant, Sean’s eyes traveled down to the black-and-white photo he clutched in his fingers. He knew quite a bit about the toddler he’d come to Kyrcznovia to adopt.

  The little girl depicted in the photograph looked so frail. Her dark brown gaze—“fearful doe-eyes” Sean had dubbed them—clearly depicted a vulnerability that had affected him to an astounding degree. Her nut-brown hair had been hacked off at chin length. From all reports, she was healthy—or rather, she had been healthy when he’d applied for the adoption eight weeks ago. Not knowing how she fared at this moment was torturous. He ran a gentle finger down the edge of the picture.

  Sean wanted to be a daddy. No—he wanted to be Sona’s daddy. Desperately.

  The poor child had lost her parents when the couple had mistakenly walked across a small meadow just outside their border town that had been laced with land mines. Kyrcznovian land mines. Those two people couldn’t have had a clue that they were taking their very lives into their hands, that their cutting across the field would leave their only child parentless.

  This cute toddler—the child who had captured Sean’s heart from the moment he’d laid eyes on her picture—had been orphaned by “friendly fire,” as the U.S. armed forces would have called it. The very idea made Sean sick to his very soul.

  Sona. His beautiful, lonely, needy little girl.

  But these days in Kyrcznovia, Sona’s story wasn’t exceptional or unusual. So many children had been left hungry and homeless by the civil war raging in the small, newly developing country that the government had made a plea. People all over the world were called upon via the media to step up and help these kids, to come forward and provide homes. And families… and love.

  Kyrcznovia was a beautiful land, filled with culture and wonderful people. And Sean was no stranger to the country. He’d visited here, years ago, when Kyrcznovia had been part of Russia, and his parents had brought him abroad. He’d stayed in this part of the country long enough to make friends. Of course, having been a happy-go-lucky twelve-year-old at the time, Sean had allowed himself to lose touch with the boys he’d met. But he never forgot the picturesque countryside.

  At his home in Pennsylvania, Sean had been watching the evening news when he’d learned of the plight of the children of war-torn Kyrcznovia. Something deep inside him—something he still didn’t quite understand—had been stirred, and he’d found himself calling the toll-free phone number on the television screen before he’d even realized it.

  That had been two months ago.

  Working through an adoption agency in the States, Sean had first procured Sona’s name. Then he’d received her file and photo. Slowly but surely all the pieces had fallen into place. He’d even been told that his dyed-in-the-wool bachelor status was no problem. These children urgently needed to be placed in good homes. It mattered not that some of those homes would be headed by sing
le parents. The agency back in America had guaranteed that his being single would not stand in the way of his adopting Sona.

  However, now he was discovering that the assurance he’d been given was wrong. Resentment-stirringly, ire-provokingly wrong.

  “That may have been so—”

  The sound of Viktor’s voice had Sean glancing up from the photo.

  “—yesterday.”

  “Yesterday?” Sean didn’t even try to hide his angry disbelief. “And will you please tell me what could have happened in the short span of twenty-four hours that has changed all the damned rules?”

  Viktor smiled. “Forgive me, Mr. Hudson. That was just…” He paused. “How do I say it… a figure of speech. I did not mean yesterday literally.”

  When Sean didn’t return the smile, the young man’s humorous expression faded. “You see,” Viktor continued, more seriously, “our country has just claimed its independence. Our government is just now being born. It is exciting. But there are… drawbacks. Our leaders are inexperienced. The rules here change from week to week.” This time he couldn’t stop his chuckle. “Sometimes from day-to-day.”

  Sean saw that his chances of taking little Sona home with him were dwindling by the moment. Tension bracketed his mouth as he unwittingly pressed his lips together tightly.

  “We will get it right,” Viktor promised. “Eventually. But you must try to understand. Everyone involved is only trying to do what is best. The—”

  “What is best?” Sean raked his fingers through his hair. “This man—” he indicated the Child Services worker sitting at the desk “—honestly believes that it’s best for me to go home without Sona?”

  After a silent moment, Viktor softly said, “He is not trying to do what is best for you. Our government is trying to do what is best for the children.”

  “Those children are hungry!” Sean countered. “They’re cold. They’re scared. They’re all alone in the world.” Then he muttered in disgust, “Yet they’re jammed into tiny, overcrowded rooms like… like little animals. There are twenty children for every adult caregiver in those orphanages. I’ve seen the reports. I know that—”

  The man behind the desk spoke. And Viktor’s response was so sharp, it had Sean asking, “What? What did he say?”

  Viktor shook his head at Sean. “Nothing. He is only trying to lighten the mood. He made… how do I say it… a funny. No, a joke.”

  The sudden nervousness in the young translator’s eyes caused the little hairs to raise on the back of Sean’s neck. Something was up. Something wasn’t right. “It didn’t sound like a joke,” he said.

  Viktor only averted his eyes.

  “I’m paying you to translate,” Sean reminded the young man. There was a hint of warning in his tone as he said, “So translate.”

  “H-he said,” Viktor stammered, “that for a hundred of your American dollars he would find you a young and sturdy Kyrcznovian wife. He said it would take him two days only. He suggests you go home with a whole new family.”

  At the sound of the word wife, Sean’s chin dipped low and his whole body tensed. A permanent relationship was something he’d never have. Never.

  “He meant no harm,” Viktor rushed to say. “If you are not interested, he understands. However, if his superiors were to discover his offer, he would lose his job. Your discretion is much appreciated.”

  Sean took a moment to steel himself before looking directly into Viktor’s face, his own eyes reflecting a harshness he was simply unable to contain.

  “As you said,” Sean replied, his jaw remaining tight and unyielding, “he was only making a joke.” After giving the man behind the desk an unsmiling nod, he turned to leave.

  “Mr. Hudson,” Viktor called after him, “please remember that the rules could again change. Next month. Next week. Even tomorrow. Please do not be discouraged.”

  Discouraged didn’t begin to describe how Sean felt. He’d come too far, both in physical miles and in emotional commitment, to leave this country without that little girl. But he was devastated to realize that he had so little say in the most important matter of Sona’s life, in the most important matter of his own life.

  Sean didn’t bother responding to Viktor’s encouragement. Instead he just kept walking down the dingy green hallway, his heart so heavy he felt as if it were a hunk of jagged lead wedged against his ribs.

  ***

  Nicole Willis was in a fix. However, she wasn’t too worried about the situation. Sure, this turn of events was unexpected. But she’d been in this position before. Well…maybe not this particular position, with no job, no money, and no prospects for either in anything resembling the near future. However, something would turn up. Some solution to her problem would soon present itself. It always did.

  This hotel and its restaurant looked quite modern compared to the dozen or so others she’d visited this morning. She pushed her way through the door and scanned the room. Several customers sat at tables that had been meticulously lined into even rows. One dark-haired man, Nicki couldn’t help noticing, sat staring into his coffee mug as if he had the weight of the whole world on his shoulders. The clean, white tablecloths had a crisp stiffness that only plenty of starch and a hot iron could achieve. The floor was spotless, and so were the fresh white shirts of the staff. She wouldn’t mind working in a place like this. At least, until she could make enough money to travel to her next teaching assignment.

  Nicki got the attention of a waiter and asked where she might find the man in charge. Without stopping on his trek toward the kitchen, the waiter pointed toward the back of the room. Her gaze followed his direction and she saw the door to what could only be the manager’s office. With purposeful steps, she made a beeline for it.

  She smoothed her palms down the fabric of her skirt, rehearsing in her head her most persuasive arguments. She urgently needed a job. For if she didn’t make some money soon, she’d be in deep trouble.

  Shaking her head, she shoved aside the cloud of worry and focused instead on what she would say that would procure her employment here. She simply had to find a paying position for herself. Today!

  ***

  The coffee in the heavy ceramic mug Sean cradled between his palms was bitter and so strong that it had nearly burned away his taste buds since he’d been idling away his time here in the hotel’s restaurant. The past four days since he’d walked out of the Child Services department had been the longest of his life. The hours seemed to draw out into endless infinity. And in all of that time little Sona had never left his mind.

  Was she hungry? Hurting? Frightened? Was she being watched closely in that overcrowded orphanage? Or was she being teased? Tormented? Abused?

  Every single moment of not knowing was sheer agony for him. Were these the kinds of worries parents suffered for their children? Were these the fears a father felt…?

  Something akin to a tap on his shoulder had his chin lifting, although no one was close enough to touch him. His gaze was automatically drawn to the woman making her way toward the back of the restaurant

  Her glorious head of long, wavy red hair was utterly striking. Her face was hidden from clear view, but he could see the rest of her…all five and a half feet of her feminine curves. He soon had a rear view, and the way her fanny gently swayed from side to side with each step was enough to make any red-blooded man salivate.

  Sean swallowed, his gaze darting down to his mug of coffee. Then he shot her another quick look, just in time to see her lift her balled-up hand and rap on the office door.

  The woman participated in a fluid, unhesitating conversation with the elderly man Sean knew to be the restaurant manager. However, even though she spoke the language of Kyrcznovia, wore the same clothing as other women he’d seen on the streets and in the shops, there was still something …off, something not quite right about the scene he watched unfolding. But he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

  When her tone turned urgent, and then pleading, Sean became openly rivet
ed to what was taking place between the man and woman at the far end of the room. He heard her say, “Prosím,” several times.

  Now, Sean didn’t know much Kyrcznovian, but during his daily visits to the Child Services building with Viktor, he’d discovered how to pronounce please perfectly…and he had. Many times.

  The woman was obviously in some kind of trouble. She was either trying to explain her problem to the manager, or she was begging him to help her solve it. Sean couldn’t say which.

  He wondered what misfortune she…

  Blinking, he caught himself and stopped the thought, midstream.

  What was he doing? He shouldn’t be wasting energy pondering someone else’s dilemma. And some woman’s at that!

  He’d made a solemn vow to himself years ago that he’d make a berth around people of the female persuasion. A wide berth.

  It was then that the manager firmly shut the office door—right in the woman’s face. The defeat and weariness in her rounded shoulders had Sean up and out of his seat before he even realized it.

  You will not speak to her, a stern voice told him. You’ve got enough problems of your own. Walk right on by. The door to the rest room is just ten feet away. Head for it. Now!

  It was good advice. It really was. And he had every intention of following the silent commands the oh-so-logical part of his brain dictated. But just as he got near her, she heaved a heavy sigh and whispered, “Oh, my.”

  Sean stopped in his tracks so abruptly that he had to lift his arms just a fraction to keep his balance. “You speak English.”