Dear Reader
The pre-writing phase of a book is always interesting for me. Usually I come up with my characters first, figure out what their issues and conflicts are, and then I build a plot around them. Sometimes doing so is easy. Sometimes itâs not. The plot for this book fell into the latter category.
Indeed, Logan and Malloryâs story went through so many incarnations before I ever began writing the first chapter that I finally gave up numbering my outlines. What eventually became the synopsis for CONFIDENTIAL: EXPECTING! actually bore the moniker âLogan and Mallory Newest Versionâ.
Thankfully, writing Logan and Malloryâs story proved to be much easier than writing that synopsis.
I hope you enjoy CONFIDENTIAL: EXPECTING! As always, Iâd love to hear what you think. You can reach me through my website at www.jackiebraun.com
Best wishes
Jackie Braun
âIâd like to see you again.â
That stopped her. âYou would?â The line deepened between her brows even though she grinned. âTo keep an enemy close?â
Logan didnât smile. âNo.â
âThen why?â Her head angled in challenge.
The ball was in his court. He was grimly serious when he said, âBecause of this.â
He closed the distance between them as he spoke, and pulled her into his arms before he could think better of it. His mouth found hers before she could mount a protest. Instead, she rose on tiptoe and boldly kissed him back. When he would have ended it she was just getting started, tilting her head in the opposite direction and deepening the contact.
Zip. Zap. Zing.
He wanted her.
âIS THIS seat taken?â
Mallory Stevens knew that deep, seductive voice. As best she could, she braced herself before looking up into a pair of smiling gray-green eyes and a face that would have made Adonis seem homely by comparison. It was no use.
Zip, zap, zing!
Just that fast, her hormones snapped to attention and her limbs turned liquid. It was a bizarre reaction, though sheâd be lying if she labeled it unpleasant. Nor was it unprecedented. Sheâd experienced its twin a week earlier when sheâd met Logan Bartholomew for the first time.
Theyâd been in his office, and sheâd written it off then as a fluke. Sheâd been working too many hours. Sheâd barely slept the night before. Sheâd gone without the company of a man for way, way too long.
But a fluke didnât happen twice. When it did, and it involved a member of the opposite sex, it was called something else: attraction.
Mallory sucked in a breath before letting it out slowly between her teeth. She certainly had nothing against mingling with members of the opposite sex. She liked men, but she had a rule about mixing business with pleasure. It was a no-no. Logan Batholomew was business, even if everything about him made her body hum with pleasure.
âYouâre welcome to join me, Doctor,â she told him. Though it took an effort, her tone was blessedly nonchalant. She hoped the smile she sent him was the same.
He folded his athletic frame into the chair, managing to look both elegant and masculine. For the umpteenth time in their short acquaintance, she found herself thinking his gorgeous looks were wasted on the radio. He hosted a call-in program that had all of Chicago talking.
âI thought weâd agreed it was just Logan,â he said.
Mallory knew he was wrong. Even though, now that he was here, sitting through the Windy City Women of Action luncheon sheâd been assigned to cover held far more appeal, a qualifier such as just didnât apply when it came to Logan. Everything about the guy was off the charts, from his leading-man looks and tri-athlete physique to the way his show had burned its way to the top of the ratings in a little over a year. It was no wonder heâd been voted Chicagoâs most eligible bachelor in a recent poll sponsored by her newspaper.
As a reporter, Mallory reminded herself that she was interested in more than his heart-palpitating appeal and sigh-worthy exterior. She was interested in a story and she smelled one here. Not necessarily the sort that went with his sophisticated cologne and designer tie, and certainly not the trivial one that had landed her in his office the week before.
In her experience, no one was ever as perfect as this guy appeared to be with his Harvard degree and penchant for supporting worthwhile causes. She intended to unearth the skeletons in his closet and then expose each and every one of them. Maybe then her editor would forgive her for the embarrassing faux pas that had the newspaperâs lawyers fending off a libel suit and Mallory writing the kind of general assignment fluff that usually went to the college interns.