Cathy Gillen - The Mummy Makeover / Mummy for Hire

“I want you to put your hands on my chest and try to resist me.”

Erica returned Kieran’s smile. “Bet you say that to all the women you know.”

“Just do what you’re told without the commentary.”

She gave him a sharp, one-handed salute. “Yes, sir.”

He balled his fists against his chest. “Grab my hands, angle your body away and don’t let me move.”

“Fine, but don’t expect too much.”

“Keep going,” he demanded. “You’re not using your legs.”

Scowling, she regrouped and tried again, and he continued to prod her. “Push harder. Don’t let me back up. Pretend you’re fending me off because your life depends upon it.”

Erica unexpectedly stopped, straightened. Before Kieran could level his next command, she planted her mouth on his…

“Are you available?”

Alexis blinked. “You mean single?”

“As a potential match.”

“For you?” Her brow rose discreetly as the meaning of his words sank in. “No. I’m not.”

Grady hadn’t got where he was by accepting no for an answer, especially when he wanted something as suddenly as he wanted this. “Sure about that?”

“Matchmakers at ForeverLove.com are not allowed to date clients, Grady.”

“We’re not talking about a date.” Or anything nearly that insignificant. “We’re talking about a match.”

“Same thing. And it’s out of the question.”

“Why?”

“This isn’t business, Grady, or at least it shouldn’t be. It’s your personal life.”

By

By

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Daddy on Demand by Helen R Myers & Déjà You by Lynda Sandoval

A Father for Danny by Janice Carter & Baby Be Mine by Eve Gaddy

The Mummy Makeover by Kristi Gold & Mummy for Hire by Cathy Gillen Thacker

The Pregnant Bride Wore White by Susan Crosby

Sophie’s Secret by Tara Taylor Quinn

Her So-Called Fiancé by Abby Gaines

Diagnosis: Daddy by Gina Wilkins

By

KRISTI GOLDhas always believed that love has remarkable healing powers and feels very fortunate to be able to weave stories of hope and commitment. As a bestselling author, National Readers’ Choice winner and three-time Romance Writers of America RITA ®Award finalist, Kristi’s learned that, although accolades are wonderful, the most cherished rewards come from networking with readers. She can be reached through her website at http://kristigold.com or at kgoldauthor@aol.com.

To my beautiful surrogate grandson, Connor Jarrett, for reminding me of the simple joys a child can bring to your life

Only two things served to relax Kieran O’Brien—great sex and pumping iron. Since he still had several hours before he could leave work, and no special woman in his life right now, he’d have to settle for a weight session in his own private gym adjacent to his office. A sanctuary far away from the distractions and demands that came from owning two premier Houston health clubs, with a third location in the construction stage.

He strode through the club to the familiar sounds of expensive exercise equipment being put to good use, as well as a chorus of greetings from the regulars, several of whom were women he’d personally trained at one time. Some were women who’d wanted more than the standard workout. On the advice of those who’d groomed him to be a preeminent personal trainer, he’d vowed from the beginning not to mix business with pleasure. Not once had he crossed that line.

He’d kept his dating life separate from his professional life, in spite of the occasional temptation. The constant propositions had been one factor in his choice to halt private sessions; the other involved a lack of time. Not to mention a guy could only be so strong.

Kieran had almost reached his refuge across the room when a tug on the back of his T-shirt halted his progress and his plan. He expected a staff member announcing some minor crisis that needed his attention, or a patron inquiring about one of the latest innovations he’d purchased during a recent expansion. Instead, he turned to find a little girl with wide blue eyes and strawberry-blond hair, dressed in a pink jacket, white T-shirt and faded jeans, a denim backpack draped over her thin shoulder. She looked so sweet and innocent, all his irritation over the interruption melted away. Most likely she’d probably wandered from the play area and couldn’t find her way back. A displaced kid he could handle.

“Are you lost, sweetheart?” he asked.

She shook her head and studied the floor. “I’m looking for Mr. O’Brien. Lisa told me he has kind of long dark hair and a lot of muscles and you look like that.”

He quickly ran through a mental list of his employees but couldn’t remember any Lisa. “I’m Mr. O’Brien. What’s your name?”

“Stormy.”

When she nailed him with a determined look, Kieran’s gut told him she probably came by that name honestly. “Is your mom or dad a member?”

“I’m with Lisa and her mom.”

Not a whole lot for Kieran to go on to locate a missing adult. “Who’s Lisa’s mom?”

“Candice Conrad.”

Now that was a name he wouldn’t soon forget. A typical well-heeled, good-looking woman who had too much time on her hands and a disinterested husband, something he’d discovered when she’d hired him two years ago—and the reason he’d resigned from the position less than six months later. Not that his resignation had discouraged her from periodically asking if he’d consider taking her back on. “Do you need help finding Mrs. Conrad, kiddo?” A task he would assign to one of his staff members in order to avoid the overly enthusiastic Candice.

Stormy looked highly insulted. “I know where she is. I want to talk to you about buying training lessons.”

He had to hand it to the kid—she knew what she wanted. And what she wanted was something he couldn’t give her, even if she happened to be old enough to hire a trainer, which she wasn’t.

Determined to let her down easy, Kieran guided her to a round table at the juice bar in the corner, away from the hum of treadmills and the whir of recumbent bikes. After he retrieved a cup of fruit juice and set it before her, he took the seat opposite hers. “How old are you, Stormy?”

She shrugged off her denim backpack and laid it on the table. “I’ll be eleven two weeks before Christmas.” She sent him a toothy grin. “My mom says I was her best present ever.”

Considering her small stature, he would’ve guessed her to be at least two years younger. “You have to be eighteen to have personal-training sessions, but you could join our after-school youth exercise program.”