“If I’m The Mother Of The Girls, I Don’t Remember A Husband.” Letter to Reader Title Page About the Author Dedication Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Copyright
“If I’m The Mother Of The Girls, I Don’t Remember A Husband.”
Micah groaned. A flare of attraction passed between them, and he didn’t want any complications with a married woman. So out here in the wild, he would assume he had Raffaela Granillo—married mother of two.
But when he saw tendrils of auburn hair had escaped her braid, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and tucking them behind her ear.
Micah’s warm touch quickly brushed her skin, and she looked at him. His dark eyes studied her, and beneath his gaze, she felt her pulse jump. What was there about him that was so disturbing? He was doing nothing more than looking at her. For a moment she thought he was going to lean down and kiss her. And, heaven help her, she wanted him to.
Upset, she struggled to conjure up memories of a home...of a husband....
Dear Reader,
I know you’ve all been anxiously awaiting the next book from Mary Lynn Baxter—so wait no more. Here it is, the MAN OF THE MONTH, Tight-Fittin’ Jeans. Mary Lynn’s books are known for their sexy heroes and sizzling sensuality...and this sure has both! Read and enjoy.
Every little girl dreams of marrying a handsome prince, but most women get to kiss a lot of toads before they find him. Read how three handsome princes find their very own princesses in Leanne Banks’s delightful new miniseries HOW TO CATCH A PRINCESS. The fun begins this month with The Five-Minute Bride.
The other books this month are all so wonderful...you won’t want to miss any of them! If you like humor, don’t miss Maureen Child’s Have Bride, Need Groom. For blazing drama, there’s Sara Orwig’s A Baby for Mommy. Susan Crosby’s Wedding Fever provides a touch of dashing suspense. And Judith McWilliams’s Practice Husband is warmly emotional.
There is something for everyone here at Desire! I hope you enjoy each and every one of these love stories.
Senior Editor
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service US.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269 Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Eric, Ont. L2A 5X3
A Baby For Mommy
Sara Orwig
SARA ORWIG
lives with her husband and children in Oklahoma. She has a patient husband who will take her on research trips anywhere from big cities to old forts. She is an avid collector of Western history books. With a master’s degree in English, Sara writes historical romance, mainstream fiction and contemporary romance. Books are beloved treasures that take Sara to magical worlds, and she loves both reading and writing them.
To Maureen Walters, with many thanks
Prologue
Rachel Webster kept a smile in place as she fell through one-hundred feet of space. Then the private jet leveled as it flew between blue storm clouds that rose like mountains on either side of the plane, hiding the canopy of trees below.
A tiny hand squeezed Rachel’s, and she looked down at her one-year-old niece.
“Don’t like shake,” Angelica said.
“It’s the big clouds around us that make the plane jiggle. We’ll be past them soon,” Rachel replied cheerfully, while the child gazed at her with wide, solemn eyes. Rachel was determined to do whatever she could to calm her little niece and offset the nervousness of the child’s mother. When they’d hit the turbulence, Angelica had cried and wanted into Rachel’s lap, and Raffaela had insisted that’s where she should be. Rachel had simply buckled Angelica in with her and held her tightly.
“Dammit, I hate storms,” Raffaela snapped.
Rachel glanced across the aisle at her twin sister. Raffaela’s three-year-old, Sophie, was climbing onto her mother’s lap.
“Raffaela, buckle Sophie into her seat,” Rachel said.
“Sit down, Sophie.” Raffaela reached up to smooth her own glossy auburn hair, looped and pinned on top of her head in an intricate twist. The eight-carat diamond on her hand glinted in the light along with a smaller diamond ring on her little finger. The bloodred ruby pendant gleamed malevolently at her throat.
Sophie tugged at the pendant. “I want Aunt Rachel to wear it,” she begged.
Raffaela unfastened the necklace and handed it to the girl. “Now go sit with your aunt,” she said.
Sophie scampered across the aisle. Rachel caught her up and buckled her into the seat next to her. “You need to stay buckled up.”
“Put this on,” the child pleaded as the plane bounced.
“Okay,” Rachel said, wanting to keep Sophie safely buckled. Shifting her straight hair to one side, she took the ruby pendant Sophie held out to her and fastened it around her neck.
Rachel thought of home. Even though she lived at Raffaela’s home in Bolivia a good part of the year now, she still called Houston home, and in three years, when both the girls were in boarding school, she would return to get a doctorate and hopefully a teaching position at the university. Until then, she had agreed to be nanny for her two nieces.
“Dammit, I think we should turn around and go back!” Raffaela cried.
“I’ll talk to Jose.” In the seat in front of Rachel, Burr Brogan unbuckled his seat belt and stood, unfolding his six-foot seven-inch frame carefully as he went forward to talk to the small dark-haired pilot, Jose Escajedo. Raffaela’s Bolivian husband, Hector Granillo, had hired Jose years earlier, and Rachel knew Hector had great confidence in the pilot’s flying ability.
Just