Michelle Celmer - Playing by the Baby Rules

Marisa realized her mouth was hanging open and closed it. “Are you sure about this?”

“It makes sense,” he said. “You want to raise a child on your own—no husband or significant other, right?”

“Absolutely. But we’re talking about creating a life, Jake—a baby. We’re talking about sex. You and me, having sex. Together,” Marisa said.

“Are you saying that you don’t want to have sex with me? That you find me unappealing?”

“No! What woman wouldn’t find you appealing?” Marisa leaned forward, clasping Jake’s hands firmly between her own. “And I would be proud to carry your child. But you realize this isn’t a one-shot deal. It could take months of trying,” she said.

Jake nodded solemnly. “I’m in it for the long haul.”

Dear Reader,

Welcome to Silhouette Desire and another month of sensual tales. Our compelling continuity DYNASTIES: THE DANFORTHS continues with the story of a lovely Danforth daughter whose well-being is threatened and the hot U.S. Navy SEAL assigned to protect her. Maureen Child’s Man Beneath the Uniform gives new meaning to the term sleepover!

Other series this month include TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB: THE STOLEN BABY with Cindy Gerard’s fabulous Breathless for the Bachelor. Seems this member of the Lone Star state’s most exclusive club has it bad for his best friend’s sister. Lucky lady! And Rochelle Alers launches a brand-new series, THE BLACKSTONES OF VIRGINIA, with The Long Hot Summer, which is set amid the fascinating world of horse-breeding.

Anne Marie Winston singes the pages with her steamy almost-marriage-of-convenience story, The Marriage Ultimatum. And in Cherokee Stranger by Sheri WhiteFeather, a man gets a second chance with a woman who wants him for her first time. Finally, welcome brand-new author Michelle Celmer with Playing by the Baby Rules, the story of a woman desperate for a baby and the hunky man who steps up to give her exactly what she wants.

Here’s hoping Silhouette Desire delivers exactly what you desire in a powerful, passionate and provocative read!

Best,

Melissa Jeglinski

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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lives in southeastern Michigan with her husband, Steve, their three children, two dogs, two cats and a leopard gecko. When she’s not writing or busy being a mom, you can find her in the garden weeding or curled up with a book. And if you twist her arm real hard you can usually persuade her into a day of power shopping.

Michelle loves to hear from readers. Visit her Web site at: www.michellecelmer.com.

To Steve for his unconditional support, and my children

for always being proud of me.

To my parents, who never doubted I would make it.

To Debby, Tonya, Jodi and all the Survivor ladies

for your invaluable critiques, and encouragement,

when it seemed hopeless.

And to Therese: There you have it….

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

Chapter Sixteen

“I’m telling you, Risa, all you need is a turkey baster.”

Marisa Donato looked up from the new shipment of jasmine-scented aromatherapy candles she’d been shelving and shot Lucy Lopez, her moderately demented sales associate, a look of disgust. “Impregnate myself with a turkey baster? Tell me you’re joking.”

“I just figured, if you’re so opposed to the idea of sex, why not?”

Marisa cringed as a pair of young women browsing near the push-up bras exchanged curious glances. Open talk of sex was probably common when the shop specialized in adult toys and pornographic videos. Since Marisa had transformed the store into Intimate Secrets, an upscale lingerie boutique, blatantly sexual merchandise was a thing of the past. Lucy’s blatantly sexual language, however, was a habit Marisa hadn’t yet broken.

Marisa lowered her voice. “I am not opposed to sex. Just that kind of sex. And even if I were to consider impregnating myself with a kitchen gadget, which I wouldn’t in a million years, where am I going to get the, uh…genetic material?”

Oblivious to the customers, Lucy shrugged and said loudly, “I don’t know. A sperm bank?”

She was rewarded with a round of giggles from the back of the store.

Marisa dropped her voice to a whisper. “I don’t think you can just walk in and say, ‘Hi, I’d like to make a withdrawal.’ Besides, the whole idea is too weird.”

“Okay, so the turkey baster is out.” Lucy chose a candle from the stock behind the counter and dug a lighter out of her jeans pocket. She lit it, and the spicy sweet scent of cinnamon drifted up in a curl of smoke. “Why don’t you just stick with your original plan and have it done artificially?”

“The doctor said the chances of the artificial insemination working are only ten to fifteen percent per cycle, and he’s supposed to be one of the best fertility specialists in Michigan. With success rates like that, it could cost me a small fortune. He recommended doing it naturally.”

“So you either find a small fortune or do it the old-fashioned way?”

“Exactly. And because of the endometriosis, it could take months to conceive.”

Lucy leaned back, resting her elbows on the counter. “What you need is a man who would agree to unadulterated, no-strings-attached sex.”

“More or less.” The thought made her stomach pitch. Ironically, her mother would have jumped at the offer. Make it a different man every night and she would have been in her glory.

“My God, Risa, what man wouldn’t agree to that? There has to be a couple hundred in Royal Oak alone who would jump at the chance.”

That’s what she was afraid of. The idea of meaningless sex with some stranger just seemed so…sleazy. Unfortunately she was running out of options—and time.

What had begun as severe monthly cramping in her early teens was now relentless, stabbing pain. An annual checkup with her gynecologist revealed what she had already suspected. Radical surgery was inevitable. If she was going to have a baby, she was going to have to do it soon.

Artificial means had appeared to be the answer, until she’d learned the exorbitant fees and dismal success rates. Foreign and private adoptions were also far too pricey and domestic adoption for a middle-class, single working woman was practically unheard-of.

There was always the conventional “get married and have a family” routine. Collectively, her parents’ eight divorces had taught her one important lesson—marital bliss didn’t run in the family. By the time she left for college she’d lost track of how many “uncles” had come to stay with her and her mother. Uncles who, after Marisa had begun to develop physically, leered at her in a way that made her skin crawl. She hadn’t dared sleep at night without a chair hooked under her doorknob. Just in case.