Dawn Atkins - Wedding For One - Wedding For One / Tattoo For Two

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

Duets Vol. #91

Talented Dawn Atkins serves up not one but two delightful stories in a special Double Duets. Wedding for One and Tattoo for Two are about two bad girls—and buddies—who come home again. Mariah hooks up with the sexy Mr. Right she left at the altar eight years before. Meantime Nikki shows up with a fake fiancé whose kisses are a little too real at times! Chaos ensues as these two girls set things right.

Duets Vol. #92

Versatile Natalie Bishop returns to the series this month with the quirky Love on Line One! “Ms. Bishop writes with a sizzling intensity…spirit and depth,” says Romantic Times. Completing the volume is popular Holly Jacobs and Not Precisely Pregnant. Bestselling author Lori Foster notes that “every Holly Jacobs book will leave you with a laugh and a happy sigh.” Enjoy!

Be sure to pick up both Duets volumes today!

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Wedding for One Wedding for One

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Tattoo for Two

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Nathan’s voice startled her, making her almost lose her grip on the ladder. “I’m…fixing…this valve.”

“Don’t do that!” He grabbed the ladder, making it wobble. Then she did lose her grip, and suddenly she plopped into a pool of red jelly.

“Are you okay?” He looked down at her.

“I’m fine. Sticky, but fine.”

“Give me your hand and I’ll get you out.”

She reached up to grasp his hand, but the jelly made her hand slip out of his and pulled him partially over the edge of the drum.

Hmm. Not a bad idea. This could be fun.

She reached up, looking innocent. “Let’s try again. Lean over and give me both hands.” Mariah gripped his hands, and levered as hard as she could….

Nathan teetered for a second, then slid down and thumped into the gelatinous pool.

“Come on in, the jelly’s fine.” She laughed and met his gaze. But instead of seeing anger there, she saw attraction, heat…desire.

A sexy smile spread across his face. “So, Mariah, you up for some jelly wrestling?”

Dear Reader,

Exploring the theme of these two comedies—bad girls go home—was both fun and emotionally satisfying for me. Rebellion and conformity, success and self-acceptance, and the importance of friendship are threads that run through both stories.

Mariah and Nikki go for it—heading off to live authentic lives. Two girls against the world. Of course, no one is truly “free to be” in life, and both girls have regrets and doubts. As their stories unfold and they fall in love, they both see themselves with new pride and self-acceptance.

Wedding for One is a story about the one who got away. It’s heartbreaking when Mr. Right slips through our fingers. That’s why it was such a delight to help Nathan and Mariah fall in love all over again eight years after their disastrous almost-wedding.

The operation of Cactus Confections is based on information I obtained from two Arizona-based candy companies—Ceretta’s Chocolate Factory in Glendale and Cheri’s in Tucson, which produces prickly pear cactus candies, jellies and even a prickly pear margarita mix like the one Mariah dreams up and her father invents.

I hope you enjoy Mariah’s and Nikki’s stories.

Best,

Dawn Atkins

P.S. Please let me know what you think. Write me at daphnedawn@aol.com.

HARLEQUIN DUETS

77—ANCHOR THAT MAN!

HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION

871—THE COWBOY FLING

895—LIPSTICK ON HIS COLLAR

To Wanda, my remarkable editor,

who knew this story before I told it

Eight years ago

“OUCH. JEEZ. When I said, ‘Somebody pinch me,’ I didn’t mean to really do it,” Mariah Monroe said.

“I’m just trying to do whatever you want on your special day,” her mother Meredith said, fluffing the frothy wedding veil. “There! Perfect.” She surveyed Mariah in the full-length mirror. “Now, aren’t you glad we didn’t go with that terrible fuchsia mini-dress?”

“It had lace,” she said in her own defense.

“And fishnet. Please.”

“Whatever.” For once, though, Mariah agreed with her mother. This was better. She looked like she’d floated off the cover of Today’s Bride, and she felt like a princess. Teardrop pearls extended on slender wires from her headpiece, exquisite sequin-dotted lace scallops made a graceful beeline to her cleavage, and yards and yards and yards of satin billowed to the toes of her white satin pumps.

She’d considered hand-painting the dress and creating a papier-mâché flower bouquet, but decided to go traditional for Nathan, who was such a straight-arrow guy. She still couldn’t believe he’d chosen her. For the first time in her seventeen years, she felt like she fit in, instead of being kooky and contrary and just plain weird.

At the same time, she felt uneasy, as if she’d disappeared, been replaced by an actress—I’m not a bride, but I play one on TV—or a store mannequin, or a collectible doll ready for a display case. She ignored the feeling. This would all be worth it because in the end she’d have Nathan Goodman, who loved her, and they’d live happily ever after.

Abruptly, her mother stopped fussing with Mariah’s curls, which she’d pomaded into submission a few minutes before, placed a hand on each of her daughter’s temples and looked Mariah straight in her reflected eye. This was serious.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of, sweetie. Some of the best marriages start out with a Pop Tart already in the toaster.”

“A what?”

“I’m your mother. You can tell me.” Her hands dropped to squeeze Mariah’s shoulders in sympathy.

A chill raced down Mariah’s satin-bound spine all the way to her pink-polished toes. “What is it you think I have to tell you?”

The answer began to trickle into Mariah’s brain at the same time the color drained from her face beneath the chichi makeup her mother had insisted on. In the mirror she looked like a ghost bride.

“Nathan will make a wonderful father. And he thinks you hung the sun.”

Hung the moon, she wanted to correct. Instead she stuck to the terrible thing her mother was saying. “What are you talking about?”

“Honey,” her mother said in a tone that said Mariah was stretching a joke past credulity, “I know you’re pregnant.”

“Where did you get that idea?” Mariah realized the answer before her mother gave it.

“That blue box on your dresser. I wasn’t snooping—I know you hate me going in your room—but it said ‘pregnancy test’ really big, so I couldn’t help but be curious.”

“That was a joke I bought for Rhonda to freak out her boyfriend.”

“Pregnancy is nothing to joke about, Mariah,” her mother chided. Then she frowned. “Wait. You mean you’re not pregnant?”

“No!”

“Oh, dear.” Meredith’s brows lifted in alarm, then lowered. “Well, it’ll still be okay.”