скачать книгу бесплатно
A Marriage-Minded Man / From Friend to Father: A Marriage-Minded Man / From Friend to Father
Karen Templeton
Tracy Wolff
Dare to dream… these sparkling romances will make you laugh, cry and fall in love – again and again!A Marriage-Minded Man Karen Templeton Tess Montoya knew exactly what she wanted – a hot night with bad boy Eli, her old high-school boyfriend. There was no way she was ever going to let Eli back in her heart. But Eli would do anything for Tess, except let her get away again!From Friend to Father Tracy WolffReece and his late wife asked Sarah to be their surrogate. Now part of her family of twin boys and a baby girl belongs to Reece – and he’s not ready to be a single father. Sarah is vivacious, captivating and the kind of parent he only hopes to be. How can he resist her?
Available in June 2010
from Mills & Boon
Special Moments™
The Tycoon’s Perfect Match by Christine Wenger & Their Second-Chance Child by Karen Sandler
A Marriage-Minded Man by Karen Templeton & From Friend to Father by Tracy Wolff
An Imperfect Match by Kimberly Van Meter & Next Comes Love by Helen Brenna
A Bravo’s Honour by Christine Rimmer
Lone Star Daddy by Stella Bagwell
Claiming the Rancher’s Heart by Cindy Kirk
To Save a Family by Anna DeStefano
A MARRIAGE-MINDED MAN
“I should retreat now before I make any more of an idiot of myself – ”
“No, don’t,” Tess said, grabbing Eli’s hand, just to keep him from leaving. Eli grabbed hers back, then tugged her to him, his eyes touching hers for about half a second – barely long enough for a “Wha – ?” to skate through her brain – and lowered his mouth to hers.
She tensed, then thought, What the hell? and kissed him back, no grappling involved, no body parts touching except lips, the merest suggestion of tongue, their linked hands…and Eli’s strong, rough fingers on the nape of her neck. Whee, doggie. She kissed him back and he kissed her back more and basically she turned into one big quivering mass of goo.
Just from his lips touching hers? Holy cow.
When it was over – much too soon – Eli chuckled again, sheepish, and Tess had to grab the railing, she was quivering so badly.
“This isn’t working, is it?” he said and Tess barked out a laugh.
“Our staying out of each other’s way? No. Apparently not…”
FROM FRIEND TO FATHER
Gone was the work-at-home mum he was used to.
In her place was a blonde bombshell – slender but with curves in all the right places. And legs that seemed to go on for miles.
“Is that a new dress?” Reece asked, his voice much hoarser than usual. But he couldn’t do anything about that – the second he’d laid eyes on Sarah, most of the blood had left his head and pooled about three feet south.
Her cheeks heated and she glanced down, her hand playing uncomfortably in the silky skirt. “It is. I found it at the mall last week, when I was picking up shoes for Rose.”
“You look good.”
“Really?” Her smile was tentative.
“Yeah.” Oh, yeah. Good enough to have his libido leaping to life after nearly a year of complete and total dormancy. And his body was now reminding him – in very uncomfortable detail – just how long it had been since he’d held a woman in his arms.
A Marriage-Minded Man
BY
Karen Templeton
From Friend
To Father
BY
Tracy Wolff
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
A Marriage-Minded Man
BY
Karen Templeton
Karen Templeton is the mother of five sons and living proof that romance and dirty nappies are not mutually exclusive. An Easterner transplanted to Albuquerque, New Mexico, she spends far too much time trying to coax her garden to yield roses and produce something resembling a lawn, all the while fantasising about a weekend alone with her husband. Or at least an uninterrupted conversation.
She loves to hear from readers, who may reach her online at www.karentempleton.com.
To Jack,
for always being there
even when I’m sure there were times when you
wondered what on earth you’d gotten into!
Chapter One
Crackly leaves darted out of the old pickup’s way as Eli Garrett effortlessly navigated the mountain road, one hand resting lightly on the steering wheel, the other thrumming the dashboard in time to Willie Nelson. Behind him, like backup, ladders and tools and whatnot rattled and rumbled in the truck’s bed.
Good times, Eli thought as he approached the final, dusk-cloaked curve to his house. He had a check from a thrilled client in his pocket, 007 waiting in his mailbox, and Evangelista Ortega’s chicken enchiladas tucked up all nice and cozy in the aluminum tray on the seat beside him. So the late fall evening stretched before him, gloriously free, nothin’ to do except hang with Mr. Bond and chow down on the best enchiladas this side of Santa Fe. Maybe in all of New Mexico, he mused, cresting the hill—
“What the hell—!”
He swerved to avoid the small, ghostlike figure who’d popped up out of nowhere, jogging on the wrong damn side of the road. The figure shrieked, then toppled over into a thicket of brush and chamisa, cussing in a mixture of Spanish and English loud enough to blow poor Willie right off the map.
All the junk in the truck bed crashed mightily as Eli jerked up short on the shoulder ahead and jumped out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you!” he yelled, striding toward the figure, already getting to her feet. “You okay?” In the glow from his taillights, she spun around, glaring, and what was left of Eli’s good mood evaporated like smoke in a high wind.
He froze, unsure of his next move. Recognizing him, Teresa Morales—wrong, Montoya—stiffened, too, a moment before a dry, caustic laugh sprang from her mouth. Eli relaxed. Some.
“Holy hell, Tess—you trying to give me a heart attack?”
Swiping dirt, dead leaves and chamisa gunk off her butt, Tess shot him The Look of Death. “Yeah, well,” she said, “you didn’t exactly do my cardiovascular system any favors, either. Crap.” Shoving a headband off her short, wavy hair, she plunked back down in the dirt, inspecting an ugly-ass dark slash on her shin. “Am I bleeding? I can’t see a damn thing in this light.”
“If I look, you promise not to go after me with a blunt object?”
Her eyes flashed to his, then back to the cut. “It’s your lucky day—I’m unarmed.”
“You sure? That headband looks kinda dangerous—”
“Geez, Eli—just look at my leg, okay?”
Eli squatted beside her, trying not to react to her scent, the same one that used to make his eyes cross as a horny seventeen-year-old. That threatened to short out his brain now. Especially when he yanked up her leg to get a better look and came into contact with all that cool, smooth skin—
“Ow!”
“Sorry,” he mumbled. Rubbing the underside of her calf, a little. Noticing she’d recently shaved. Or waxed. Or something. Stubble, the curse of the dark-haired, she’d said. “Yeah, you’re bleeding all right. Must’ve been a branch or something stickin’ out, scratched you up pretty good. What in tarnation were you doing runnin’ this time of night? And why on earth were you way out here?”
“It was still daylight when I started,” she muttered, digging a tissue out of her body-hugging, light-colored jacket. “And I didn’t mean to run this far—or even run at all, I’d just gone for a walk—but it sorta got away from me.” He noticed her hand trembling as she dabbed at the blood, like most of the fight had gone out of her.
Like a woman still stinging from her recent divorce, maybe?
Eli sighed. “Hold on, I’ve got paper towels and water in the truck.”
Amazingly, she was still there when he returned, her forehead propped on her arms, folded across her knees. Knowing Tess, he’d half expected to see her hobbling down the road, muttering, “Don’t need no stinkin’ help from no stinkin’, stupid ex-boyfriends.” He handed her a soaked towel. “Here.”
She jerked her head up like she’d forgotten about him, then took the damp towel and pressed it to the wound, clearly holding back a wince. A single tear dribbled down her cheek, looking like blood itself in the red glow. She shouldered it away.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she snapped, then released a breath, her mouth set. “Really,” she said, more softly, and it was everything he could do not to call her on the obvious lie.
Eli sat back on his haunches, trying to reconcile what he saw in front of him with both the carefree sixteen-year-old girl his hormone-crazed younger self had been crazy in love with and the sharp, confident businesswoman she’d become over the past few years. Or so he’d heard, since they’d barely exchanged ten words since Eli’s Big Screwup.
Even so, in a town like Tierra Rosa you could go for years without talking to somebody and still know every detail of their lives. Either you’d overhear something, or some kind soul would fill you in, or you’d notice things with your own two eyes. Things you kept to yourself, no matter how much they might be killing you inside.
“Where’s the kids?” he asked, exchanging the bloodied towel for a clean one.
“In Albuquerque. With their father,” Tess said through a grimace. She glanced at him, just long enough for him to catch the anger-tinged shadows in her eyes, then back at her leg, pressing the towel to the wound. “Yesterday would have been our ninth anniversary.”
“Sorry.”
She shrugged. Lifted the towel. “You think it’s stopped?”
“Can’t really tell in the dark. Can you walk?”
“Of course I can walk,” she said, rising and putting her weight on her foot. Doing the stoic thing.
“Come on, I’ll take you back to my place and get you patched up.”
Clearly gritting her teeth, Tess took another step. Swore under her breath. “How about you take me home instead?”
“Because something tells me you shouldn’t be alone right now.”
Even in the dark, he felt the full force of her glare. Caught the pain behind it, too. And not just because of her leg. “And I don’t recall asking for your input. If you don’t want to give me a lift, I’ll get back on my own steam.”
“Before next Sunday?”
The glare intensified. Eli almost laughed. “Tell you what—how about we go back to my place and get the dirt cleaned out of that scratch, then I’ll take you home?” When she still hesitated, he said, “Might even rustle up a slug of whiskey from somewhere.”
“Why? In case you need to amputate?”
“Never hurts to be prepared.”
Muttering something about “damn Boy Scouts,” Tess started for the truck. Eli tried to put his arm around her waist, got his hand smacked for the trouble. Of course, she then limped the ten feet to the passenger-side door, leaning against the extended cab for dear life while Eli shifted the enchiladas so she’d have some place to sit. Once settled in her seat, however, she emitted a sound that was half sigh, half moan.
“Those Eva’s enchiladas?” she asked.
“They are.” Huh. “When’s the last time you ate?”
Tess erased the frown before—she thought—Eli noticed it. “A while ago.”
Thinking, Women, sheesh, Eli slammed shut her door and walked around the truck’s hood. Got in. “I got no problem sharing.”
“That’s okay, I’m fine.”
Shaking his head, he pulled back out onto the road. “Your stomach might take issue with you on that.”
Tess crossed her arms over her loudly rumbling middle. “There’s food at home.”
Eli decided to quit while he still had all his crucial body parts.
It didn’t take but a couple of minutes to get to his place, a nondescript pseudo-adobe number he’d bought some time ago, close to a much larger building that housed the family woodworking and cabinetry business, which in turn was maybe fifty yards away from his parents’ house. Award-worthy? God, no. Affordable and convenient? You bet.
Tess slid out of the truck on her own steam—big surprise, there—taking a second to either get her bearings or scrutinize the house. Maybe both.
“Hard to get the full effect in the dark,” he said, carting the enchiladas past her, figuring she’d hobble behind when she was ready.
“I’m sure,” she muttered. Hobbling along behind.
Eventually she made it inside the house. “Huh,” she said, although to the open space—the result of his knocking out a bunch of non-load-bearing walls after he’d first bought the place—or the lack of Clueless Bachelor clutter, he couldn’t say.
“Yeah, good thing the maid came today,” he said, carting the enchiladas to the kitchen.
