Cindy Kirk - The Doctor And Mr. Right

The warm, sweet kiss sent a shower of tingles raining all the way to the tips of her toes.

When it was over she brought two fingers to her lips and tried to remember how to breathe. “What was that for?”

Her voice sounded shaky, even to her own ears.

Gabe cast a pointed glance upward.

Michelle tilted her head back and followed his gaze. Directly over them were a few dark waxy leaves interspersed with white berries. “Mistletoe?”

“I want this evening to be memorable.”

His hands rested on her arms and the heat from his body urged her closer. The scent of his cologne enveloped her and everything—and everyone— around them disappeared until there was only her… and Gabe.

Gabe, the man with the thirteen-year-old daughter.

Dear Reader,

Whenever there’s talk about what makes a man “hero” material, lots of characteristics get bandied around. Handsome, strong, smart, kind, etc, are some of the more common ones. But sometimes we forget about the less obvious ones. What about a man who will step up to the plate and do what needs to be done, one who takes responsibility for his actions?

Gabe, the hero in The Doctor and Mr Right , is that kind of man. When he was little more than a boy himself, he made the sacrifices necessary to be a good father to his daughter. I don’t know about you, but to me there’s nothing more sexy—and endearing—than a man who is a good dad to his child. If he happens to be handsome—and single, of course—he’s even harder to resist!

I really enjoyed writing this book and I hope you enjoy reading it.

Cindy Kirk

CINDY KIRKhas loved to read for as long as she can remember. In first grade she received an award for reading one hundred books. As she grew up, summers were her favorite time of year. Nothing beat going to the library, then coming home and curling up in front of the window air conditioner with a good book. Often the novels she read would spur ideas, and she’d make up her own story (always with a happy ending). When she’d go to bed at night, instead of counting sheep, she’d make up more stories in her head. Since selling her first story in 1999, Cindy has been forced to juggle her love of reading with her passion for creating stories of her own…but she doesn’t mind. Writing for the Mills & Boon ®Cherish ™series is a dream come true. She only hopes you have as much fun reading her books as she has writing them!

Cindy invites you to visit her website, www.cindykirk.com.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To my wonderful editor, Patience Bloom.

Ours continues to be a fabulous—and fun—partnership.

“He did not ask you to do that to him.” Lexi Delacourt’s voice brimmed with laughter.

“He did.” Dr. Michelle Kerns had her fellow book club members in the palm of her hand. It hadn’t a thing to do with the novel they were discussing in a local Jackson Hole coffee shop. When someone mentioned having a problem with the hero in the book using a whip on a horse, Michelle happened to mention Larry’s request.

Larry was a pharmaceutical sales rep from Idaho who she’d been seeing. Until she’d discovered he had a thing for whips. Or more specifically, being whipped.

“What did you say to him?” Mary Karen Fisher rested her arms on the table, her eyes wide. For having five children, the RN could be a bit naive about the kind of men out there.

“First, I picked my jaw up from the floor.” Before continuing, Michelle glanced around to make sure no one at any of the nearby tables was listening. “Next, I told him I wasn’t into flailing men with whips. Then I made it clear that I wasn’t interested in seeing him again.”

“You have the worst luck.” Lexi sighed. “Have you ever just dated a normal guy?”

Even though Michelle had been in Jackson Hole almost two years this was her first book club meeting. She felt as if she’d finally arrived when she received the invitation to join the group. More than a little nervous, Michelle had done a whole lot of talking.

She’d already shared about her high school boyfriend who turned out to prefer guys, the guy in college who’d forgotten to mention he was married and the one back in Saint Louis who’d stalked her. “There were a few normal ones interspersed among the crazies. My ex-husband, Ed, was a normal guy.”

“I didn’t know you’d been married before.” Mary Karen looked at Lexi. “Did you know?”

Lexi shook her head. The other women at the table appeared equally surprised.

“It was when I was in residency in Saint Louis.” Although it had been over three years since her divorce was final, the failure of her marriage still stung. “Didn’t even make it two years.”

“That had to be tough.” Betsy Harcourt covered Michelle’s hand with hers and gave it a squeeze. “What happened? If you don’t mind my asking, that is.”

“Ed was a widower with two middle-school-aged daughters.” Michelle kept her tone matter-of-fact. “The girls resented me. Ed sided with them. It was a difficult situation all the way around.”

That had been a dark period in her life. When she’d married Ed, Michelle had been convinced it would be forever. Her parents had been married thirty-eight years. No one in her family was divorced. Except her. She hadn’t turned her back on the institution. But next time, if there was a next time, she’d look for red flags. Like teenage kids.

“We’ll find you a good man.” July Wahl glanced at her friends and the other women nodded agreement.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m plucking myself out of the dating pool for now.” Michelle experienced a sense of relief just saying the words. “The only one in my life will be Sasha.”

Mary Karen pulled her brows together. “Sasha?”

“It’s her dog.” Lexi spoke in a tone loud enough for all of them to hear.

“Everyone here knows how much I love my Puffy.” A doubtful look filled Betsy’s eyes. “But would you really choose to spend time with Sasha over someone like…that?”

The newlywed pointed out the front window of Hill of Beans to a tall man with broad shoulders and lean hips loading supplies into the back of a red pickup. Thick dark hair brushed the denim collar and faded jeans hugged long muscular legs.

Even though Michelle wasn’t interested, if she were interested, she liked that he was tall. Call her shallow, but she rather enjoyed looking up to a man. And being five-nine, unless she wore flats, there weren’t too many men around like that.

“He’s one fine specimen,” Michelle acknowledged. “At least from the backside.”

The women watched for a few more seconds, but the guy never turned in their direction.

“Who is he?” Mary Karen asked. “Anyone know?”