Gwynne Forster - Sealed With a Kiss

Irreconcilable Differences

For artist and free spirit Naomi Logan, sexy radio call-in host Rufus Meade is the wrong man at the wrong time. His conservative views drive her crazy—especially his theories about working women. But after telling him what she thinks—on the air—the last thing she expects is to see him standing on her doorstep…handsome, outspoken and sexier than any man has a right to be.

Irresistible Desires

It seems that opposites not only attract, they ignite! His kisses leave her breathless. And she’s awakened feelings in him that he’s never felt before. But a failed marriage and the responsibility of raising two young sons alone make Rufus wary of getting too close. Then Naomi uncovers a shocking secret from her own past…a secret that could drive Rufus even further away.

Will their romance lead to heartbreak or happiness for two very different people who are exactly the same…in their desire for love?

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Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoy this story of Naomi Logan and one of my favorite heroes, Rufus Meade. If you like reading about a sexy, strong, successful, loyal and faithful man who loves his woman and his family, then you’ll adore Rufus. Not only is this a romance in which opposites attract—and do they ever—it is also about having a loving relationship and being a single parent.

As in Sealed With A Kiss, I try to make every story I write upbeat and humorous, yet I always touch upon serious issues that couples encounter in finding true love. I hope you enjoy this Arabesque reissue, as well as the upcoming reissue of Against All Odds and a holiday collection that includes one of my short stories, “Christopher’s Gifts.”

I receive letters every day about books that I’ve written over the years, but none of my romances seem to be as popular as the Harrington series. The series includes Once In A Lifetime, After The Loving, Love Me or Leave Me, Love Me Tonight, and A Compromising Affair.

I enjoy receiving mail, so please email me at GwynneF@aol.com, or write me at P.O. Box 45, New York, NY 10044. If you want a reply, please enclose a self-addressed stamped envelope. Visit my webpage, www.gwynneforster.com, and follow me on Facebook (Gwynne Forster’s Page) and Twitter at http://twitter.com/UNOFF. For more information, please contact my agent, Pattie Steel-Perkins, Steel-Perkins Literary Agency at MYAGENTSPLA@aol.com.

Sincerely yours,

Gwynne Forster

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

My sincere thanks to Monica Harris, the former editor of Arabesque, who read the first three chapters of this story, asked me for the rest and three weeks later offered me a two-book contract that started me on my career as an author. I am grateful to my husband for his gracious acceptance of the time he spends alone while I’m focused on fiction writing; for the wonderful brochures he designs for each of my books; and for the many other ways in which he assists and promotes my work. I also thank my beloved stepson, who takes such pride in my work as a writer, solves my computer problems and encourages me in every way that he can.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 1

She burrowed deeper into her pillow, hoping to silence the persistent ringing in her ear. Finally, she gave up trying to sleep and reached for the phone.

“It’s six-thirty in the morning. Would whoever you are please go back to sleep?”

“Gal, I want you to come over here right away. There’s something I ought to tell you.” Naomi sighed and sat up in bed. The Reverend Judd Logan’s commands did not perturb Naomi. She had dealt with her paternal grandfather’s whims and orders since she was seven years old, when he became her guardian and she went to live with him. She tumbled out of bed, her eyes still heavy with sleep, and groped for the bathroom. She hadn’t asked him whether it was urgent: of course it was. To him, everything was urgent. And you never knew what to expect when you received his summons, but you could be certain that you were supposed to treat it as if it came from a court of law. She smiled despite herself. She was twenty-nine years old, but she was still a child as far as he was concerned. However, because she loved him, she didn’t have trouble with that. After all, there was nearly a seventy-year difference in their ages. Thoughts of his age gave her a moment of anxiety; his call really could be urgent. She dressed hurriedly, remembering to take a light jacket. Early mornings in October were sometimes chilly.

The drive from her condominium in Bethesda, Maryland, across Washington to Alexandria, Virginia, were her grandfather lived, took half an hour even at that time of morning. She parked her gray Taurus in front of her grandfather’s imposing Tudor-style home and rang the doorbell before letting herself in. Judd Logan didn’t like surprises. If you handed him one, he lectured you for an hour.

She entered the foyer dragging her feet, wondering at her sudden feeling of apprehension. The spacious vestibule had been her favorite childhood haunt, because her grandfather had put a console piano there for her and always placed little gifts and surprises on it. She would look up from her practice and notice him listening raptly, though he never told her that he enjoyed her playing. The piano remained, but it held no attraction; her childhood had ended abruptly when she was sixteen.

She found him in his study, writing his memoirs, and walked over to hug him, but he dusted her off with a gruff “Not now, gal, wait until I finish this sentence.” How typical of him to shun affection, she thought; not once in the nearly twenty-two years since she had gone to live with him had he ever made a gesture toward her that she could confuse with true emotional warmth. She knew that he locked his feelings inside, but she wished he would learn a little something about affection before he left this earth. At times, she’d give anything for a hug from him—or from just about anybody. For some odd reason, this was one of those times.

With a sigh, she sat down, perusing the snow-white curly hair that framed his dark, barely lined face and the piercing hazel-brown eyes that seemed to reflect a knowledge of all the ages gone by.

“What’s this about, Grandpa? You seemed a little agitated.”

He turned his writing pad upside down, drew a deep breath, and plunged in without preliminaries. “I’ve had two letters from them and yesterday I finally got a phone call. It’s about the baby.”

She jerked forward. “The baby? What baby? Who called you?”

The old man looked at her, and a sense of dread invaded her as she saw his pity and realized it was for her. “Yours, gal. I tried back then to spare you this. I thought that since the adoption papers were sealed by law, no one would ever know. But they found me, and that means they can find you, too. The adoptive mother says that the child wants to find its birth mother.” She saw him wince and knew that the lifelessness that she felt was mirrored in her face.