His eyes speared to hers as he straightened too, rocked back on his heels. âYou thought I knew about Jesse?â
âYes, I did.â Her eyes narrowed. âAre you suggesting that I am ashamed of my son?â
âI wouldnât dream of making such an accusation,â he snapped.
âThen whatâs the big deal, Simon?â
But she knew what the big deal was. She and this man had forged a connection from the moment theyâd swapped day-from-hell stories. The thought of her with another man infuriated him. Just like the thought of him with another woman curved her fingers into claws.
It made no sense. It couldnât go anywhere, but it existed.
He seized her wrist, brought his face close to hers and slugged her with a super-duper dose of his scent. She wanted to swoon.
âIf Iâd known you were a mother I would neverââ
He broke off, released her wrist.
âWhat?â she challenged, glancing around to make sure their exchange hadnât given rise to any curious glances. She rubbed at her wrist, wanting to rid it of the betraying jump of desire. âYou wouldnât have kissed me?â
âNo. I wouldnât have.â
Praise for Michelle Douglas
âMichelle Douglas makes an outstanding debut
with HIS CHRISTMAS ANGEL, a complex, richly emotional story. The characters are handled especially well, as are the many conflicts and relationships. This oneâs a keeper.â âRomantic Times BOOKreviews
âPacked with a smouldering tension and underlying
passion, THE LONERâS GUARDED HEART by Michelle Douglas will leave readers wanting more⦠Ms Douglas has written a story with characters that you would swear youâve known for years and of a romance that brings together two souls who are seeking the person that can make them whole⦠If you are a reader who loves tender, heartfelt stories then this book is a must-buy, because it has all these elements and so much more.â âCataromance.com
Look out for more fantastic stories from Michelle coming soon in Mills & Boon>® Romance!
At the age of eight Michelle Douglas was asked what she wanted to be when she grew up. She answered, âA writer.â Years later she read an article about romance-writing and thought, Ooh, thatâll be fun. She was right. When sheâs not writing she can usually be found with her nose buried in a book. She is currently enrolled in an English Masters programme for the sole purpose of indulging her reading and writing habits further. She lives in a leafy suburb of Newcastle, on Australiaâs east coast, with her own romantic heroâhusband Greg, who is the inspiration behind all her happy endings. Michelle would love you to visit her at her website: www.michelledouglas.com
Recent titles by this author:
HIS CHRISTMAS ANGEL
THE LONERâS GUARDED HEART
To Bryony Green and Sally Williamson.
your editorial input made all the difference. Thank you.
CHAPTER ONE
KATE reached the last item in the file, closed her eyes, closed the file and counted to ten. Then she opened her eyes, opened the file and started again. The bell above the door jangled, telling her someone had entered the office, but she didnât move from her crouch in front of the filing cabinet. In fact, it was hard to move at all with all the boxes piled around her.
âHello?â
At any other time a voice like that wouldâve had her swinging around in curiosityâ¦and anticipation. The voice was deep and masculine, with an intriguing British burr. A lot of tourists with a lot of different accents passed through this part of the world and Kate loved accents. Sheâd once meant to travel to some of those faraway places and immerse herself in different cultures, different languages. But that was before sheâd fallen pregnant with Jesse. This particular accent, though, was her all-time favourite and could turn her insides to mush in the space of a heartbeat.
âI wonât be a moment,â she called.
Half hidden by the desk, her customer probably couldnât see her. And although she usually made it a point to deal with prospective customers first, she took a deep breath and carefully examined the file again, lifting out and checking each document before moving to the next one.
Darn it. It wasnât there. Where had she put it? The accountant had wanted it last week. Sheâd promised to get it to him today. She slapped the side of the filing cabinet as if it were its fault. She glanced around at all the boxes and groaned.
âIs something wrong?â
She couldnât resist that accent any longer. âIâm sorry.â She turned. âIâ¦â
She blinked. Air squeezed out of her lungs. Oh, dear Lord, who cared about finding receipts for boat repairs when a man like this stood in her office?
She tried to catch her breath, but it flitted in and out of her lungs with more speed than grace, evading her every attempt to harness it. She thought she ought to stand, but the longer she stared at him the more the world tilted to one side and, as she had no desire to fall flat on her face at his feet, she decided sheâd better stay right where she was. Very carefully, she lowered her knees to the ground so she knelt rather than crouched. More stabilityâthat was what she needed. And breakfast. She absolutely, positively shouldnât have skipped breakfast. Low blood sugar and all that.