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That Summer In Maine
That Summer In Maine
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That Summer In Maine

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That Summer In Maine
Muriel Jensen

A Season of ChangeSpending the summer with sexy single dad Duffy March was not exactly what Maggie Lawton had planned for her first vacation in years. Yes, she needed a rest, but sleeping in one of Duffy's guest rooms–with the dangerously attractive man from her past right next door–was certainly not relaxing!Yet that summer in Maine was about to change her life in unimaginable ways.Unexpected kisses on a sunlit beach, entertaining "family" frolics in the surf–all of these magical moments had Maggie rethinking her carefully scheduled life. Her wounded heart yearned for all Duffy and his adorable little boys offered, but could Maggie settle in for a long winter's nap as the wife and mother they so desperately craved?

Dear Reader,

I celebrate twenty years of writing for Harlequin just as Harlequin’s American Romance line celebrates twenty years of publishing books for you. So how appropriate that my latest release, That Summer in Maine, is offered as part of American Romance’s 20th Anniversary Celebration.

I feel a particular devotion to the line because of its promise to produce books about heart, home and happiness, because—given those ingredients—anything is possible. My life is a case in point.

My mother died when I was four months old, and her sister and brother-in-law extended themselves to give me a home.

In Los Angeles, a city of millions, the one man in the world who could understand my need for kids, cats and chocolate found me and offered me his heart.

And when infertility threatened to deprive us of the children we wanted, we found three of them anyway—and all at once! Happiness!

Everything you want is out there—you just have to believe in love. And read Harlequin American Romance for inspiration.

My best wishes to you!

Dear Reader,

Welcome to another wonderful month at Harlequin American Romance. You’ll notice our covers have a brand-new look, but rest assured that we still have the editorial you know and love just inside.

What a lineup we have for you, as reader favorite Muriel Jensen helps us celebrate our 20th Anniversary with her latest release. That Summer in Maine is a beautiful tale of a woman who gets an unexpected second chance at love and family with the last man she imagines. And author Sharon Swan pens the fourth title in our ongoing series MILLIONAIRE, MONTANA. You won’t believe what motivates ever-feuding neighbors Dev and Amanda to take a hasty trip to the altar in Four-Karat Fiancеe.

Speaking of weddings, we have two other tales of marriage this month. Darlene Scalera pens the story of a jilted bride on the hunt for her disappearing groom in May the Best Man Wed. (Hint: the bride may just be falling for her husband-to-be’s brother.) Dianne Castell’s High-Tide Bride has a runaway bride hiding out in a small town where her attraction to the local sheriff is rising just as fast as the flooding river.

So sit back and enjoy our lovely new look and the always-quality novels we have to offer you this—and every—month at Harlequin American Romance.

Best Wishes,

Melissa Jeglinski

Associate Senior Editor

Harlequin American Romance

That Summer in Maine

Muriel Jensen

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

To the Dinner Dames: Bobbi, Sunny, Dorothy and Susan

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Muriel Jensen and her husband, Ron, live in Astoria, Oregon, in an old foursquare Victorian at the mouth of the Columbia River. They share their home with a golden retriever/golden Labrador mix named Amber, and five cats who moved in with them without an invitation. (Muriel insists that a plate of Friskies and a bowl of water are not an invitation!)

They also have three children and their families in their lives—a veritable crowd of the most interesting people and children. In addition, they have irreplaceable friends, wonderful neighbors and “a life they know they don’t deserve, but love desperately anyway.”

Books by Muriel Jensen

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

73—WINTER’S BOUNTY

119—LOVERS NEVER LOSE

176—THE MALLORY TOUCH

200—FANTASIES AND MEMORIES

219—LOVE AND LAVENDER

244—THE DUCK SHACK AGREEMENT

267—STRINGS

283—SIDE BY SIDE

321—A CAROL CHRISTMAS

339—EVERYTHING

392—THE MIRACLE

414—RACING WITH THE MOON

425—VALENTINE HEARTS AND FLOWERS

464—MIDDLE OF THE RAINBOW

478—ONE AND ONE MAKES THREE

507—THE UNEXPECTED GROOM

522—NIGHT PRINCE

534—MAKE-BELIEVE MOM

549—THE WEDDING GAMBLE

569—THE COURTSHIP OF DUSTY’S DADDY

603—MOMMY ON BOARD * (#litres_trial_promo)

606—MAKE WAY FOR MOMMY* (#litres_trial_promo)

610—MERRY CHRISTMAS, MOMMY!* (#litres_trial_promo)

654—THE COMEBACK MOM

669—THE PRINCE, THE LADY & THE TOWER

688—KIDS & CO.* (#litres_trial_promo)

705—CHRISTMAS IN THE COUNTRY

737—DADDY BY DEFAULT ** (#litres_trial_promo)

742—DADDY BY DESIGN** (#litres_trial_promo)

746—DADDY BY DESTINY** (#litres_trial_promo)

756—GIFT-WRAPPED DAD

798—COUNTDOWN TO BABY

813—FOUR REASONS FOR FATHERHOOD

850—FATHER FEVER** (#litres_trial_promo)

858—FATHER FORMULA** (#litres_trial_promo)

866—FATHER FOUND** (#litres_trial_promo)

882—DADDY TO BE DETERMINED** (#litres_trial_promo)

953—JACKPOT BABY

965—THAT SUMMER IN MAINE

Contents

Prologue (#u99c6d798-5373-52d4-810d-ba1bcb4bfa50)

Chapter One (#ud6efeedb-1b1d-5ea6-97c8-6a087362ec3c)

Chapter Two (#u94636442-936a-5835-8df2-b1cd9f751446)

Chapter Three (#uffbb03ef-19a8-5a56-9abd-56eabfbb7c14)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue

June 23, 9:53 p.m.

Somewhere in the Pyrenees Mountains

Kidnapped!

Maggie Lawton offered sincere apologies to Robert Louis Stevenson as she assessed her situation. She watched with a weird sort of disassociation as the leader of the Basque separatists who’d ambushed her party of six on a hiking trail in the Parc National des Pyrenees spoke to his small army of men gathered around the campfire. They all wore the red boina or beret that was a political statement and a badge of pride for the movement.

To distract herself from the nighttime chill, she remembered that she’d played a kidnapped Arabian princess years ago in her one and only foray into musicals. It had run just fourteen months, and she’d been glad when it was over. Her costume had been skimpy and the theater cold.

She tried to remember the lyrics of the number she sang when captured by Bedouins and held for ransom. It had been jaunty and heroic and she’d sung it loudly and with broad gestures, hoping her enthusiasm would disguise the fact that she had a poor voice.

“Why, for God’s sake, are you humming?” Baldrich Livingston, her costar in several long runs at London’s Old Vic, and the grumpiest man in Europe, glowered at her in the light of the campfire. “There’s no audience beyond the lights, dear heart, and no intermission in fifteen minutes! This is real! Our pal le compte has gotten us into it this time!”

Gerard Armand, Compte de Bastogne, leaned around Glen and Priscilla Thicke to defend himself. Maggie and her companions sat side by side on the cold ground, their wrists tied behind their backs. “Oh, certainement! Blame me! Celine and I had plans to go to Monte Carlo for the weekend, but the four of you barge into my villa uninvited!”

Glen, who was Maggie’s agent, a practical man in his early fifties, took exception to that. “It was your birthday, Jerry. We came to surprise you and help you celebrate.”

“You came,” he returned, “because my servants spoil you and you are able to bask in my reflected glory. You theater people have wealth but no style, unless you borrow it from your royal friends!”

Baldy rolled his eyes. “Please don’t say bask.”

“Yes,” Prissie added while adjusting the sleeves of her chic little hiking jacket. “And you know very well you could not have taken your ch?re aimеe to Monte Carlo, Jerry. She may be old enough for your bed, but I’m sure she’s far too young to gamble.” That observation made, Prissie turned her attention to the Basque leader. “Monsieur! Monsieur! May we have water, please? We have been sitting here in the cold for hours! I’d like something sparkling, not still.”

Baldy rolled his eyes again and even Glen said under his breath, “Priss, shut up.”

She bristled indignantly. “Why? If they want to hold us for ransom or to make some political point, that’s fine. I’m sure the publicity won’t hurt. But I don’t intend to die of thirst or starvation while we wait for rescue.”

“Do you know nothing?” Gerard demanded. “These people are not playing! They are terrorists! Murderers! They would kill us in a heartbeat if—”

“Monsieur le Compte!” The leader of their kidnappers, a muscular man of average height and considerable presence, paced in front of them, an Uzi hooked over his shoulder. He was handsome, but there was a zealot’s fever in his eyes.

Maggie felt a chill trickle down her spine as his gaze touched each one of her companions, rested on her a moment, then focused on Gerard. “You malign me,” he said in an amiable tone that was eerie for all its gentleness. “I fight for my people, though my French Basque brothers are more passive and peaceful than our cousins in Spain, whom I prefer to emulate. We are descendants of the original Iberians and have lived here since before the Celts arrived thirty-five hundred years ago, yet every civilization to live here has preferred to pretend we do not exist. They’ve pushed us higher and higher into the mountains. I am not a murderer, monsieur. I’m simply trying to find a place for my people.”