Michele Dunaway - Legally Tender

All authors try to be as accurate as possible; nevertheless, in order to tell a story, fictional liberties are often taken. I’m certainly no exception in this regard. However, Title VII is real, and violations of this civil rights law are illegal in the United States, where workers have the right to a harassment- and discrimination-free workplace. For more information, please visit www.eeoc.gov, or call 1-800-669-4000.

A special thank-you goes to Dwayne Swacker, Spanish teacher at Francis Howell High School, for his language expertise. Any errors in his work are mine.

Dear Reader,

There is no such thing as a normal life. But that’s not about to stop Christina Jones from searching for it. She’s not interested in the sexy volunteer firefighter who saves the day at her daughter’s elementary school, especially once she learns he’s the man whose day job involves the law firm where she’s just taken on a senior partnership. And Christina doesn’t need another “prince”—she’s already had that experience! As for Bruce Lancaster, firefighter/whiz lawyer, he’s about to discover that love comes in unexpected packages, and that to rescue his own heart, he may need to go above and beyond the call of duty.

For my tenth book, I wanted to write about those firefighters who lay their hearts and lives on the line every day, especially the ones who volunteer for the job and serve rural communities like mine. Setting the story close to my cousins’ home gave me an excuse to visit again.

I hope you enjoy reading about Christina and Bruce as much as I did writing them. They are very close to my heart. As always, feel free to e-mail me at michele@micheledunaway.com, and be sure to look for Olivia Jacobsen’s story later this year. You’ll remember her as Shane’s sister from About Last Night….

Enjoy the romance!

Michele Dunaway

Legally Tender

Michele Dunaway

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

For the McMenamy family, who welcomed me as their own, especially John Michael and Lucy Kate. I am very proud of both of you and what you have done with your lives.

And to the staff at Francis Howell High School. Thanks for letting me work with such great people.

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

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

She had never felt so incompetent in her life. It was her fault the thick gray smoke billowed, the fire alarms blared and the fire trucks honked obnoxiously in the distance.

This time it wasn’t because she’d burned the Thanks-giving turkey. No. This time she’d ruined Halloween.

Her eyes watered as the acrid smoke traveled from the large gym into the elementary-school cafeteria. She could almost hear her ex-husband’s condescending voice over the clanging fire-alarm bells: “Christina Sanchez Jones, when will you learn to do something right?” And yet Christina had graduated with honors from prestigious Harvard Law School.

“Mama? Are you crying?” a tiny voice asked as the harsh bells finally ceased.

Christina blinked and glanced down at her eight-year-old daughter. Bella sported black cat whiskers. A beaded black headband complete with furry black-and-pink cat ears held her dark-blond hair away from her face. “We won’t have to cancel the Halloween party, will we, Mama? There wasn’t a fire. Only fake smoke.”

“No,” Christina said, wiping the back of her left hand across her eyes. Through the cafeteria windows, Christina could see that a fire truck had pulled into the parking lot. “We are not canceling. We still have bobbing for apples and a craft left to do. We just won’t have the haunted house.”

“That’s okay! I don’t care!” Bella shouted. She turned back to the other second-grade members of her Brownie troop. Like Bella, they were dressed in Halloween costumes. “The party’s still on!” she whooped.

“Why don’t you all go eat your snacks,” Christina suggested as a group of firemen raced through the cafeteria into the gym. Their heavy boots thudded on the freshly buffed floor. “Mrs. Sims,” Christina called, “let’s do snack now. Does that sound good?”

“Absolutely,” Mrs. Sims replied. Darla Sims was an unofficial troop leader, and within seconds, she had all the girls organized at a cafeteria table, eating pumpkin-shaped cookies and drinking witches’ brew—a concoction of orange juice, lime sherbet and white soda pop.

Christina sighed and entered the gym. The firemen were checking out what was to have been a haunted house.

There really hadn’t been a fire, but Christina should have known better. She should have realized that a smoke machine would not only create a spooky atmosphere, but it would also trigger the smoke detectors and, in turn, the school’s fire-alarm system. She’d known exactly what was happening the moment the first fire bell pealed. Now her mother’s voice resounded in Christina’s head. The good woman had supported Christina’s divorce from Kyle Jones, but she hadn’t wanted her daughter to move to Morrisville, Indiana. Too Midwest, too far from Houston, too small town and simply too far from home and the myriad of relatives who lived just a short plane ride over the Mexican border. “If you’re such a hotshot lawyer,” her mother had argued, “you should have been able to get around that seventy-five-mile child-custody restriction in your divorce decree. You should have been allowed to move anywhere. Like home. Morrisville, Indiana? Do they even have a McDonald’s in that town?”

The answer was yes. Morrisville did have the fast-food restaurant, right at the Highway 74 overpass and next to the town’s new gas station—

A deep voice cut through her turbulent thoughts. “They said you were the one in charge.”

Actually, the woman in charge of the Brownie troop’s Friday-night Halloween party was home with the flu. Her directions had included plugging in the smoke machine. But that didn’t give Christina an excuse. One of her role models was law-school graduate and thirty-third president of the United States, Harry S. Truman. To paraphrase Truman, The buck stopped with her.

Prepared to accept full responsibility, she turned and looked behind her.

And into the clearest blue eyes she’d ever seen. She resisted her instinct to step back, and took a deep breath. “I’m in charge,” she admitted.

“So you’re responsible for this?” The fireman made a wide sweeping gesture with his right hand, his serious gaze holding hers.