Sarah Mayberry - Her Kind of Trouble

It takes one to know one

The moment Vivian Walker spies Seth Anderson she knows they’re a match made in hedonistic pleasure. And they both agree their one night together is all about fun, not forever.

Now, years later, Seth remains a favorite memory. Surely the sizzling chemistry has faded, though, right? Apparently not. Because he’s still sinfully attractive, and she likes the man he is. When he suddenly becomes a full-time dad to his newborn daughter, Vivian falls hard. Yet despite the responsibilities, he’s not a good bet for commitment. And she needs to guard her heart before she gets into trouble!

She’d been courting trouble!

As reluctant as she was to acknowledge it, Vivian had been dancing with the devil tonight. God help her.

She’d been toying with herself, with Seth, with the situation. Enjoying the heat of their chemistry and the spark of their banter and the sheer electric thrill of the potential that always seemed to arc between them.

Wondering what would happen if they got naked again, skin to skin, and if the payoff would be worth the risk.

And Seth had called her bluff. He’d read her signals, interpreted them to suit his own agenda—which, let’s face it, was pretty basic and predictably male and not that different from her own—and gone for it.

She could still feel the echoes of her panic, it had been that strong, that instinctive.

That revealing.

She lifted her head and stared unseeingly out the windshield. It was time to be honest with herself.

She still had a thing for Seth.

Dear Reader,

I hope you can tell I had a lot of fun writing this book. The idea for Vivian and Seth’s story came to me a couple of years ago and a part of me has been anticipating writing about them ever since.

For me, Viv and Seth are the classic case of right person, wrong time. I loved playing with their instinctive recognition of each other, as well as their fiery passionate physical connection. They’re both a bit naughty and irreverent, too, with life ambitions that sit slightly outside the norm. Throw a baby into the mix, and you’ve got a pretty crazy situation for two very independent people to try to wrangle.

Neither of these two are perfect, but they have good hearts and good intentions, and I really enjoyed helping them find their happily ever after. I hope you enjoy them as much as I did! I love to hear from readers, so stop by my website, www.sarahmayberry.com, to drop me a line if you feel the urge. And, if you’d like, add your name to my new-release-newsletter mailing list.

Happy reading,

Sarah Mayberry

Her Kind of Trouble

Sarah Mayberry

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

SARAH MAYBERRYlives by the sea in her hometown of Melbourne, Australia, with her husband and a small black furry Cavoodle called Max. She loves to write, cook, sleep, read and shop for shoes. Not necessarily in that order. She’s about to start a new fitness regimen in the hope of becoming a little less like the Tin Man before Dorothy got busy with the oil can on his rusty joints.

Every book is a journey of discovery, frustration, elation, delusion and determination. I couldn’t get through it without Chris, Max and Wanda.

A big thanks to my lovely writing buddies Marie, Schwartzeputzer, Joan, Mel and the fabulous Melbourne Mob. It’s so nice to know I’m not alone in the madness.

Contents

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 Thirteeen

Chapter Fourteen

Extract

CHAPTER ONE

March 2004

“WELL. WHAT DO you think? Do I still look like an overstuffed silk sausage?”

Vivian Walker winced as her sister spun to face her, the taffeta of her wedding dress rustling. She would never live down the scathing commentary she’d given the day she’d gone dress shopping with her sister. Next time someone asked for her opinion, she needed to engage her edit function first.

“It looks gorgeous,” she said, because it was true and because the big day was tomorrow and there was no way she was critiquing the gown her sister had chosen.

Jodie smoothed a hand over her hip. She’d been dieting like crazy and the classic fit-and-flare dress clung to her curvy figure perfectly, with not a hint of overstuffing. The lace overlay was delicate, the strapless sweetheart neckline flattering, the dove-grey silk belt the perfect accent for her slender waist. She really did look beautiful.

“You don’t think I should have gone with something more modern?” Jodie asked, flicking her long, dark red hair over her shoulders.

“We can dash down to the mall now, see what the rental place has,” Vivian suggested, poker-faced.

“Ha, ha, smarty-pants. That was your cue to tell me that this is the perfect dress, that there isn’t a more perfect dress anywhere in the world, and that I look like a regal, sex-goddess-princess in it, et cetera, et cetera.”

The guilt that had been hovering since her sister unzipped the dress’s garment bag bit hard. Vivian scratched her nose to hide her reaction from her sister.

Was there anything worse in all the world than letting down someone you loved? She’d yet to find it, if there was.

“You look amazing, Jodie. Really, really stunning,” she said, meeting her sister’s eyes.

It wasn’t a lie, not by a long shot, but they both knew that if things had gone according to plan, Jodie would be wearing a dress Vivian had designed. A one-of-a-kind creation that—in theory—would have been the culmination of all the hard work Vivian had put in over the past three years studying clothing design at the Melbourne Fashion Institute.

If only she hadn’t made that stupid, impulsive offer when they’d gone shopping six months ago. If only she’d paused for a second to consider what she’d be taking on before she asked her sister to let her design something. But she’d been so disgusted by the safe, homogenized, boring dresses, and so full of herself after winning praise at a recent exhibition of student work at the institute, the offer—bold, brash, confident—had simply popped out of her mouth.

Jodie’s eyes had lit up on the spot, and she’d done a happy dance around the changing room. “Viv, that would be so fantastic. And I know that whatever you come up with will be my dream dress, because you are so amazingly talented.”

Panic had set in about thirty seconds later. This was her sister’s wedding day. Whatever Vivian came up with needed to be off-the-planet extraordinary. It needed to be the best, most creative, most sublime thing she’d ever designed.

Was it any wonder she’d choked every time she sat down with her sketch pad to try to rough out ideas in the following weeks and months? Was it any wonder she’d made no less than twenty starts on twenty wildly different designs before throwing each and every one of them out? And was it any wonder her sister had finally let her off the hook after three months of unreturned phone calls and excuses, assuring Vivian that she was more than happy to buy a dress off the rack if designing one was proving too difficult?

That Jodie had wound up selecting one of the dresses Vivian had so vehemently critiqued and rejected on their shopping expedition was the icing on the cake of her guilt and discomfort. “What do you think of the veil? I’m still on the fence about whether to wear it over my face, or to do something with it in my hair, or maybe not wear it at all.” Jodie picked up a lace-edged confection of white froth. “I tried all three options when we did the practice run on my hair and makeup, but I still can’t decide.”