Teresa Southwick

From Maverick to Daddy


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       When Lily slipped her hand into Mallory’s, she felt that pesky lump in her throat again.

      Emotion expanded in her chest and squeezed her heart. This little girl meant the world to her and she would do anything in her power to make Lily happy.

      Hand in hand they walked through the store, sticking to the main aisle. Almost at the exit leading to the mall, there was a display of girls’ fancy dresses. Lily stopped dead in her tracks to look at an off-white, full-skirted, sleeveless lace-over-satin dress.

      “I love this,” she said.

      “It’s very beautiful,” Mallory agreed. “But you don’t have anywhere to wear something like that.”

      “A flower girl could wear it.” Serious dark eyes looked up at her. “For a wedding.”

      Mallory’s heart squeezed again, this time with an emotion more complicated than love. How did you protect the child you cared about so much from something that wasn’t within your power to make happen? Even if you wanted it.

      * * *

      Montana Mavericks: 20 Years in the Saddle!

      From Maverick

      to Daddy

      Teresa Southwick

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      TERESA SOUTHWICK lives with her husband in Las Vegas, the city that reinvents itself every day. An avid fan of romance novels, she is delighted to be living out her dream of writing for Mills & Boon.

      To Christine Rimmer, fabulous plotting partner, writer and friend.

      It’s always a pleasure to work with you, and your generous help on this book is very much appreciated.

      Contents

       Cover

       Introduction

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Epilogue

       Extract

       Copyright

       Chapter One

      The little Asian girl sitting at the desk where his father’s receptionist normally sat was one heck of a surprise to Caleb Dalton. It was something you didn’t see every day, at least not in the law offices of Ben Dalton. Cute as could be, she looked about seven or eight, going on twenty-five. A dainty, beautiful little doll.

      “Hi, there,” he said, politely removing his hat.

      “Are you a real cowboy?” Her black eyes glittered with excitement.

      “Yes, ma’am, I am.”

      “Cool.” Her delicately shaped mouth curved into a smile for just a moment, then she was all business. “I’m sorry to tell you, but the office is closed. Can you come back tomorrow?”

      “I’m pretty sure Mr. Dalton will see me anyway.” The man was his father and that should get him a pass.

      “Do you have an appointment?”

      “Sort of.” Picking his dad up to take him out for a beer should qualify.

      “Mr. Dalton is doing something very important right now and can’t be disturbed. You’ll have to wait. Please take a seat.” Little Miss Efficient went back to reading her book.

      Caleb wasn’t sure whether to laugh or do as he was told but finally opted for the latter, since he was in no particular hurry. And how often did a kid get to boss around grown-ups? Might be good for her self-esteem. Although from what he could tell, she was definitely not low on confidence.

      Spinning his hat in his hands, he walked over to a chair against the wall and sat as ordered. The high oak reception desk where the little girl wielded power like a Supreme Court Justice separated the client waiting area from the wide doorway beyond, which was his father’s office. His paralegal worked back there, too.

      Here the floor was dark wood and the beige walls were decorated with watercolor paintings of mountains, cowboys on horseback and the local waterfall for which Rust Creek Falls, Montana, was named. He’d been there less than a minute when he heard the click of high heels hurrying closer, and a young woman emerged from the back office.

      “I heard the bell over the door. Is someone here...?” The woman stopped short and looked at him.

      The little girl glanced up from her book. “I told him Mr. Dalton was busy.”

      “With important business, I was told.” Caleb stood and walked closer, as if drawn by some invisible force.

      This woman wasn’t classically beautiful, but there was something about her that intrigued him, attracted him. Maybe it was the long-sleeved white silky blouse tucked into a straight, formfitting black skirt. She wasn’t very big, but the high heels made her legs look long and sleek.

      “I’m so sorry. Please tell me she wasn’t rude.”

      Spoken