When Valentines Collide
When it came to revitalizing relationships, Dr. Chante Valentine and Dr. Matthew Valentine knew all the right moves–except when it came to mending their own volatile vows. Since divorce would jeopardize their respective careers, the love gurus reluctantly agreed to a two-week "sex-therapy" retreat.Getting more from the seminar than they bargained for, Chante suddenly found herself appreciating her husband's strong, lean physique for the first time in years, and Matthew couldn't deny his attraction to sexy Chante. But when a devastating secret is revealed, will the love doctors lose their second chance at love…or add a new little Valentine to their family?
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This book is dedicated to the new angel on my shoulder—
Alice Coleman Finnley. I can still hear your laughter.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
Chapter 1
“He’s an egotistical, self-righteous son of a bitch,” Chanté Valentine spat, storming through her best friend and publishing editor, Edie Hathaway’s front door. “The man thinks he’s God’s gift to psychology.”
“Please, come in,” Edie mumbled in the wake of her trail, sighed, and then closed the door. Shaking her head and tightening her belt around her curvy, plus-size figure, she followed her friend back into the dining room.
“I can’t do this any longer,” Chanté announced as she marched straight toward the bar.
“It’s eight in the morning.”
“What can I say? I like vodka with my eggs.”
Edie patiently watched her bestselling author splash out a glass of her expensive liquor. “You could add a dash of orange juice so I’d feel better about you getting something nutritional out of that drink.”
Chanté smirked, but complied. “I want a divorce.”
“Absolutely not.” Edie crossed her arms. “It would ruin both of your careers.”
Chanté downed a deep gulp and then came up for air. “I don’t care.”
“Sure you do.” Edie shuffled over to the table where her breakfast grew cold. “Besides, you still love him…or you would’ve left him a long time ago.”
“Ha! I’ve been trying to leave Matthew for the last two years, but it’s always ‘wait until after contract negotiations, wait until after you write your book, wait until after the book is published.’ Now the blasted thing has been number one on the New York Times bestseller list for ten weeks running and you’re still telling me to wait.”
“You should wait.” Edie shook her head as she slathered butter onto a biscuit. “How would it look if America’s two top relationship gurus divorced each other? Don’t you think we would have a credibility issue here?”
“Oh, give me a break.” Chanté downed a second gulp. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you, Seth and Matthew have all teamed up to drive me nuts.”
“All right.” Edie lowered her biscuit without taking a bite. “I know I’m going to regret asking, but what did Matthew do this time?”
One of Chanté’s brows rose quizzically. “I take it you didn’t watch Letterman last night?”
“Tivo. I’d planned to watch it this morning,” Edie said, sounding concerned. “Why? What happened?”
Chanté’s eyes narrowed as she simmered. “Letterman snidely pointed out the differences in our approaches in relationship counseling and then asked how people should choose whose advice to follow.”
Edie leaned back in her chair and brushed back her thick straw curls from her face. “And…what did he say?”
“That people should follow the advice from the one who graduated from a real school.”
Edie’s mouth rounded silently.
“You should have seen him sitting there as proud as a peacock, cramming his overpriced education down everyone’s throat.” Chanté sloshed her drink down onto the breakfast bar and flailed her hands in the air. “Oh, look at me. I’m a Princeton graduate while my wife—”
“Graduated from Kissessme College in Karankawa, Texas,” Edie finished.
“Which is a damn good school,” Chanté snapped. “I busted my butt with two waitressing jobs to get my degree. I didn’t have a rich daddy to write me a blank check.”
Edie frowned. “I know you two are going through a rough patch—”
“This is more than a rough patch.”
“But sometimes I wonder how the hell you two got together in the first place.”
“Oh, that’s easy.” Chanté strode to the table and pulled out a chair. “Ten years ago, Matthew Valentine was handsome—”
“He still is.”
“Charming—”
“Check.”
“Successful.”
“Double-check.”
Chanté’s lips curled wickedly. “And great in bed.”
Edie’s eyebrows rose with surprise and interest. “Oh?”
“Now he seems to think all he has to do is get his groove on and wait for a baby. A baby. That’s all he ever talks about. After nine miscarriages you’d think he would give it a rest.” Chanté drew a deep breath.
“So I take it you haven’t told him you’re—?”
“How can I?” She sloshed down another gulp, exhaled, and then finally slumped her shoulders in defeat. “Nine miscarriages. Five years. I should have started trying to have a family earlier.”
“Come on. You wanted a career first. That’s understandable.”
“Yeah, but now I’m pushing forty and my body attacks every fertilized egg like I’ve caught a disease or something.” She shook her head. “I can’t help but wonder if I’d tried sooner I’d already have our baby as opposed to being on this wild race against my biological clock—a race Matthew is determined to win.” Chanté shook her head during another sigh. “I just need a break—physically and emotionally.”
“Is that why you kicked him out of your bedroom?”
“How did you—?”
“Seth.” Edie filled in the blanks. “He’ll never admit it, but those two gossip more than we do. If I remember correctly it’s been…what—five months?”
