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Love: Undercover ||| Opposites Attract ||| Tangled Up In Love Pillow Talk ||| Dear Love Doctor ||| Dear Love Doctor ||| Not the Marrying Kind
Love:
Undercover Excerpt Everyone in Doolittle, Arkansas knew Jenifer Janey Wright didn’t need a man. She’d raised her twins on her own, having sent their father, her college freshman sweetheart, packing when he suggested her pregnancy fell into the category of an obstacle to their career success that could be “dealt with.” After all, she planned to be a lawyer and he a doctor. A baby at nineteen was worse than a C in organic chemistry. No, Jenifer didn’t need a man. She’d earned her college degree by correspondence course, completing her homework in between teaching Autumn and Adam to read and hurrying to her job at the Doolittle Public Library. She’d worked there summers during high school and the aging Mrs. Million was more than happy to have her help. They didn’t pay much more than minimum wage, but Jenifer happily chose being surrounded by books over waiting tables at the Verandah Restaurant or standing behind the counter at Harolene’s Hobby and Crafts. Her Uncle Pete, not really her Uncle but her parent’s next door neighbor and best friend, held the post of Chief of Police of Doolittle. He’d taught her to handle guns and to shoot the heart out of a target at close, mid, and long-range, and he almost succeeded in recruiting her to become the town’s first female policeman, but Jenifer declined. Her son and daughter needed her, safe and in one piece. Not that anything ever happened in Doolittle. There’d been a flurry of excitement a few years ago when a handsome young veterinarian had moved to town. Jenifer’s friends, particularly her best pal Pamela, had urged her to wangle a date with Dr. Mike Halliday. She declined. Dr. Mike, as everyone soon called him, was in to rescuing people and Jenifer into managing people; she knew they’d never mesh. Butt heads maybe. Besides, she didn’t need a man. By then, she’d earned her Masters in Library Science, organized Mrs. Million’s retirement party, and taken charge of the library. No, she didn’t need a man. Everyone in Doolittle, Arkansas knew Jenifer Janey Wright didn’t need a man. Especially now that her twins had left for college. …Jenifer sighed, and pushed a long strand of hair back from her cheek. She didn’t recommend experiencing empty nest syndrome all alone. Surely she’d settle down, get used to the quiet in the house. Even now, perched behind the checkout counter at the Doolittle Public Library, where she’d spent countless contented hours, she felt the restless stirring within her that had been stealing over her more and more lately. She flipped the pages of the Library Journal, not focusing on one little word. Not that she wanted a man to keep. Jenifer was far too used to running her own life to let anyone interfere. But only last night when Pamela, sharing some of the secrets of her life with her third husband, went off on a tangent about experimenting with Kama Sutra oils and graviton boots and Velcro restraints, Jenifer’s mouth had fallen open. People did stuff like that? No, she wasn’t shocked, she assured her friend. More like pea green-envious. She wished—no, she didn’t. Yes, she did. She wished she could meet a man who’d be willing to explore the naughty and the unknown with her--the sensible, capable, practical Jenifer Janey Wright--and not insist on putting a ring on her finger... …Jenifer wouldn’t accept just any man to use in fulfilling her fantasies. He’d have to be tall, dark and handsome, and that just for starters. He’d possess a worldly air, be rather mysterious, yet able to walk in the rain without fussing about his expensive clothing. He’d have lips that smiled and made her blush just remembering where those lips had kissed her sated body. He’d be— What was wrong with her? The City of Doolittle didn’t pay her to daydream. Jenifer slammed shut the Library Journal and pushed back the high-backed stool. She had books to re-shelve. Only then did she glance up, and realize a man stood in front of the checkout counter, gazing at her with an amused expression on his face. His rather handsome, expressive, chiseled-chin, deep set dark eyes, strong nose, full lips sort of face. A face she’d never seen before. Jenifer swallowed, hard, wondering if it were possible to conjure reality from wishes. Tipping her head to one side, she considered the possibility, and the man. And the rather wicked gleam in his eyes. She felt naked, suddenly, as if he could both read her mind and see through her sensible white blouse. Which of course was impossible and even if he could, all he would catch a glimpse of was her sensible white bra. A bra she would throw away the minute she got home. She’d been sensible enough years of her life.
© 2004 Hailey North Love:
Undercover * June 2004 * Avon
Books * ISBN: 0-06-058230-8 * Order
a Copy!
Opposites
Attract Excerpt Jonquil slid into the seat, her hands on her lap. The skirt of her dress had edged up and Cameron caught sight of the lacy top of her stockings. Nice. Very nice. He tugged his gaze from her thighs to her face to find her watching him, eyes wide, lips slightly parted. Maybe they could skip the dinner thing and spend the next two hours in the limousine. He had everything he wanted right here. "Nice car," she said. "But I don't see Mister Benjamin." He groaned. So much for a night of unrestrained passion. Him and his moment of compassion. "Are you okay?" He leaned back and draped his arm across the back of the seat, close but not touching her. He knew better than to scare her off. "I'm on my way to dinner at Commander's Palace with the most beautiful woman in New Orleans. What's not to be okay?" He could have sworn she blushed. He stroked a tendril of her hair. "Don't underestimate yourself, Jonquil," he said. She sighed. "That's the first time I've called you by your name," he said. "I like the way you say my name," she said. "Everyone calls me Jonni. Not even my parents ever called me Jonquil." "But they named you." Her hair felt better against his fingers than whiskey on his tongue. "They named a pair of twins born in the spring after two seasonal flowers," she said, sounding practical, though he thought her voice was a little breathy. He wondered what she'd do if he kissed her. Now. She tipped her face up towards his. Darn if she wasn't thinking about him kissing her, too, Cameron thought. Her lips were parted now, and there was no mistaking the soft welcome of that lush mouth. He lifted his little finger and traced the curve of her chin towards her ear. Her body softened and shifted on the seat, a sure signal she was offering herself to him. One kiss. He looked into her brilliant blue eyes, and saw more than he deserved to see. Welcome, yes, but doubt. Something in his gut twisted. He had no right to play his usual games with this woman. "You're too good for me," he said, not even realizing he said the words out loud. Jonni couldn't believe her ears. Cameron Scott was about to kiss her. She didn't know much about men, but she didn't think this was standard procedure for Cameron. She also didn't think talking would achieve much. She sighed softly and dropped her head back on his arm. Her hair draped over his sleeve and he lowered his head towards her mouth. She'd been prepared to distrust him, figured she should still feel that way, but darn it, when he wasn't trying to be a hotshot, he was such a nice person. And tonight was one evening out of time. "Cameron," she whispered, the sound of his name an invitation as she lifted one hand to his cheek and let her hand discover the texture of his skin, the plane of his jaw. He made a sound deep in his throat, and she smiled. His mouth found the smile and swallowed it, making it his. Jonni gasped and gave herself up to the sensation of his lips hot and hungry on hers. She moved her hand from his cheek to the back of his neck, circling the warm flesh there with circles that danced faster as his tongue found hers and teased it with a promise of so much more. He broke away first, his breathing fast and shallow. Jonni leaned against the seat, shaken. She'd only wanted to know what it would feel like, kissing this man who made her afraid and brave all at the same time. Now she wanted to do it again. And again. "Couldn't help myself," he said, a bit of a grin on his face. "I promise to behave." Jonni almost pulled a pout worthy of her five-year-old. "You do?" He laughed and pulled her close. She leaned into his solid strength. "Yes, I do, because as you well know, I'm a notorious flirt and you are a lady who deserves to be treated as such." "Of course," she said, starch in her voice, and then took his face in her hands. Her kiss was wicked and naughty, a choreographed dance of all the kisses she'd always dreamed of experiencing but never had. She nibbled on his lip, parted his mouth, and drew his tongue deep inside, opening her throat as if she'd swallow him whole. Part of her brain sounded a warning; the rest of her body squelched such scaredy-cat thoughts. For once in her life, Jonni wanted to be the wildly desirable siren she'd never let herself be. Cameron had his arms around her, one strong hand pulling her fanny onto his lap, burying her thighs against the front of his body, against the heat and need of his erection that burned through their clothing. Jonni lowered one hand to his lap and felt him strain against her hand. Lifting her mouth from his, she said, "Now this is what I call being good." He groaned again, and said, " I knew you'd be this hot, beneath that proper surface." Jonni looked down at her dress that now revealed the tops of her stockings, at her breasts pushing against the low neckline, her nipples threatening to burst with the need to break free from the silky fabric of her bra, and her hand on Cameron's crotch. Slowly, her senses started to function. Not the out-of-control erotic ones, but the common ones. "I don't look very proper right now, do I?" "Oh, yeah," Cameron said, "you look exactly proper." And then he kissed her again. Which is when the driver opened the door. And the flash of the photographer's bulbs popped, one after the other, after the other. Jonni lifted her head and looked up. "Don't do that," Cameron said, reaching up and covering her face with his arm, then grabbing the door and slamming it shut and hitting the lock button. He pushed the intercom button and swore at the driver to get the car moving. "F---ing idiots," he said. "Are you okay?" "I think so," she said. She'd scooted over on the seat, tugged her dress down to a proper length, and was busy restoring some order to her hair. "It's just as well that happened," she said, "I think I was forgetting myself there." She tried to laugh, as if making a joke of it all. "There's nothing wrong with that, in the right place at the right time," Cameron said. "Especially when you're with the right person."
© 2003 Hailey North Opposites Attract * June 2003 * Avon Books * ISBN: 038-081308-4 * Order a Copy!
Tangled
Up in Love
…A man appeared in the doorway, framed by the lights. Stacey stroked her beardie's head then got out of her car. He
wore jeans and a T-shirt that wasn't quite tucked in. And cowboy boots.
His hair could use a good trimming, or maybe it was just rumpled from
his pillow. That flash of a thought warmed Stacey. He
didn't look like any of the vets she'd visited. Stacey hesitated, even
as he reached her side. "Dr. Halliday," he said, his voice in person even deeper than over the phone. "Where's the patient?" …
She
watched, partially irritated, but mainly impressed, as Dr. Halliday
lowered his body gracefully until his head was level with that of her
dog's. "Hi, girl," he murmured. "I heard you weren't
feeling so good. Let's take a look at you and see if we can't get you
patched up." "Wuf!"
For the first time since Stacey had been an hour out of New Orleans,
True lifted her head and looked around. Then she let the veterinarian
pick her up, all sixty-four pounds of her and march towards the entrance
of the animal hospital. "Get
the door, will you?" was all he said. Stacey slammed her car door shut, and hurried past the vet towards the door of the clinic. Even if the man was abrupt-bordering on downright rude-he did have a way with True. And that, Stacey reminded herself, was all that mattered. Still,
she noticed how the fabric of his jeans outlined the well-honed lines
of his thighs and hips. And he'd hoisted True as if she weighed no more
than a cream puff. Strength, Stacey thought. And- Whatever
other attributes she might have listed in his favor fizzled as he commanded,
"Wait here." And then he disappeared through a swinging door. "Oh
no you don't," Stacey said, following the pair of them before the
door had completed one full swing back and forth. "That's my baby
and where she goes, I go." Arms
full of dog, the man shrugged. He
deposited True on an examination table in a small room whose walls
were
covered with pictures of dogs. Greyhounds, Labradors, poodles, you
name it, their photos plastered the walls. Yet what held Stacey's
attention
was the way Dr. Halliday's T-shirt had come untucked from his jeans
the rest of the way. He looked rumpled and sleepy
and appealing in an oddly charming way… "I
don't know what she could have gotten into. I feed her the best food,
give her chew toys only when she's supervised." Pausing, Stacey
reflected on the past several days. She actually hadn't been home much.
But in the past year she'd spent so little time away from work. "My
neighbor's daughter takes her for her daily walks." "You
don't?" He seemed mildly disapproving. Stacey
paused in front of a poster illuminating the life cycle of a heartworm.
"I have a very busy schedule." The
man's gaze sharpened. Stacey felt him cataloguing her business suit,
her pumps, her sensible blouse, her simple hair-do. For a moment, she
found herself wishing she wore something softer, something sexy. But
then, that just wasn't her style. "I
see," he said, turning his attention back to the dog. "She's
quite dependable. And reliable." "She
seems like a good natured animal." "I
was referring to my dog walker," Stacey said. He
stretched his arms over his head and yawned mightily. The movement caused
that darn shirt of his to expose an enticing view of a flat stomach
and a tapering trail of dark hair. A shiver of curiosity to see more
stole over Stacey. This man was a complete stranger to her, but perhaps
that very fact freed her to feel desire-an emotion she'd denied herself
ever since Robert had wrecked her carefully laid plans for life and
love. She
reached out one hand and stroked True behind the right ear-her favorite
spot. And all the while she was wondering what he looked like beneath
the rest of his clothing. He
must have caught her staring. Flashing a look that she read as annoyance,
he tugged at the short tail of his shirt and stuffed it into his jeans.
Then a smile, the first real one she'd seen from him, warmed his face
and lit his eyes. "My daughter Jessica wanted to help with the
laundry this week. I'm afraid none of my shirts fit anymore." Pride.
Stacey heard it clear and strong in his voice… "She'll
be one next month." Didn't a child imply a mother? "Do
you think she has an infection?" And didn't that imply this gorgeous
though rather enigmatic man was married? The
vet looked at her, rather oddly, she thought, but simply turned and
opened a neatly labeled cabinet, retrieved a plastic cup with a lid,
and quickly retrieved a sample via gentle pressure on True's bladder. "Useful
technique," Stacey said. Oh, well, she'd only been indulging her
fantasies. "Yes,
but it's only one test. I'm also looking for other things." He
shifted True onto her side and being the friendly dog that she was,
True offered her belly for a rub. The doctor seemed to study her for
a long moment and stroked her gently. Just watching the way his hands
drifted across True's furry tummy started a quiver of sensation deep
within Stacey. "I'm
on a driving trip," she said, still studying the calendar. Better
that than the curve of his hips and butt. She had a thing for men's
butts. Tight and firm and lean beneath the worn jeans. She'd dated Robert
for six years…but now that she considered the issue honestly, a
year after he'd left her for a twenty year old equestrian, Stacey realized
she'd never liked Robert's derriere. "Driving
anywhere in particular?" He'd turned around and now leaned against
the counter, arms crossed over his chest. "Why
do you ask?" She suddenly felt quite reluctant to explain she was
on her way to a spa in Hot Springs-all by herself, with only her dog
for companionship. Her business partner had known she wouldn't go without
True and had even made arrangements for a dogsitting kennel. No, Stacy
didn't want to explain that this vacation had been forced on her as
a cure for her workaholic tendencies. Okay, maybe tendencies wasn't
a strong enough word. …
"You may want to board your dog if you plan to spend a lot of time
in your car." "She
looks fine now," Stacey said. "What do you think was wrong
with her?" "Nothing
a little time won't cure. If you'd mentioned she was gestating, I would
have known immediately what was happening." "Gestating?"
Stacey stared at the man. "You're saying True is pregnant?" He
nodded. "One good look at her mammary glands gave me the answer.
Then he seemed to realize her surprise. "You didn't know?" "She
can't be. I haven't mated her yet. She's a bearded collie from the top
stable in the country. She has papers. I have commitments to the owners
of her sire for her first pups!" Dr.
Halliday certainly was. As a matter of fact, he was laughing. Michael
Halliday stifled his rather unprofessional outburst and regarded the
woman who'd roused him from the first good night of sleep he'd had in
the two weeks since his daughter Kristen had broken her right arm during
soccer practice. The
woman glared at him, her nose in the air, her posture as stiff as a
general conducting troop inspection. And a pretty nose it was. Too bad
the full lips beneath it weren't curving upwards. He was willing to
bet the woman had a pretty smile. When
her schedule allowed her to produce it. He frowned. No matter how deprived
he might be of feminine companionship there was no point in inviting
attention from a woman too busy to walk her own dog. Or
too important. Oh, yeah, she had the executive look down to a T…Another
bossy lawyer perhaps, too busy to walk her own dog, much the way his
ex-wife had been far too occupied to be bothered with their daughters-or
their marriage. Michael
no longer felt like laughing. The
woman was speaking. He forced his attention back to the job at hand.
The dog was his patient. He had a responsibility to the animal, which
meant it was his duty to inform and educate the owner. "I
said I think you're wrong." "Excuse
me?" Michael thought for sure he'd heard her incorrectly. "I
appreciate your coming out in the middle of the night, but True simply
cannot be pregnant." "Because
it's not penciled in on your Day-Timer?" "How
do you know I use a Day-Timer?" He
tossed his stethoscope onto the back counter. "Lady, it's written
all over you. If you'd like a second opinion, there's a clinic out by
the interstate." She
tugged at her bottom lip, apparently weighing his statement, and possibly
her own obstinate behavior. That was hopeful thinking on his part, Michael
realized, but he wanted her, for whatever reason, not to be as stuck
on herself and her view of the world as she appeared to be. He was the
one who wanted a second opinion-of a stranger who'd wrested him from
bed then insulted him. Despite all the warning signs she exhibited,
she'd caught his interest. "Get
a life," he muttered, mostly to himself. She
looked at him sharply. That made him smile as he realized she thought
he'd been speaking to her. "To
get a another consultation, I'd have to spend the night in town,"
she said slowly. "That other clinic was closed." Michael
leaned forward and stroked the collie's head, refraining from adding,
"So was I." The dog was calm now, all symptoms of distress
vanished. She gazed at him, big brown eyes trusting and warm, and thumped
her tail gently against the examination table. "She seems to like
it here," he said. "You're welcome to board her. You can stay
at a place right off the square called Schoolhouse Inn. I'll show you
the way." At
last, she said, "Thank you. But you've done enough. Just give me
directions and I'm sure I can find the hotel. You must want to get back
to your family." "My
family?" Michael hadn't mentioned anything personal. "The
gas station attendant said how understanding your family was, but I'm
sure your wife must miss you when you go out on calls in the middle
of the night." That fussy line had disappeared from her mouth. She seemed softer, genuinely concerned for disrupting his life. And as she spoke, she was lightly rubbing one hand over True's belly. Something
clenched in Michael's gut. He swallowed hard, watching her gentle strokes,
picturing her hands on his own body. Nuts. He had no business fantasizing
over this woman. Too many lonely years in this godforsaken village of
a town had finally gotten to him. Slowly, his eyes fixed on hers, he
said, "I don't have a wife."
© 2002 Hailey North Tangled Up in Love * June 2002 * Avon Books * ISBN: 038-081308-4 * Order a copy!
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