Michele Dunaway - The Marriage Campaign

“Okay,” Mark said slowly, as if quite lost. “About what?”

“About this. Us. Our motivations.”

“I thought we’d done that already.” Mark frowned as he tried to comprehend the situation. “Today’s simply about having fun. I’ve got some great places in mind for tonight.”

Lisa crossed her arms over her chest. She and Mark couldn’t afford any miscommunication here. “Before I can go anywhere with you, I have to know how tonight is going to end.”

Mark shifted, planting his feet on the floor. He straightened but remained seated. The dark blue shirt set off his deep brown eyes, and his troubled gaze locked onto hers. “Tonight ends like any other night. I’ve already told you to stop worrying. We’re friends. I’m not going to seduce you.”

Adrenaline unlike any she’d ever experienced pulsed through her. “That’s the problem,” she said. “I really think you should.”

Dear Reader,

I have great friends. Three of them have been friends since high school, while others have been my friends since my college sorority days. All have been with me through thick and thin, good and bad, better and worse. My friends and I chose each other, and I’m a better person for having them in my life. Even though we all live far away from each other and our lives have taken different paths, we are always there for each other.

My AMERICAN BEAUTIES miniseries uses this concept of friendship. Lisa, Cecile and Tori are three single women who have been best friends ever since pledging the same sorority. The fourth sorority sister, Joann, is married with kids. While all are separated geographically, they know that they can always depend on each other. The bonds they have will never be broken.

I hope you enjoy Lisa’s story as much as I did writing it, and be sure to watch for Cecile’s and Tori’s stories in the future. As always, feel free to e-mail me at michele@micheledunaway.com.

Enjoy the romance,

Michele Dunaway

The Marriage Campaign

Michele Dunaway

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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In first grade Michele Dunaway wanted to be a teacher when she grew up, and by second grade she wanted to be an author. By third grade she was determined to be both, and before her high school class reunion, she’d succeeded. In addition to writing romance, Michele is a nationally recognized high school English and journalism educator. Born and raised in a west county suburb of St. Louis, Michele has traveled extensively, with the cities and places she’s visited often becoming settings for her stories. Described as a woman who does too much but doesn’t know how to stop, Michele gardens five acres in her spare time and shares her life with two young daughters, six lazy house cats, one dwarf rabbit and two tankfuls of fish.

Michele loves to hear from readers, and you can reach her via her Web site, www.micheledunaway.com.

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

848—A LITTLE OFFICE ROMANCE

900—TAMING THE TABLOID HEIRESS

921—THE SIMPLY SCANDALOUS PRINCESS

931—CATCHING THE CORPORATE PLAYBOY

963—SWEEPING THE BRIDE AWAY

988—THE PLAYBOY’S PROTÉGÉE

1008—ABOUT LAST NIGHT…

1044—UNWRAPPING MR. WRIGHT

1056—EMERGENCY ENGAGEMENT

1100—LEGALLY TENDER

1116—CAPTURING THE COP

For all the students I have taught over the years, I hope the friendships you’ve made and continue to make last a lifetime.

And to my own friends, thanks again.

You mean the world to me.

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

She shouldn’t be kissing him. Not here, not like this. But when he lowered his mouth to hers, no amount of moral fiber could keep her from tasting his forbidden lips.

Mark tasted divine—of wedding cake and champagne. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” Lisa Meyer said weakly as, for one moment, they came up for air.

“We should,” he said, leaning down again for another kiss.

“You’re my best friend’s brother,” she protested in moth-to-flame futility. “Your date…”

“Is just a friend,” he insisted, his dark eyes intense. “It’s you I want. Always have. Ever since we first met.”

“You’re drunk,” she said. But weren’t they all high on champagne and wedding magic? Joann’s parents, Mary Beth and Bud, had thrown quite a bash, and since everyone was staying at the reception hotel, no one had shown much restraint.

She and Mark were young, not quite twenty-two, the world at their feet, and his words made her giddy. Made her forget his playboy reputation now that all that charm was directed at her.

In her wildest dreams she’d never imagined her crush on Mark Smith coming to fruition like this.

“Let’s go upstairs,” he murmured into her ear. “I want to get you alone.”

Oh, she was so tempted, as the heat pooling low attested. But, as wedding party members, they weren’t free. Not yet. Not until the bride and her groom said their goodbyes, which was soon. “We still have duties,” she managed, her breath a little short.

“A half hour. No more,” he said. “I want you, Lisa. I’m not waiting any longer.”

“Okay,” she heard herself say as she somehow detached herself from his arms. Happiness consumed her and, coupled with all the champagne, she felt as if she were floating as they left the off-the-beaten-path corridor and returned to the hotel ballroom where the two-hundred-plus-person reception was being held.

“Lisa, there you are!” Tori, bridesmaid and another of Lisa’s best friends, grabbed her as she entered. “I’ve been looking for you. It’s time to help Joann change. Come on.”

And with that, Lisa got sidetracked. Her last glimpse of Mark was him disappearing into the crowd. She sighed and went to help Joann, her body humming with anticipation. She missed catching the bouquet. She tossed some rice. She found her nerves taut as the moment to join him finally came. But the crowd was still thick, and she found herself going in circles.

“Have you seen Mark?” she asked Cecile, another best friend. They were all members of Rho Sigma Gamma—the Roses.

“Nope,” Cecile answered. “Why? He’s scamming on everyone here tonight. His poor date.”

“She’s just a friend.”

“That’s what they all say,” Cecile said with a knowing nod. “Wait. There he is. Going out that door. That’s not who he came with, is it?”

Lisa glanced over. Mark was leading a tall brunette out a side exit door. He had his arm around her shoulder and was holding her close. “No,” Lisa said. “That’s not who he came with.”

“Well, if you need him, you better hurry up and catch him.”

Lisa shook her head. Mark Smith had said he wasn’t waiting any longer. How badly she’d misunderstood! “No,” she said, plastering a nonchalant expression on her face so Cecile wouldn’t suspect anything. “I don’t need him. It was nothing important.”