Wendy Etherington - Can't Help Falling In Love

Two brand-new stories in every volume…twice a month!

Duets Vol. #93

Wendy Etherington is back with a fun, fiery Double Duets about the crazy Kimballs of Baxter, Georgia. These characters create sparks—and trouble—wherever they go! This author made “an impressive debut with My Place or Yours?, a beautifully written story featuring a scrumptious hero,” says Romantic Times. Enjoy!

Duets Vol. #94

Dorien Kelly kicks off the month with The Girl Least Likely To…, a quirky story about a heroine nicknamed Horrible Hallie, who’s determined to change her reputation. Look for Dorien’s linked Temptation novel in April 2003—#922 The Girl Most Likely To…Sharing the volume this month is Intrigue author Delores Fossen and the delightful The Deputy Gets Her Man. Heroine Rayanne will do anything to get her Aunt Evie out of jail—but could she really date the arresting sheriff?

Be sure to pick up both Duets volumes today!

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

Can’t Help Falling in Love Can’t Help Falling in Love

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Hunka Hunka Burnin’ Love

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Skyler glanced down from the tree at the crowd gathered below and frowned. They thought she wanted to do herself in! From an oak tree? She pointed at Fluffy. “I’m just getting a cat.” And she was stuck. “Stupid Fluffy,” she muttered.

“Name’s Jack, not Fluffy.” Skyler jerked her head at the sound of the deep, sensuous voice and promptly bopped her head on a thick branch.

“Hold tight,” he said, reaching his strong arms around her. “I’m tryin’ to impress my captain.”

Skyler blinked. Of course. The new firefighter her brother had mentioned last week. Another hero. But she couldn’t deny the flutter in her heart as he held her waist snugly and his bold gaze slid down her body.

When they reached the safety of the ground, Skyler gaped up at her gorgeous savior’s rugged, muscular body. Way up. There was just so darn much of him to absorb! All that…man. Whoa, baby!

He grasped her shoulder, as if to steady her. “Are you okay?”

Light-headed, she nodded slowly, the park starting to spin around her. Why me? was her last thought as she fainted dead away.

Dear Reader,

When I first conceived this book, the tragic events of September 11, 2001 had not yet occurred. But as I finished the story, what was foremost in my mind was the theme I started with: heroism. For a romance writer, fictional heroes are our everyday companions and beloved creations. But watching firefighters in Washington and New York, I realized just how real heroes can be.

While these stories are humorous, please have no doubt how seriously I take the issues these characters would face in real life. Local firefighters and police protect my community, just as they protect countless neighborhoods across this country. Find time for these heroes. Support them. Remember them.

Wendy Etherington

P.S. Please come visit my Web site at www.wendyetherington.com or write to me at P.O. Box 211663 Columbia, SC, 29221-1663.

HARLEQUIN DUETS

76—MY PLACE OR YOURS?

To the firefighters and law enforcement personnel who fought and lost their lives in the tragedy of September 11, 2001.

Special thanks to Russ Adams, firefighter/paramedic with the Chesterfield Fire Protection District, for his patient answers to my constant—and sometimes ridiculous—questions.

Thanks also to Jacquie D’Alessandro and Jenni Grizzle, who always have an opinion—and almost always good ones. And thanks to my editor, Susan Pezzack, for her terrific brainstorming skills and her great sense of direction.

SKYLER KIMBALL clutched the broad oak tree branch just above her head, stretching her other hand to her nemesis. “Give me a break, Fluffy.”

Fluffy, the copper-colored, not-quite-pure-bred Persian sitting barely five feet away, merely blinked her topaz eyes.

“What did you expect, Sky?” she admonished herself. “After two and a half hours of perching in the tree, the animal was just going to fall into your arms? Life’s not that easy.” Certainly not her life.

“I called the fire department, Skyler honey,” Fluffy’s owner, Roland, called up to her.

“Uh…” Skyler’s hand slipped. She hugged the tree trunk as panic bloomed in her chest. “That’s not—I mean, maybe we’re jumping the gun here, Roland,” she yelled down, peering through the thick branches.

Roland Patterson, the owner of the pet store located next to her women’s clothing shop, smiled wide, his pale brown eyes twinkling, even from a distance.

And she immediately knew the significance of calling the fire department was not lost on her neighbor. He had a thing for the fire department. Specifically for firemen.

For nearly two years, she and Roland had owned businesses on Main Street in her hometown of Baxter, Georgia. Generous loan terms provided by the city council had given them—along with the bakery, the gym and the florist—opportunities to become part of the city’s recent downtown expansion. Skyler loved the independence her shop, Kimball Fashions, had given her, though her protective brothers had argued each and every point of the contract she’d signed.

Brothers who, she reminded herself, would be arriving at any moment with the flamboyant siren, lights and hoopla of the Baxter Fire Department.

She looked heavenward. “Please don’t let them bring the ladder truck…please don’t let them bring the ladder truck.”

The image of her climbing down that long, shaky ladder, with half of downtown staring up her flowery sundress and gossiping about the risqué lingerie no one would have imagined she wore, spurred her to action. She climbed a few branches higher. “Come on, Fluffy,” she implored, holding out her hand to the stubborn cat.

Fluffy proceeded to wash her already pristine paw.

The possibility of some panicked individual—Roland came to mind—calling the fire department for such a simple, and clichéd, task as a cat in a tree was the reason she’d scaled the giant oak in the first place. She could handle any crisis. And without her brothers’ help. Certainly Fluffy’s sudden penchant to spend the afternoon in the park.

In the distance, she heard the peal of a siren. Yeah, right.