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Praise for Connie Cox:
‘Return of the Rebel Surgeon is an emotionally packed
reunion story … I would definitely recommend reading [it].’ —Harlequin Junkie on RETURN OF THE REBEL SURGEON
Deseré nodded, acknowledging without replying except in the hope and gratitude her eyes reflected, making him feel like some kind of superhero.
He held the door open for her, giving it a good jerk behind him to make sure it had locked when it closed. She was a couple of paces in front of him, and as Jordan followed Deseré out to his truck he tried to look anywhere but at her sassy bottom.
But he failed.
Don’t think about her. Don’t think about that kiss. Don’t think about wanting to do it again. Don’t think.
Yeah, but not thinking would not be a good thing. That would mean he’d let his body take over, and frankly that would be a mistake.
Because he wanted her. And she wanted him. But there were too many reasons why that would be a bad thing—starting with the fact Deseré worked for him, ending with the fact he was not in the right place in his head for a relationship, and with a multitude of other reasons in between.
Not thinking, he reached for her elbow to help her in. A thrill went through him so strongly it made him shake in his boots.
Dear Reader,
Best wishes for a great Christmas holiday season!
Do you ever wish for your very own cowboy? Nurse Practitioner Deseré Novak left New Orleans for East Texas wishing for a job, not the jingle of spurs. Dr Jordan Hart, in his jeans and boots and hat, could give her both if she was only brave enough to open her healing heart as well as her healing hands.
But she has her hands full, carrying the in vitro child within her to full term and avoiding the man who would take that child from her, without adding the further complication of a strong, silent cowboy into her life. Especially a cowboy who refuses to open up to her about the guilt he has carried for too many years—the guilt that keeps him from living and loving to the fullest.
Jordan wants what is best for his patients. That’s why he hires Deseré Novak—so she can give the people of Piney Woods what he can’t: compassion and care. While he can competently treat their physical illnesses, he avoids the emotional aspect of their cases. How can he help them when he can’t even help himself?
But Dr Jordan Hart can’t avoid the joy Deseré adds into his days, or the dreams she adds to his nights.
And when he starts to care for her, to love her, he can’t avoid wanting to be a better man, a whole and healed man—both for her and for her unborn child.
All the characters in this novel are fictional, and are not reflective of anyone living or dead.
Connie
CONNIE COX has loved Harlequin Mills & Boon® romances since she was a young teen. To be a Harlequin Mills & Boon® author now is a fantasy come to life. By training, Connie is an electrical engineer. Through her first job, working on nuclear scanners and other medical equipment, she had a unique perspective on the medical world. She is fascinated by the inner strength of medical professionals, who must balance emotional compassion with stoic logic, and is honoured to showcase the passion of these dedicated professionals through her own passion of writing. Married to the boy-next-door, Connie is the proud mother of one terrific daughter and son-in-law and one precocious dachshund.
Connie would love to hear from you. Visit her website at www.ConnieCox.com
Christmas Eve Delivery
Connie Cox
www.millsandboon.co.uk
This one’s for you, Deseré Steenberg!
Here’s to strong men and the brave women who love them!
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
DESERÉ WEDGED HER car into a parking place between a dual-axel diesel truck and a huge silver horse trailer as red dust swirled around her. East Texas dust.
So different from New Orleans pavement.
She put her hand over her stomach. New town. New life. “Here’s to us, baby James. To our future.” She hefted the bottle of milk she’d purchased at her last gas and restroom stop, toasted her sister’s unborn baby and chugged.
Reinforced by lukewarm milk, she gathered her purse along with her courage and opened the door.
The sultriness of the heavy, humid air hit her hard. One step behind was the scent of pine trees and the odor of horse manure.
The pine trees had towered over her as she’d travelled down the unpaved road leading to the rodeo arena. In the dusk, those tall skinny evergreens appeared imposing, like sentinels warning her that she wasn’t in the big city anymore.
For the baby’s sake, she wouldn’t let this alien landscape intimidate her.
“Everything will be just fine.” She said it out loud to force conviction.
A gaunt, stooped cowboy with a weathered straw hat shadowing his leathered face stopped on the way to his truck.
She knew he drove a truck even though she didn’t know which one. She knew it had to be a truck because she had the only car in the parking lot.
He