âYou want me to come back as Mollyâs nanny?â
âNot as her nanny,â Blake replied. âAs my wife.â
He could certainly understand Graceâs slack-jawed astonishment. Sheâd wormed her way into his life and Mollyâs heart. Sheâd lied to him. Yet the hole sheâd left behind had grown deeper with each hour she was gone.
Mollyâs unexpected arrival had already turned his calm, comfortable routine upside down. This doe-eyed blonde had kicked it all to hell. So he felt a savage satisfaction to see his chaotic feelings mirrored on her face.
âYouâre crazy! I canât marry you!â
âWhy not?â
âBecauseâ¦because⦠What about love, Blake? Andâ¦sex?â
With a smooth move, he pushed himself off the sofa. Grace wasnât prepared when he stopped mere inches away. With him standing so close, her chest rose and fell with every breath.
âThatâs not a problem, Grace. The sex is definitely doable.â
Dear Reader,
When my husband and I spent a week in the small town of Saint-Rémy-de-Provence in the south of France, we absolutely fell in love with the place. And since Iâm always on the lookout for exciting locales for books, I knew Saint-Rémy would eventually show up in one.
I didnât, however, expect the road that led my characters there would be so bumpy and pitted with tension, sexual and otherwise. I had great fun overcoming the roadblocks with Grace and Blakeâhope you do, too!
All my best, and happy reading,
Merline Lovelace
A career Air Force officer, MERLINE LOVELACE served at bases all over the world. When she hung up her uniform for the last time she decided to combine her love of adventure with a flair for storytelling, basing many of her tales on her own experiences in uniform. Since then sheâs produced more than ninety action-packed sizzlers, many of which have made the USA TODAY and Waldenbooks bestseller lists. Over eleven million copies of her books are available in some thirty countries.
When sheâs not tied to her keyboard, Merline enjoys reading, chasing little white balls around the fairways of Oklahoma and traveling to new and exotic locales with her handsome husband, Al. Check her website at www.merlinelovelace.com or friend her on Facebook for news and information about her latest releases.
To the Elite Eight, and the wonderful times weâve shared. Thanks for giving me such terrific fodder for my books!
His fists balled inside the pockets of his tuxedo pants, Blake Dalton forced a smile as he stood amid the wedding guests jamming the black-and-white-tiled foyer of his motherâs Oklahoma City mansion. The lavish reception was finally winding down. The newlyweds had just paused in their descent of the foyerâs circular marble staircase so the bride could toss her bouquet. The couple were mere moments from departing for their honeymoon in Tuscany.
Blake was damned if heâd block their escape. His twin had waged a tumultuous battle to win the stubbornly independent pilot heâd finally finessed to the altar. Alex had earned these two weeks in Tuscany with his new bride, away from his heavy responsibilities as CEO of Dalton International.
Blake had no problem taking up the slack in his absence. An MBA, a law degree and almost a decade of handling the corporationâs complex legal affairs had honed the leadership and managerial skills heâd developed as DIâs CFO. He and Alex regularly took over sole control of the multibillion-dollar conglomerate during each otherâs frequent business trips.
No, the job wasnât the problem.
Nor was it their mother, whoâd waged a fierce and unrelenting campaign to get her sons married and settled down for over a year now.
Blakeâs glance cut to the matriarch of the Dalton clan. Her hair was still jet-black, with only a hint of silver at the temples. She wore a melon-colored Dior lace dress and an expression of smug satisfaction as she surveyed the newly married couple. Blake knew exactly what she was thinking. One son down, one to go.
But it was the baby peering over his motherâs shoulder that made his fist bunch even tighter and his heart squeeze inside his chest. In the weeks since person or persons unknown had left the six-month-old on his motherâs doorstep, Molly had become as essential to Blake as breathing.
DNA testing had proved with 99.99 percent certainty that the bright-eyed infant girl was a Dalton. Unfortunately, the tests hadnât returned the same accuracy as to which of the Dalton brothers had fathered the baby. Although even identical twins carried distinctive DNA, there were enough similarities to fog the question of paternity. The report had indicated a seventy-seven percent probability that Alex was the father, but the issue couldnât be completely resolved until the lab matched the fatherâs DNA with that of the mother.