The Doctor's Little Secret
Straight-Arrow M.D. Meets Shoot-From-The-Hip Lady CopAnd they are so wrong for each other!Russ McKenzie knows it the first time he runs afoul of Rachel Byers and stares down the barrel of her gun. But when the town's new doctor needs a temporary fiancée to gain custody of the daughter he's kept secret for the past five years, he's sure the shapely policewoman's chutzpah will compensate for what she lacks in feminine wiles.As they become enmeshed in the dicey charade, however, he starts to fall for Rachel and her refreshingly frank ways. Pretty soon he's wishing he had his own set of handcuffs, to guarantee that she stays where she belongs–with his little girl, and of course with him!
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“The problem is…”
He stopped.
Rachel waited for him to gather his thoughts. No hurry. Besides, she was enjoying the electricity in the air and the guy’s low-key yet unmistakable masculinity—a refreshing change from the macho specimens she knew.
“Lauren’s mother insists that she belongs in a family,” Russ explained. “She remembers me the way I was five years ago, not remotely ready for parenting.”
“How did you change her mind?” This ought to be interesting.
He cleared his throat. “I told her I was engaged.”
That was weird. “To who?”
“Well…you.”
Dear Reader,
The story of Russ and Rachel launches a new series about police officers and children. It actually began as two separate ideas.
First I pictured a woman who had survived a terrible car crash and was finally getting her life on track ten years later. She and her two closest friends volunteered at a homework center and became involved in the lives of needy children. At age thirty, they’d almost given up on love.
The second idea concerned three police officers (originally all male) who were reassessing their lives after narrowly escaping death. Each had to tackle an issue concerning children—perhaps a child given up for adoption, or a desire to have a child—now that life had given him a second chance.
These two ideas mingled in my mind until I realized that they belonged together. In the course of working out the stories, one of the officers became a woman—Rachel—and the man who’d given up a child for adoption became a doctor.
Subsequent stories concern Rachel’s friend Connie and her next-door nemesis, Hale; and Marta—the accident survivor—and the department’s Romeo, Derek. I hope you enjoy them!
Best,
Jacqueline Diamond
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A former Associated Press reporter, Jacqueline Diamond has written more than sixty novels and received a Career Achievement Award from Romantic Times BOOKreviews. Jackie lives in Southern California with her husband, two sons and two cats. You can e-mail her at [email protected] or visit her Web site at www.jacquelinediamond.com.
Books by Jacqueline Diamond
HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE
913—THE IMPROPERLY PREGNANT PRINCESS
962—DIAGNOSIS: EXPECTING BOSS’S BABY
971—PRESCRIPTION: MARRY HER IMMEDIATELY
978—PROGNOSIS: A BABY? MAYBE
1046—THE BABY’S BODYGUARD
1075—THE BABY SCHEME
1094—THE POLICE CHIEF’S LADY*
1101—NINE-MONTH SURPRISE*
1109—A FAMILY AT LAST*
1118—DAD BY DEFAULT*
1130—THE DOCTOR + FOUR*
As always, for Kurt
Contents
Chapter One
Under other circumstances, Rachel Byers might have enjoyed being invited to a party by a couple of guys. Especially great-looking guys with guns.
Unfortunately, her buddies at the Villazon, California, police department thought of her as one of the boys, with maybe a few minor differences.
Take this request from Detective Hale Crandall, the beer-bash host: “Yo, Rache, how about bringing a DVD tomorrow night? A chick flick would be fine. Like the kind with mud wrestling.”
Fine. As long as he didn’t expect her to do the mud wrestling. Speaking of wrestling, she could pin Hale as often as not, and he knew it.
That might be, she supposed, part of her problem.
“Bring a couple of girlfriends, too,” suggested Officer Derek Reed, a Brad Pitt clone whose womanizing reputation had earned him the nickname Sergeant Hit and Run from the nurses at the local hospital. “You know my type. Big blond hair, big—” he made a descriptive gesture with his hands “—you get the picture.”
“If I had girlfriends like that, I wouldn’t let them anywhere near you clowns,” Rachel returned. “Excuse me. Some of us have to patrol. We can’t all work sissy desk jobs.”
Hale snorted. Derek, who seemed less than thrilled about his recent assignment as head of community relations and public information, scowled.
Rachel would hate flying a desk. She loved wearing a uniform and a gun, and enjoyed a little physical action now and then to set the juices flowing.
Too bad she wasn’t getting any physical action in her personal life. At five foot eleven, she either intimidated men or inspired them…to invite her to join their softball team. If she ever met Mr. Right, she’d have to arrest him to reach first base.
Wait. Scratch the reference to first base.
“I wish you wouldn’t encourage them,” muttered Elise Masterson, the other woman on the swing shift. “They’re sexist enough as it is.” She fell into step beside Rachel as they walked toward the back of the building.
“Were they being sexist?” Rachel had difficulty figuring out the finer points of political correctness.
She sympathized with Elise, whose efforts to skin back her blond hair in a bun did little to discourage the masculine attention she considered so annoying. Men had an amazing ability to detect curves even beneath a Kevlar vest.
