Leanna Wilson - The Third Kiss

Brooke laughed, unable to believe her ears. Had the Matt Cutter just proposed? Stunned, she shook her head to clear the cobwebs. She started walking to her car. “Goodbye, Mr. Cutter.”

“Wait!” He fell into step with her.

She felt a magnetic pull toward him, as if he were reeling her in. Her skin tightened with awareness and a raw need she didn’t recognize.

She couldn’t give the logical answer that had lodged in her throat. She could only stare up at him. She noted the stern set of his jaw, his generous lower lip that made her want to rise up on tiptoe and kiss him.

She got into her car. He closed the door and rested his hands along the base of the open window. Leaning down, he gave her a grin that made her stomach do somersaults.

“Think about it.”

Dear Reader,

There’s something for everyone in a Silhouette Romance, be it moms (or daughters!) or women who’ve found—or who still seek!—that special man in their lives. Just revel in this month’s diverse offerings as we continue to celebrate Silhouette’s 20th Anniversary.

It’s last stop: STORKVILLE, USA, as Karen Rose Smith winds this adorable series to its dramatic conclusion. A virgin with amnesia finds shelter in the town sheriff’s home, but will she find lasting love with Her Honor-Bound Lawman? New York Times bestselling author Kasey Michaels brings her delightful trilogy THE CHANDLERS REQUEST… to an end with the sparkling bachelor-auction story Raffling Ryan. The Millionaire’s Waitress Wife becomes the latest of THE BRUBAKER BRIDES as Carolyn Zane’s much-loved miniseries continues.

In the second installment of Donna Clayton’s SINGLE DOCTOR DADS, The Doctor’s Medicine Woman holds the key to his adoption of twin Native American boys—and to his guarded heart. The Third Kiss is a charmer from Leanna Wilson—a must-read pretend engagement story! And a one-night marriage that began with “The Wedding March” leads to The Wedding Lullaby in Melissa McClone’s latest offering….

Happy Reading!

Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To Grandpa Glenn, a prince of a father-in-law

Silhouette Romance

Strong, Silent Cowboy #1179

Christmas in July #1197

Lone Star Rancher #1231

His Tomboy Bride #1305

Are You My Daddy? #1331

Babies, Rattles and Cribs…Oh, My! #1378

The Double Heart Ranch #1430

The Third Kiss #1484

Silhouette Books

Fortunes of Texas

The Expectant Secretary

believes nothing is better than dreaming up characters and stories and having readers enjoy them as she does. Leanna is the winner of the National Readers’ Choice Award and Romance Writers of America’s Golden Heart Award. Married to her real-life hero, she lives outside Dallas with their active toddler and newborn. But all the diapers and lullabies haven’t kept her from writing. She’s busy working on her next book, be it a Silhouette Romance, Harlequin Temptation or Harlequin American Romance novel. She enjoys hearing from her readers, so you can write to her c/o: Leanna Wilson, P.O. Box 294227, Lewisville, TX 75029-4277.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

“Do you ever think how much easier life would be if you could find Prince Charming?” Peggy mused, scuffing the sole of her boot on the sidewalk.

“No,” Brooke Watson answered without hesitation. “But I could use a fairy godmother and a little of her magic.” Not to look for a husband, but to find a miracle for one of her troubled young clients. Men, she’d decided many years ago, only complicated her life.

She’d seen too many dysfunctional marriages during her tenure as a child psychologist. Not to mention her own mother’s penchant for collecting husbands the way her young clients collected and traded Pokémon cards.

“I could use some magic to pay off my credit card bills. Ohh, look! Another sale!” Peggy passed a streetlamp and steered Brooke toward Cutter’s Western Wear.

It was the oldest department store in San Antonio, situated along the winding, scenic River Walk. The Cutter family history went all the way back to the Alamo. They graced both the business and society sections of the paper weekly. At least the handsome heir and CEO did. What was his name? Brooke couldn’t recall, nor did she want to remember. She had no use for spoiled rich men. She had better things to do with her time.

“Last stop,” she said, following her friend through the door shaped like a chuck wagon’s tailgate. “Then I need to get back home.”

“And work?” Peggy complained.

It wasn’t just work. She was committed to helping the children placed in her care.

A woman sped past her, knocking into her with a sharp elbow. Brooke shook her head with consternation. Must be some sale, Brooke thought to herself.

Peggy looked over her shoulder, “Maybe you can find some new jeans.”

“What’s wrong with mine?” Brooke asked, glancing down at her faded Wrangler jeans. Some of her patients didn’t even have clothes to call their own. “Took me a few years just to break these in.”

Brooke walked beneath a banner, and a storm of commotion erupted around her. Sirens wailed. A mariachi band kicked into high gear, the trumpets blaring, a drum’s rhythm vibrating in her ears. A band? What the heck was happening?

Brooke faltered but kept moving forward with the surging crowd behind her. A chorus of cheers erupted from the customers packing into the store like sardines. Clapping thundered in her ears, echoing the beat of her heart. She glanced around and noticed vibrant red and yellow balloons clustered together. A wave of balloons tumbled over her with ribbons and tiny bits of paper twirling in the air conditioner’s breeze. Bright crepe paper decorations were strung along the windows and across the ceiling. She blinked against the waterfall of confetti.

What was this, a party? A surprise party? Had the guest of honor arrived behind her? Must be someone famous. Maybe even the head of Cutter Enterprises.

Turning, Brooke searched the crowd but saw no one she recognized. But then, she didn’t keep track of celebrities. Deciding it was time to go home, she searched for Peggy.

Her friend stood a few feet in front of her. She’d dropped her packages at her feet. Her features brightened with surprise and delight. “You did it. You’re the one, Brooke!”

“Did what?” Had she set off some weird shoplifting alarm? She wasn’t carrying any merchandise. Heck, she hadn’t even made it to the rows of boots, Stetsons and jeans. “What’d I do?”