Patricia Coughlin - The Cupcake Queen

“Sorry,” Owen said. “I’d like to return the compliment, but no dice. You’re just not the mud type. Let me help you get it off.”

“No, I don’t want your help.”

“Too bad, because I really want to do it.”

It was a primitive form of play, as old as man, as enticing as woman. Winding his hand through her long, wet hair, Owen tugged just hard enough to let her know he could.

Olivia let him draw her back until her gaze met his, only inches separating them. And in that small space where their breath meshed, the air was hot enough to turn the rain to steam….

Dear Reader,

Spring is a time for new beginnings. And as you step out to enjoy the spring sunshine, I’d like to introduce a new author to Silhouette Special Edition. Her name is Judy Duarte, and her novel Cowboy Courage tells the heartwarming story of a runaway heiress who finds shelter in the strong arms of a handsome—yet guarded—cowboy. Don’t miss this brilliant debut!

Next, we have the new installment in Susan Mallery’s DESERT ROGUES miniseries. In The Sheik & the Virgin Princess, a beautiful princess goes in search of her long-lost royal father, and on her quest falls in love with her heart-meltingly gorgeous bodyguard! And love proves to be the irresistible icing in this adorable tale by Patricia Coughlin, The Cupcake Queen. Here, a lovable heroine turns her hero’s life into a virtual beehive. But Cupid’s arrow does get the final—er—sting!

I’m delighted to bring you Crystal Green’s His Arch Enemy’s Daughter, the next story in her poignant miniseries KANE’S CROSSING. When a rugged sheriff falls for the wrong woman, he has to choose between revenge and love. Add to the month Pat Warren’s exciting new two-in-one, My Very Own Millionaire— two fabulous romances in one novel about confirmed bachelors who finally find the women of their dreams! Lastly, there is no shortage of gripping emotion (or tears!) in Lois Faye Dyer’s Cattleman’s Bride-To-Be, where long-lost lovers must reunite to save the life of a little girl. As they fight the medical odds, this hero and heroine find that passion—and soul-searing love—never die….

I’m so happy to present these first fruits of spring. I hope you enjoy this month’s lineup and come back for next month’s moving stories about life, love and family!

Best,

Karen Taylor Richman

Senior Editor

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Amy Mullervy,

with gratitude

is a troubling combination of hopeless romantic and dedicated dreamer. Troubling, that is, for anyone hoping to drag her back to the “real world” when she is in the midst of writing a book. Close family and friends have learned to coexist peacefully with the latest cast of characters in her head. The author of more than twenty-five novels, she has received special recognition from Publishers Weekly and Romantic Times. Her work also earned her numerous awards, including the prestigious RITA from Romance Writers of America. Ms. Coughlin lives in Rhode Island, a place very conducive to daydreaming.

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

O livia hated to lose. To be truthful, it went beyond hate. She abhorred losing, to anyone, under any circumstances, but she especially loathed being bested by one of her four older and frequently infuriating brothers.

Together, they had seen to it that she learned to think fast and stand her ground at a very young age. Now twenty-four, she no longer had to dodge water balloons or check for reptiles before climbing into bed, but their propensity for teasing and practical jokes persisted, and she was adept at deflecting, countering or ignoring their efforts as the situation warranted. Sometimes she even enjoyed the challenge, and she dearly loved her brothers. She just flat-out refused to lose a wager to one of them…particularly as ridiculous a wager as the one she’d allowed herself to be roped into this time.

Olivia winced just thinking about it. If Brad had challenged her privately, she would have found some way to resist the bait. But no, her brother had tossed down the gauntlet in the middle of the Historical Association’s annual ball, in front of dozens of amused witnesses. In Baltimore society, it didn’t get any more public than that. She’d had no choice but to accept the challenge on the spot, and now pride and her own mulish nature demanded she follow through. Precisely as Brad had anticipated when he set her up, she thought with chagrin.

Pride and pigheadedness. The combination had landed her in a tight spot on more occasions than she cared to recall. But this time she’d even outdone herself. This time she was scaling new heights of absurdity. There certainly was no sane explanation for crawling out of bed at what she deemed the crack of dawn on this brisk October morning, to drive to some godforsaken little town in the backwoods of upstate New York.

She kicked the large suitcase by her side.

“Ouch.”

It was packed solid. So solid she’d had to jump up and down on it before she could close the zipper. The “Rules According to Brad” limited her to one suitcase. That presented a formidable challenge to a woman who required a minimum of two bags for a weekend jaunt, and in the end she’d resorted to cheating by wearing everything she couldn’t stuff into the suitcase.

There was a reason the layered look went out of style, she reflected, squirming uncomfortably inside a turtleneck jersey, denim shirt and three sweaters. She didn’t even want to think about how she must look. Not that it was likely to matter much where she was headed. For all she knew, the layered look was still the rage in Danby.

She reached for the oversize tote bag which she defied Brad to call a second suitcase and was rummaging through it for a map when her mother joined her in the foyer of Twin Brooks, the grand Georgian-style mansion that had been home to the Ashfields for nearly a century.

“What time do you expect Bradford?” Helen Ashfield asked her youngest, and most exasperating, child.

“I told him I was leaving at ten sharp and he’s supposed to be here to see me off. Which gives him—” Olivia glanced at her watch “—five minutes. Damn, why didn’t I think to stipulate that if he isn’t here on time, he forfeits?”

“Perhaps because you were too busy making a spectacle of yourself, throwing arrows…”

“I think you mean darts.”

“Of course, darts,” her mother conceded, oozing disapproval. “That makes it infinitely more dignified than tossing arrows at a map stuck to the wall of the Continental Ballroom.”

Olivia shrugged. “It seemed the most logical way to choose a destination under the circumstances.”

“Logical? Logical? There is not one scintilla of logic in this latest…escapade that you and your brother have cooked up.” She sighed. “I thought Bradford had more sense.”

“Well, he doesn’t.” It did not escape Olivia that her mother had not said that she thought she had more sense.