It would be so easy to lean down and kiss Joniâ¦
But Carter needed answers first. âDo I make you tremble, Joni?â
She drew in a ragged breath, but didnât answer him.
He slid both of his hands up her arms to her shoulders, kneading away the tension there. âBecause you sure as hell shake up my world.â
This time he didnât stop himself. When she turned her head away, he leaned in and kissed her neck, his lips resting against her skin as he spoke. âYouâve got me thinking about thingsâ¦wanting thingsâ¦I havenât dared think about before.â
He moved up, feathering kisses along her jaw, until he was hovering over her mouth. He pulled her closer, crushing her to him. He kissed the side of her mouth, and then her lips, nipping, licking, suckling, lavishing attention on her sensitive mouth. âI want you,â he whispered. âAnd Iâm not going to let you pretend anymore that you donât want me.â
She let out a gasp. âYes,â she whispered.
âYes, what?â
âYes, I want you!â
Dear Reader,
Do you believe in love at first sight? In finding your soul mate? Iâll admit I believe in these things. What can I sayâIâm a true romantic.
The hero of this book, Carter Sullivan, started out to be an entirely different type of man. But the moment I wrote his first scene I realized that underneath this experienced street cop was a romantic who believed that Fate would send him the woman of his dreams.
My heroine, Joni Montgomery, thinks finding the right man requires a practical approach, like choosing a financial investment or planning a schedule.
When practical and romantic meet, sparks fly. Whose approach is the right one? Open the book and find out.
I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love to hear from readers. Write to me in care of Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, M3B 3K9, Canada, or e-mail me at [email protected].
Best wishes,
Cindi Myers
AS EMERGENCIES WENT, this one was definitely a Code Blue. Joni Montgomery leaned back against the nursesâ station counter at San Antonioâs Santa Rosa Hospital and stared at the phone in her hand as if it might morph into an octopus at any moment. After all, things like that happened in nightmares, didnât they? And this couldnât possibly be real.
She put the phone back to her ear and tried to sound calm. âNow, Mama, maybe you misunderstood. G.P. couldnât possibly be coming here this time of year. Sheâs always in Charlotte for the V.A. Air Show.â
âI wish I was wrong, but I know what she said. Your grandmother Pettigrew is coming to San Antonio in two weeks and sheâs staying until she finds you a husband.â
Joni ground her teeth and thrust one hand into the pocket of her nurseâs smock. She could have sworn sheâd stashed some samples of extra-strength headache pills there earlier. All of a sudden, she could feel a mother of a headache coming on. âWhy does she have to do this now? In fact, why does she have to do this at all? Doesnât she think I can find my own man?â
âApparently not. She said sheâs waited twenty-six years and sheâs not going to wait any longer for you to find a suitable husband.â
Joni squeezed against the counter to allow an EKG cart to pass. âMama, you know the kind of man G.P. thinks is suitable.â She closed her eyes, picturing the parade of race-car drivers, fighter pilots and bull riders her grandmother had sent her way. Thereâd even been one bomb demolition expert. Give a man a dangerous job or a reckless attitude and he was prime husband material as far as G.P. was concerned.
âShe thinks you need more excitement in your life.â
âBeing an emergency department nurse isnât exciting enough?â Joni looked at the row of crash carts ready for use, the curtained exam rooms and the half-dozen doctors and nurses moving busily among them. One Saturday night around this place made a person long for the mundane and ordinary.
âWhatâs wrong with a boring man?â she asked. âYou married a boring man.â Joniâs father was a tax assessor whose idea of excitement was Friday night at the video store.
âYour father may seem boring to you, but heâs actually very romantic.â
Joni resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her entire family was addicted to romance, leaving Joni the odd woman out. âRomance is overrated,â she said, not for the first time. Other things were much more important in a relationship: dependability, stability, integrity. Things she hadnât found in the right combination yet, but she was sure she would, given time to do things her own way.
âRomance is not overrated to your grandmother. And not to you, if youâd only admit it.â