Cindi Myers - Say You Want Me

But Carter needed answers first. “Do I make you tremble, Joni?”

She drew in a ragged breath, but didn’t answer him.

He slid both of his hands up her arms to her shoulders, kneading away the tension there. “Because you sure as hell shake up my world.”

This time he didn’t stop himself. When she turned her head away, he leaned in and kissed her neck, his lips resting against her skin as he spoke. “You’ve got me thinking about things…wanting things…I haven’t dared think about before.”

He moved up, feathering kisses along her jaw, until he was hovering over her mouth. He pulled her closer, crushing her to him. He kissed the side of her mouth, and then her lips, nipping, licking, suckling, lavishing attention on her sensitive mouth. “I want you,” he whispered. “And I’m not going to let you pretend anymore that you don’t want me.”

She let out a gasp. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I want you!”

Dear Reader,

Do you believe in love at first sight? In finding your soul mate? I’ll admit I believe in these things. What can I say—I’m a true romantic.

The hero of this book, Carter Sullivan, started out to be an entirely different type of man. But the moment I wrote his first scene I realized that underneath this experienced street cop was a romantic who believed that Fate would send him the woman of his dreams.

My heroine, Joni Montgomery, thinks finding the right man requires a practical approach, like choosing a financial investment or planning a schedule.

When practical and romantic meet, sparks fly. Whose approach is the right one? Open the book and find out.

I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love to hear from readers. Write to me in care of Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, M3B 3K9, Canada, or e-mail me at CindiMyers1@aol.com.

Best wishes,

Cindi Myers

HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION

902—IT’S A GUY THING!

HARLEQUIN BLAZE

82—JUST 4 PLAY

Say You Want Me

Cindi Myers

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For Lynda and Trent.

Thank you, Lynda, for all your help with this one.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

AS EMERGENCIES WENT, this one was definitely a Code Blue. Joni Montgomery leaned back against the nurses’ station counter at San Antonio’s Santa Rosa Hospital and stared at the phone in her hand as if it might morph into an octopus at any moment. After all, things like that happened in nightmares, didn’t they? And this couldn’t possibly be real.

She put the phone back to her ear and tried to sound calm. “Now, Mama, maybe you misunderstood. G.P. couldn’t possibly be coming here this time of year. She’s always in Charlotte for the V.A. Air Show.”

“I wish I was wrong, but I know what she said. Your grandmother Pettigrew is coming to San Antonio in two weeks and she’s staying until she finds you a husband.”

Joni ground her teeth and thrust one hand into the pocket of her nurse’s smock. She could have sworn she’d stashed some samples of extra-strength headache pills there earlier. All of a sudden, she could feel a mother of a headache coming on. “Why does she have to do this now? In fact, why does she have to do this at all? Doesn’t she think I can find my own man?”

“Apparently not. She said she’s waited twenty-six years and she’s not going to wait any longer for you to find a suitable husband.”

Joni squeezed against the counter to allow an EKG cart to pass. “Mama, you know the kind of man G.P. thinks is suitable.” She closed her eyes, picturing the parade of race-car drivers, fighter pilots and bull riders her grandmother had sent her way. There’d even been one bomb demolition expert. Give a man a dangerous job or a reckless attitude and he was prime husband material as far as G.P. was concerned.

“She thinks you need more excitement in your life.”

“Being an emergency department nurse isn’t exciting enough?” Joni looked at the row of crash carts ready for use, the curtained exam rooms and the half-dozen doctors and nurses moving busily among them. One Saturday night around this place made a person long for the mundane and ordinary.

“What’s wrong with a boring man?” she asked. “You married a boring man.” Joni’s father was a tax assessor whose idea of excitement was Friday night at the video store.

“Your father may seem boring to you, but he’s actually very romantic.”

Joni resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Her entire family was addicted to romance, leaving Joni the odd woman out. “Romance is overrated,” she said, not for the first time. Other things were much more important in a relationship: dependability, stability, integrity. Things she hadn’t found in the right combination yet, but she was sure she would, given time to do things her own way.

“Romance is not overrated to your grandmother. And not to you, if you’d only admit it.”

Joni groaned. “I won’t do it, Mama. I won’t marry some adrenaline junkie just to please G.P.”

“You’ll have to discuss that with her when she gets here. I only called to warn you.”

“Thanks, Mama. For the warning, anyway.” She hung up the phone and slumped against the counter. She’d scream, but that tended to upset the patients. So she settled for reaching behind the counter and helping herself to the staff supply of M&M’s. Headache pills were fine for some things, but serious crises called for chocolate.

“Joni, we need a hand over here.”

Soon, both Joni’s hands were occupied giving a breathing treatment to a thirteen-year-old girl who’d had an allergic reaction to peanuts. While she monitored the girl’s vitals and waited for the treatment to take effect, Joni considered her options.

She could leave town. But she only had a week’s accumulated vacation, and she couldn’t afford to travel very far. G.P. would either stay in town until Joni returned or come looking for her.

She could refuse to cooperate. After all, she was a grown woman in the United States of America. The idea of her grandmother choosing a husband for her was ridiculous.

Except that G.P. wrote the book on stubborn. She’d simply smile and keep going her own way, and the next thing Joni knew, she’d be standing at the altar with a motorcycle stunt rider or a professional mountain climber by her side.

She checked the oxygen sensor attached to the girl’s index finger. “You’re doing really good,” she said, patting the child’s shoulder. “Keep breathing.”

If running away and putting her foot down didn’t work, that left one other choice: she had to convince her grandmother that she already had a man in her life. That G.P. didn’t have to hunt up a husband for her granddaughter, because marriage was already imminent.