Gwynne Forster - Finding Mr. Right

“This is fan—” She stopped in the middle of the sentence, and when she opened her eyes, she was staring into the pools of naked desire in Byron’s eyes. She lowered the ice cream cone from her mouth.

“Byron…”

“It’s all right. You caught me off-guard. Aren’t you going to finish your ice cream?”

She nodded, and as soon as the ice cream touched her tongue, her discomfort disappeared. She reached across the table and stroked the back of his hand, not thinking what her touch might precipitate. He turned his hand over and caressed her palm with his own.

“Byron, tell me why you called me tonight. I…I have to know.”

“I’m a loner, Tyra. I have always enjoyed being alone. I like people and enjoy being with those I find interesting. But I’ve always liked the peace and quiet of being alone. I always did my best thinking walking by myself in the park. Tonight, I suddenly felt as if the bottom had dropped out. I sat in my den trying to work, and suddenly I felt so lonely that I couldn’t stand it. And you were the only person on this earth that I wanted to see.”

is a national bestselling author of more than twenty romance novels and novellas, as well as general fiction. She has worked as a journalist, a university professor and as a senior officer for the United Nations. She holds a bachelor’s and a master’s degree in sociology, and a master’s degree in economics/demography.

Gwynne sings in her church choir, loves to entertain at dinner parties, is a gourmet cook and an avid gardener. She enjoys jazz, opera, classical music and the blues. She also likes to visit museums and art galleries. She lives in New York with her husband.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To all of my fellow volunteers in the Obama Campaign for President of the United States—you helped make the impossible dream come true. And to President Barack Obama, who is the man for our time.

Dear Reader,

Thank you for making Private Lives, my previous Kimani Romance title, such a success. I deeply appreciate the loyalty of my readers, which I have been so fortunate to enjoy since the publication of my first novel in 1995. Many of you still write to me regularly, and I look forward to hearing from you.

My heroines are usually independent, educated and capable of making their life’s journey a successful one. In Finding Mr. Right, Tyra Cunningham is not an exception. But because her siblings think she needs a man and needs help in finding one, Tyra does a few foolish things, including looking past “Mr. Right,” in order to show her brother and sister that she is capable of finding one. There is a lesson in there, and I hope you catch it. My grandfather used to call it cutting off your nose to spite your face.

Byron is a tribute to those of you African-American men who are great fathers and who put a premium on loving your women and nurturing your children. And he is precisely what Tyra needs.

During 2009, Kimani Arabesque will release reprints of three of my popular Arabesque books, Swept Away, Fools Rush In and Scarlet Woman. All three of these books won national awards. They’ve been out of print for a while, so I hope you will have a chance to read the reissues.

I enjoy receiving mail, so please write me at P.O. Box 45, New York, New York 10044, and send a self-addressed, stamped envelope if you want a reply. My e-mail address is GwynneF@aol.com. Please visit my Web site at www.gwynneforster.com. For business purposes, reach me through my agent, Pattie Steel-Perkins, Steele-Perkins Literary Agency, 26 Island Lane, Canandaigua, New York 14424.

Sincerely yours,

Gwynne Forster

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Tyra Cunningham stood at her bedroom window watching her younger sister, Darlene, drive off for her first day of work as an attorney. The early June breeze was blowing through her hair and drying the tears she hadn’t realized were welling up in her eyes. She’d done it. Nobody would have thought it was possible. With the responsibility she’d taken on for her fifteen-year-old brother and thirteen-year-old sister not to mention herself, she’d produced remarkable results. Her brother, Clark, was a civil engineer working in Baltimore, and her sister had just been hired by one of Frederick, Maryland’s most distinguished law firms. In the meantime, she had managed to educate herself. Of course, she’d had Maggie’s support, but she’d made the important decisions and taken responsibility for the family.

She raced down the stairs and into the breakfast room. Maggie, who had been her parents’ housekeeper before they had died in an accident, indeed, before Tyra’s tenth birthday, sat eating her breakfast. “I feel like celebrating, Maggie. I don’t have to worry about either of them any more. Mom and Dad would have been real proud, and that’s all I ever wanted. I hope you know that I couldn’t have done it without you, though.”

“The Lord always provides. Now, I wish He’d provide you with a man. It’s not a good idea you strolling around here with three decades under your belt and never even looking at a man.”

“I look all the time. I just don’t see any brothers who make me want to go to the trouble.”

“There’s a difference between browsing and looking. When I was your age, I would have been considered too old for marriage, that is, if I’d still been single. When you gon’ have children…after menopause? You young people act like youth is eternal.”

“Oh, Maggie. For the first time in memory, I feel footloose and fancy-free.”

“I know, chile. You’ve had to be a grownup since you were seventeen, and now you feel like you’re seventeen. But take my word for it, that’s not for you.” She refilled her coffee cup. “Tyra, I’m serious. If men want a family, they look for a younger woman. If they fall for you before they think about family, you’re lucky.”

“You know more about this than I do. My one foray into dating wasn’t very good, but I’m still hopeful.”

As she headed up the broad, winding stairs of the house, she was proud that she had not only preserved what her parents, both physicians, left to her and her siblings, but had doubled its value. Their big, white-brick Georgian mansion stood out even among the elegant homes surrounding it. She put on a straw hat and sneakers, got a pair of shears and went out in the back garden to trim the hedges and cut away the dead blooms from daffodils and jonquils before the hot Maryland sun made it unbearable.

Boredom set in almost at once. What was she going to do with the rest of her life? She had a degree in psychology and was qualified to be a psychoanalyst, but she hadn’t pursued a career because she’d been so focused on raising Clark and Darlene.