Nancy Robards - How to Marry a Doctor

Then Jake shook her smooth, warm hand, and said, “Here’s to soul mates.”

Chapter Two Contents Cover Introduction “You just have to promise me one thing,” Jake said. Running the pad of her index finger over his tempting bottom lip, her wrist rubbed against the sexy stubble on his cheeks. Her body reacted with a warming shiver. He opened his mouth and gently caught her finger between his teeth. Nipped at it and sucked on it for a moment. It felt like she’d been waiting her entire life for this moment. Despite his words, he certainly didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get away. Yeah, he wasn’t going anywhere. Not right now, at least. “Anything,” Anna said. She wasn’t going to let him tell her he wasn’t good enough for her. She knew what she wanted, and he’d just slipped his arms around her again. “No regrets,” he said. “No regrets,” she answered. “But tell me something. How do you know that you’re not good for me—that we’re not good together—if we’ve never… tried it out?” *** Celebrations, Inc: Let’s get this party started! Title Page How to Marry a Doctor Nancy Robards Thompson www.millsandboon.co.uk About the Author National bestselling author NANCY ROBARDS THOMPSON holds a degree in journalism. She worked as a newspaper reporter until she realized reporting “just the facts” bored her silly. Much more content to report to her muse, Nancy loves writing women’s fiction and romance full-time. Critics have deemed her work “funny, smart and observant.” She resides in Florida with her husband and daughter. You can reach her at nancyrobardsthompson.com and facebook.com/nancyrobardsthompsonbooks . Dedication This book is dedicated to everyone who believes in happily ever after. Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Extract Copyright

S oul mates .

Why did hearing Jake say that word make her stomach flip? Especially since she wasn’t even sure if she believed in such a thing as soul mates . After all she’d been through with Hal, she still believed in love and marriage enough to try again...someday. But soul mates ? That was an entirely different subject. The sparkle had dulled from that notion when her marriage died.

“I’m done chopping.” Anna set the bowl on the granite counter next to the stove where Jake was melting butter in a frying pan. Then she deposited their empty beer bottles into the recycle bin in the garage.

“Now what can I do?” she said when she got back into the kitchen.

“Just have a seat over there.” With his elbow, he gestured toward the small kitchen table cluttered with mail and books. “Stay out of my way. Omelet-flipping is serious business. I am a trained professional. So don’t try this at home.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, eyeing the mess on the table’s surface. “That’s why I have you. So you can fix me omelets. Apparently, I will repay you by setting the table for us to eat. And after I’ve excavated a space to put the plates and silverware, then I might clean the rest of your house, too. I thought you had a housekeeper. Where has she been?”

“Her name’s Angie and she’s been down with the flu. Hasn’t been available to come in for two weeks.”

Anna glanced around the room at the newspapers littering the large, plush sectional sofa in the open-plan living room. There were mugs and stacks of magazines and opened mail on the masculine, wooden coffee and end tables. Several socks and running shoes littered the dark-stained, hardwood living room floor.

“Wow. Well...” In fact, it looked as if Jake had dropped everything right where he’d stood. “God, Jake, I didn’t realize you were such a slob.”

Jake followed her gaze. “I’m not a slob,” he said. “I’m just busy. And I wasn’t expecting company.”

Obviously.

Anna thought about asking why he didn’t simply walk a few more steps into the bathroom where he could deposit his socks into the dirty clothes hamper rather than leaving them strewn all over the floor. Instead, she focused on being part of the solution rather than nagging him and adding to the problem. She quickly organized the table clutter into neat piles, revealing two placemats underneath, and set out the silverware she’d just washed and dried.

“Where are your napkins?” she asked.

He handed her a roll of paper towels.

This was the first time in the month that she’d been home that they’d cooked at his place. Really, it was just an impromptu meal, but it was just dawning on her how little she’d been over at his place since she’d been back. That was thanks in large part to Jake’s girlfriend. She wondered if Dorenda had seen the mess—or had helped create it—but before she could ask, she realized she really didn’t want to know.

“It must be a pretty serious case of the flu if Angie has been down for two weeks. Has she been to the doctor?”

Jake gave a one-shoulder shrug. “She’s fine. I ran into her at the coffee shop in downtown the other day. She looked okay to me. She’ll probably be back next week.”

Anna balked. “Why do you keep her?”

She crossed the room to straighten the newspapers and corral the socks. She couldn’t just stand there while Jake was cooking and the papers were cluttering up the place and in the back of her mind she could hear him toasting soul mates.

Even that small act of picking up would help work off some of her nervous energy.

“I don’t have time to find someone else,” he said. “Besides, it’s not that bad around here.”

She did a double take, looking back at him to see if he was kidding.

Apparently not.

But even if it looked as if Jake had simply dropped things and left them where they fell, the house wasn’t dirty. It didn’t smell bad. In fact, it smelled like him —like coffee and leather and something else that bridged the years and swept her back to a simpler time before she’d married the wrong man and Jake had become a serial monogamist. She breathed in deeper, wondering if they were still the same people or if the years and circumstances had changed them too much.

She bent to pick up a dog-eared issue of Sports Illustrated that was sprawled on the floor facedown. As she prepared to close it back to its regular shape, she nearly dropped it again when she spied the tiny, silky purple thong hidden underneath. Like a lavender spider. Only it didn’t get up and crawl away.

“Eww.” Anna grimaced. “I think Miss Texas forgot something.”

Jake gave a start as his gaze fell to where Anna pointed.

She reached over and grabbed the poker from the fireplace tool set on the hearth and used it to lift the thong off the ground.

“This is classy. How does a woman forget her underwear?”

He smiled that adorable lopsided smile that always suggested something a little bit naughty. There was no doubt why women fell for him. Heck, she’d fall for him if he weren’t her best friend.

“She carried a big purse,” Jake said. “It was like a portable closet. She probably didn’t leave here commando.” His gaze strayed back to the panties. “Then again, maybe she did.”

Anna raised the poker. The thong resembled a scanty purple flag, which she swiftly disposed of in the trash can.

“She might want that back,” Jake protested.

“Really? You think she’s going to call and ask if you found her underwear?”

They locked gazes.

“If she does—” Anna scowled at him and pointed to the garbage “—it’s right here.”

He was quiet as he pulled out the toaster and put in two slices of whole wheat bread.