Kate Carlisle
Sweet Surrender, Baby Surprise
© 2010
Dear Reader,
Years ago, wealthy young widow Sally Duke adopted three troubled boys, Adam, Cameron and Brandon. She gave them love and affection, strong values and a sense of family they’d never had before, and they grew up to be confident, handsome and powerful businessmen.
Now it’s payback time. Sally Duke wants grandbabies and she’s willing to play hardball to get them! You may have already read Adam Duke’s story. Now, in Sweet Surrender, Baby Surprise, it’s Cameron’s turn to face his mother’s matchmaking machinations. When he runs into lovely pastry chef Julia Parrish, he has no idea that their last romantic tryst resulted in the birth of a darling baby boy-but Sally knows!
The dramatic central California coast is the setting for my Duke brothers stories. As a California girl myself, I’ve grown up spellbound by the rugged beauty of the cliffs, the Zen-like dignity of the singular palm tree wavering in the wind, the power of the ocean waves pounding against the shore. But mixed in with all that power and ruggedness is the laid-back relaxation that California is famous for. My three handsome heroes have their own easygoing style and it works well for them-until they’re confronted by love!
I hope you enjoy Cameron and Julia’s story. Please stop by my website at www.katecarlisle.com and let me know. Happy reading!
Kate
To the wonderful Susan Mallery, with love and thanks for being a true and generous friend. Drinks are on me!
All Cameron Duke wanted to do was rip off his tie, grab a beer and get laid, not necessarily in that order. He’d been working too hard for way too long on the current Duke Development project and he was damn tired of living in a hotel suite.
On the other hand, he reasoned as he slid his key card into the door slot, he couldn’t really complain about it. After all, he owned the hotel. And the owner’s suite of the Monarch Dunes resort hotel was two thousand square feet of luxury: all the comforts of home with a wide terrace, fantastic ocean views and room service. Nope, he couldn’t complain about that.
As he stepped inside the foyer of his suite, Cameron vowed that as soon as the hotel’s international catering conference was over, he would go fishing. The resort was up and running to capacity, so it was time for him to take off for a few weeks, get away and do nothing. Maybe he’d rent a houseboat up on Lake Shasta, or grab a raft and float down the King River. Or maybe he’d just make a few calls…
Not to put too fine a point on it, he definitely needed to get laid.
Pulling his tie loose, he dropped his keys on the foyer side table, placed his briefcase on the marble floor and stepped into the living room, where every light in the room was turned on.
“Now, what’s wrong with this picture?” he muttered, knowing he’d switched the lights off when he left two days ago.
Not only was every light on in the suite, but the drapes were all closed. Housekeeping knew he preferred the drapes to stay open in order to take advantage of the incredible Pacific view. The room was on the top floor of the Craftsman-style hotel, and the double-paned windows were tempered glass and lightly tinted. It wasn’t as if anyone could see inside.
He shrugged out of his suit jacket. Maybe there was someone new working in Housekeeping. They must’ve left the lights on and closed the drapes without knowing his preferences. It could happen. But it wouldn’t happen again.
Taking a few steps into the room, he saw a strange paperback book, opened and facedown on the coffee table. Then his gaze focused in on another foreign object draped over the arm of the couch.
Moving closer, he carefully picked up the soft bit of fabric. Pink, trimmed with paler pink lace around the edges. Lingerie. Expensive. Absurdly feminine. He fingered the fancy silk and the lightest scent of orange blossoms and spice wafted up and enveloped him. The fragrance was vaguely familiar and his groin tightened as an inexplicable need arose in the pit of his stomach.
“What the hell?” He tossed the camisole back on the couch. Not that he didn’t appreciate a nice bit of feminine adornment as much as the next guy, but right now he was more concerned with how in the world it got in here.
“Beer first,” he decided, and cut through the spacious dining room to get to the kitchen. That’s when he saw the high heels. Sexy ones. Red. Tucked under the dining room table.
He hated to repeat himself, but what the hell?
Red high heels? It had to be a joke. Something like this was right up his brother Brandon’s alley. And if Cameron hadn’t already been annoyed at having his quiet evening interrupted, he might’ve managed to laugh about it.
He moved cautiously past the bar into the kitchen. No, Brandon wasn’t hiding there, waiting to jump out and yell that Cameron had been Punk’d. But that didn’t mean his brother wasn’t around somewhere. Cameron grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, twisted the cap off, took a long, slow drink, then stared at the row of empty baby bottles lined up next to the sink.
Baby bottles?
“Okay, that’s enough,” he said, then shouted, “Brandon? Where are you?” There was no answer.
“I know you’re in here somewhere,” he said as he walked through the double doors and down the wide hall toward the master bedroom.
That’s when he heard the singing.
He froze. A woman’s voice, slightly off key, singing some old song about piña coladas and getting caught in the rain. Some woman was singing in the shower. His shower. In his bathroom.
He glanced at his navy polo shirt neatly tossed over the back of the chair in the corner. Those were his running shoes tucked under the chair, too.
Good. He was in the right suite. Which meant that some woman was definitely in the wrong one. Cameron swore under his breath. This had to be Brandon’s work. It would be just like his brother to hire a woman as a “surprise.” It was the only explanation, because without the approval of a family member, there was no way the front desk would ever allow a strange woman into his room.
He stood listening to the soft singing and wondered what his next step ought to be. He should probably be a gentleman and wait for whomever it was to finish her shower, dry off and put some clothes on before he kicked her out. But then, he’d never claimed to be a gentleman.
Besides, he wasn’t the one guilty of breaking and entering. And showering. So he stood at the entrance to the bathroom and waited as the water was turned off and the shower door opened.
One incredibly shapely, bare, wet leg emerged at the same time as a well-toned, lightly freckled arm reached to grab a towel. Cameron pulled one off the rack and handed it to her. “Allow me.”
Her scream was shrill enough to peel the paint off the bathroom wall.
“Get out!” she cried, then dropped the towel in her anxious rush to cover herself up.
“Funny, that’s just what I was about to say to you,” he told her.
Cameron wasn’t normally a voyeur. He should’ve moved away from the door immediately and given her some privacy, but he couldn’t. All he could do was gawk like a school kid at her wet-dream-inducing breasts. High, round orbs with tight pink nipples that he imagined would fit perfectly in his hands. And his mouth. His imagination didn’t stop there. He wanted to reach out and touch the smooth skin of her stomach, then let his fingers wander down to the delicious patch of dark blond hair at the apex of her curvaceous thighs.
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