Carole Mortimer - The Fiance Fix

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We’re constantly striving to bring you the best romance fiction by the most exciting authors…and in Harlequin Romance® we’re especially keen to feature fresh, sparkling, warmly emotional novels. Modern love stories to suit your every mood—poignant, deeply moving stories; lively upbeat romances with sparks flying; or sophisticated, edgy novels with an international flavor.

All our authors are special, and we hope you continue to enjoy each month’s new selection of Harlequin Romance novels. We’re proud to feature international bestselling Harlequin Presents author Carole Mortimer, who makes a special guest appearance in Harlequin Romance this month! Carole has more than 50 million books in print worldwide—her strong characters and dramatic stories keep readers enthralled until the very last page. In The Fiancé Fix, Carole has created a tantalizing feel-good story with a gripping emotional dilemma….

We hope you enjoy this book by Carole Mortimer—and look out for future sparkling stories in Harlequin Romance. If you’d like to share your thoughts and comments with us, do please write to:

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Happy reading!

The Editors

Carole Mortimer says, “I was born in England, the youngest of three children—I have two older brothers. I started writing in 1978, and have now written over ninety books for Harlequin.

“I have four sons—Matthew, Joshua, Timothy and Peter—and a bearded collie called Merlyn. I’m in a very happy relationship with Peter senior. We’re best friends as well as lovers, which is probably the best recipe for a successful relationship. We live on the Isle of Man.”

“Carole Mortimer integrates great character development into a fast-paced story.”

—Romantic Times on The One and Only

“Carole Mortimer does an excellent job of piquing readers with a mysterious plot and multi-faceted characters that blend to perfection.”

—Romantic Times on Fated Attraction

“Carole Mortimer dishes up outstanding reading as she blends dynamic characters, volatile scenes, superb chemistry and a wonderful premise.”

—Romantic Times on Married by Christmas

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My Husband,

Peter

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

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

‘IS THIS place only for women, or do you do men as well?’

Now, there was a leading question, Joey thought humorously, looking up from the money she had been counting in the till at the end of a long working day.

Wow! The man standing in the doorway might not have a way with words, but his looks more than made up for it: tall and muscular, with a ruggedly handsome face, shaggy dark hair, and come-to-bed eyes the same colour as melted brown chocolate.

Joey paused; now, where had that last thought come from? She was a thirty-year-old single mother with a six-year-old daughter. During the last ten years or so she thought she had heard every chat-up line in the book—she had certainly never been attracted to a man because of the unspoken message in his eyes—the opposite in fact!

She straightened. ‘This is a unisex hair salon, if that’s what you’re asking,’ she answered drily.

His mouth twisted. ‘That’s what I was asking,’ he confirmed wryly. ‘Do you have the time to do something with his?’ He ran a rueful hand through the thickness of his dark, unruly hair.

In fact, the salon had closed at five-thirty, five minutes ago, but Susie, the last assistant to leave, must have forgotten to put the catch down on the door on her way out.

‘Actually, we’re closed—’

‘I’m sorry to have bothered you.’ The man nodded, turning to leave.

‘—but if you’re only wanting a trim…?’ Joey finished with a questioning rise of her blonde brows. It was Lily’s evening for ballet, so Joey didn’t actually have to leave to collect her for another half an hour or so.

‘That’s great!’ The man did such a quick about-face as he strode back into the salon, closing the door behind him as he did so, that Joey took a step backwards.

He certainly wasn’t backward in coming forward! And in the confines of the modern salon, with its black and chrome decor, posters of the latest hairstyles adorning the walls, the man’s sheer size was even more noticeable. Broad shoulders in a checked work shirt, tapered waist, long legs in blue, slightly dusty denims—the man had to be well over six feet tall.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all, Joey worried as she came out from behind the reception desk; despite his size, the man seemed friendly enough, but the two of them were very much alone in here, and even serial killers could probably be charming!

‘Believe me, I’m only interested in having my hair trimmed,’ the man reassured her as he settled himself down in one of the chairs that faced the mirrored wall.

Joey’s face flamed with embarrassment. So much for the cool sophisticate she believed herself to be; one look at her expression, and this man had known exactly what she was thinking!

She took down one of the protective wraps hanging on the rail behind her and draped it around him, effectively trapping his hands beneath its folds; a rose-pink wrap usually set aside for female clients. Two could play at this game!

‘Now, what would you like done?’ she enquired in her most professional voice, looking at his reflection in the mirror, dismissing the realisation of how tiny she looked standing next to him. Only as tall standing as he was sitting down, her shoulder-length blonde hair cut in a shaggy easy-to-manage style, guarded green eyes surrounded by dark lashes as they met his gaze levelly.

He shrugged. ‘As I said, just a trim.’

He had very nice hair, as chocolate-brown as those teasing eyes. If a little dusty, she discovered as she ran her hands professionally through the healthy brown waves.

‘Would you like your hair washed before I cut it?’ she offered lightly.

‘I’ll wash it later when I shower,’ he refused with a grimace. ‘If you don’t mind the fact I’m a little dusty, that is?’ He raised dark brows.

‘Not at all.’ Joey turned away to pick up her comb and scissors, having noticed on closer proximity that he gave off an odour of aftershave, with an underlying masculine smell of sweat usually engendered by physical labour. ‘Are you working on the building site next door?’ she asked conversationally as she began to cut his hair.

He nodded. ‘I really am sorry I’m such a mess,’ he grimaced again. ‘Ordinarily, I would never have come in here straight from work, but—’