Barbara Boswell

Who's The Boss?


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      Cade Clenched His Jaw As Kylie Approached Him. She Was Twenty-Seven Years Old And She Was His Boss! Letter to Reader Title Page About the Author Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Copyright

      Cade Clenched His Jaw As Kylie Approached Him. She Was Twenty-Seven Years Old And She Was His Boss!

      The situation was ridiculous, but true. And his boss was a knockout. Kylie Brennan was blessed with natural beauty. She appeared both sultry and sweet; wholesome yet enticingly sexy. All in all, a fascinating contrast that evoked an immediate and tangible response from Cade.

      

      He was appalled at his reaction! The last thing he needed was to be turned on by this woman, who could single-handedly wreck his future. Yet here he stood, conjuring up what was definitely a sexual fantasy.

      

      And during office hours, yet!

      Dear Reader,

      

      There’s something for everyone this month! Brides, babies and cowboys...but also humor, sensuality...and delicious love stories (some without a baby in sight!).

      

      There’s nothing as wonderful as a new book from Barbara Boswell, and this month we have a MAN OF THE MONTH written by this talented author. Who’s the Boss? is a very sexy, delightfully funny love story. As always, Barbara not only creates a masterful hero and smart-as-a-whip heroine, she also makes her secondary characters come alive!

      

      When a pregnant woman gets stuck in a traffic jam she does the only thing she can do—talks a handsome hunk into giving her a ride to the hospital on his motorcycle in Leanne Banks’s latest, The Troublemaker Bride.

      

      Have you ever wanted to marry a millionaire? Well, heroine Irish Ellison plans on finding a man with money in One Ticket to Texas by Jan Hudson. A single mom-to-be gets a now life in Paula Detmer Riggs’s emotional and heartwarming Daddy by accident. And a woman with a “bad reputation” finds unexpected romance in Barbara McMahon’s Boss Lady and the Hired Hand.

      

      Going to your high-school reunion is bad enough. But what if you were voted “Most likely to succeed”...but your success at love has been fleeting? Well, that’s just what happens in Susan Connell’s How To Succeed at Love. So read...and enjoy!

      Lucia Macro

      Senior Editor

      Please address questions and book requests to:

      Silhouette Reader Service U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269 Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

      Who’s The Boss?

      

      Barbara Boswell

      

www.millsandboon.co.uk

      BARBARA BOSWELL loves writing about families. “I guess family has been a big influence on my writing,” she says. “I particularly enjoy writing about how my characters’ family relationships affect them”

      When Barbara isn’t writing and reading, she’s spending time with her own family—her husband, three daughters and three cats, whom she concedes are the true bosses of their home! She has lived in Europe, but now makes her home in Pennsylvania. She collects miniatures and holiday ornaments, tries to avoid exercise and has somehow found the time to write over twenty category romances.

      One

      Though he knew they were first cousins and shared the Brennan gene pool, Cade Austin had never seen such a dissimilar pair. From his vantage point at the end of the corridor, he watched Kylie Brennan and her younger cousin Bndget walking toward him. Conversation between the cousins appeared minimal and a bit strained.

      He saw Kylie slant a covert glance at Bridget, and a slight smile tilted the corners of Cade’s mouth. He was willing to bet his fifteen percent stock ownership in BrenCo that Kylie had never worn a tight, tiny, belly-button-exposing, black ribbed T-shirt, like the one Bridget was wearing now. Bridget had matched it with a brillant lime-colored faux leather skirt that scarcely covered her behind, black stockings and little girl style shoes with thick black straps and jarring lug soles. Bridget was one of BrenCo’s receptionists, but rarely dressed like one. Cade had seen movie hookers whose outfits were more conservative than some of Bridget’s.

      Kylie’s light gray suit, white silk blouse and traditional pumps looked professional and classy. She dressed like the attorney Cade knew she was.

      However, as president, Cade enforced no company dress code, though he was somewhat relieved that the rest of the staff chose more traditional attire for the workplace. Employees could wear whatever they liked at BrenCo as long as they showed up on time and got the job done. Which Bridget did. She was both reliable and competent. The old “never judge a book by its cover” adage definitely applied to Bridget Brennan.

      Cade reminded himself not to make that mistake with her cousin Kylie, either. She may or may not be what she seemed; he needed time for a thorough assessment.

      His eyes focused more intently on her. The last time he’d seen Kylie Brennan had also been the first time, exactly fourteen months ago at her uncle Gene’s funeral, right here in Port McClain, Ohio. She had flown in shortly before the service and been unable to stay for the post-funeral festivities. Her parents explained she was in the middle of a trial and had only that day off before court resumed.

      The other Brennans hadn’t been pleased by Kylie’s abrupt arrival and departure. “She inherits controlling interest in the company from Gene and she can’t even stick around long enough to eat some corned beef and cabbage at his wake?” complained Lauretta Brennan.

      “Kylie must have been Uncle Gene’s favorite, and I don’t understand why.” Ian Brennan sulked. “She didn’t grow up in Port McClain, and she saw the old man only once a year at most.”

      “Ever hear the one about familiarity and contempt? Mystery solved, Ian,” replied his cousin Bridget.

      Ian had shot her a killing glance, the one he reserved for most of his relatives.

      Cade smiled at the memory. Twenty-two-year-old Bridget often said what he was thinking himself but was too polite to share. At least some of the time he was too polite. Other times he, too, just said what he thought, a trait that hadn’t endeared him to most Brennans.

      He