“Well, well. Look who’s here.”
Tate squinted into the darkness, still not believing that Molly O’Dare, big as life and twice as exasperating, sat in his leather-seated rocker. Without saying anything, he held back the covers so she could climb into bed with him where she belonged.
“Fat chance,” she muttered.
“Then, if you don’t mind me asking, what the hell are you doing in my bedroom at—” he paused to peer at the bedside clock “—two in the morning?”
Molly crossed her beautiful legs and folded her hands. “I’ve got…news, I guess you could say.”
Tate felt the cold kiss of dread at his cheek and a kind of creepy hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. If Molly had news for him, it probably wouldn’t be good…. “Spit it out.”
And that was just what she did. “I’m pregnant, Tate Bravo. Sometime next January, you’re going to be a dad….”
And that was it. Before Tate could collect his wits and stop her, she turned, threw a slim leg up over the sill and slipped out the window the way she had come.
Christine Rimmer
Marrying Molly
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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For those of you who follow the Bravos, here they are, Texas-style!
came to her profession the long way around. Before settling down to write about the magic of romance, she’d been everything from an actress to a phone sales representative to a playwright. Christine is grateful not only for the joy she finds in writing, but for what waits when the day’s work is through: a man she loves, who loves her right back, and the privilege of watching their children grow and change day to day. She lives with her family in Oklahoma. Visit Christine at her new home on the Web at www.christinerimmer.com.
THE BRAVOS: HEROES, HEROINES AND THEIR STORIES
THE NINE-MONTH MARRIAGE (SSE #1148)
—Cash Bravo and Abby Heller
MARRIAGE BY NECESSITY (SSE #1161)
—Nate Bravo and Megan Kane
PRACTICALLY MARRIED (SSE #1174)
—Zach Bravo and Tess DeMarley
MARRIED BY ACCIDENT (SSE #1250)
—Melinda Bravo and Cole Yuma
THE MILLIONAIRE SHE MARRIED (SSE #1322)
—Jenna Bravo and Mack McGarrity
THE M.D. SHE HAD TO MARRY (SSE #1345)
—Lacey Bravo and Logan Severance
THE MARRIAGE AGREEMENT (SSE #1412)
—Marsh Bravo and Tory Winningham
THE BRAVO BILLIONAIRE (Single Title)
—Jonas Bravo and Emma Hewitt
MARRIAGE: OVERBOARD
—Gwen Bravo McMillan and Rafe McMillan
(Weekly Serial at www.eHarlequin.com)
THE MARRIAGE CONSPIRACY (SSE #1423)
—Dekker (Smith) Bravo and Joleen Tilly
HIS EXECUTIVE SWEETHEART (SSE #1485)
—Aaron Bravo and Celia Tuttle
MERCURY RISING (SSE #1496)
—Cade Bravo and Jane Elliott
SCROOGE AND THE SINGLE GIRL (SSE #1509)
—Will Bravo and Jillian Diamond
FIFTY WAYS TO SAY…I’M PREGNANT (SSE #1615)
—Starr Bravo and Beau Tisdale
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
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
“T ate. Wake up, Tate.”
Sound asleep, Tate Bravo heard the taunting whisper. He knew the voice. Molly. Damn her. What right did she have to come creeping into his dreams?
And why so often? Seemed like not a night went by that she didn’t appear to torment him.
“Hey. Pssst. Tate…”
With a groan, Tate pulled a pillow over his head. “Go ’way, Molly,” he muttered, still half-asleep. “Get outta my dreams…”
“Tate Bravo, wake up.”
Tate opened his eyes under the pillow. He blinked. “Molly?” He tossed the pillow away and sat up. The window opposite the foot of the bed was open, letting in the warm wind from outside. And Molly O’Dare sat in the leather-seated rocker in the corner, not far from that open window.
“Huh?” Tate squinted into the darkness, still not quite believing it could really be her. But it was. Molly O’Dare, big as life and twice as exasperating. Even through the shadows, with all her clothes on, he knew the shape of her and couldn’t mistake the wheat-gold gleam to her hair or the velvety curve of her baby-soft cheek. Her perfume came to him on the night breeze; flowers and musk all mingled together in a scent that seemed specifically created to drive a man wild.
Tate indulged in a slow, knowing smile. “Well, well. Look who’s here.” He thought a few things he had the good sense not to say. Things like, Couldn’t stay away, could you? and I knew you’d be back.
But no. He wasn’t going to gloat, at least not out loud. He’d missed having her warm, soft body beside him in bed. Missed it a lot—much more than he ever intended to let her know. Now that she was finally here, he wasn’t doing anything to send her off in a snit.
Keeping his mouth firmly shut, he helpfully held back the covers so she could climb in bed with him where she belonged.
“Fat chance,” she muttered. Her tone was not the least bit lustful.
Irritation borne of frustrated desire sizzled beneath his skin. But he didn’t let her rile him. Not this time. Calm as you please, he gave her a shrug and tucked the blanket back in place. “Then if you don’t mind my asking, what the hell are you doing in my bedroom at—” he paused to peer at the bedside clock “—two in the morning?”
Molly, in a short skirt and a tight-fitting white top that seemed to gleam in the darkness, rocked back in the chair. She crossed those beautiful legs and folded her hands in her lap. “I’ve got…news, I guess you could say.”
Though he was known to be tougher than a basket of snakes, at that moment, Tate Bravo felt the cold kiss of dread at his cheek and a kind of creepy hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. If Molly had news for him, it probably wouldn’t be good.
Tate speared his fingers through his sleep-scrambled hair and let out a low growl of pure suspicion. Why the hell was she here? His best guess, being as how a little hot sex seemed ruled out, was that she must have come up with some new way to rescue the needy—at great expense to the town coffers, of course.
As he had a million times in the past six months, Tate cursed the day Molly managed to get herself elected mayor of his town. It was the women who’d done it. They all hung out at Molly’s beauty shop. When she’d decided to run for mayor, they rallied around her, making it possible for her to claim fifty-four percent of the vote.
If you asked Tate, Molly’s mayorship had been a disaster from the get-go. To Tate’s mind—and to the minds of every other red-blooded businessman and responsible citizen in town—Molly O’Dare had been the worst thing to happen to Tate’s Junction, Texas, since a disgruntled contingent of Comanche warriors on the run from the Oklahoma reservation took over the place for three days back in 1886.
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