Forever Flint

Forever Flint
Barbara Boswell

MEN of the YEAR MAN of the Month "If you're pregnant, we're getting married!" -Flint Paradise, CEO and surprised father-to-be After a single night of passion put Ashlinn Carey in the family way, millionaire businessman Flint Paradise acquired a very stubborn, pregnant bride. Ashlinn made it clear that unless his shotgun vows included loving and cherishing their baby, it wouldn't be a warm, willing wife he'd come home to.But the rugged loner didn't know the first thing about loving anyone . And with the sexiest woman he'd ever seen expecting his child, Flint wasn't about to wait nine months to start learning… . Some men are made for lovin' - and you'll love our MAN OF THE MONTH!

When The Stick Turned Blue, October’s Man Of The Month Turned White! (#u63fd2a90-2c14-5756-a60c-c025852bace7)Letter to Reader (#u8ae333e3-13b9-5a61-8051-496390adcc77)Title Page (#u6757bd6d-e06f-545d-91f7-09005b0856f3)About the Author (#uc4b1c38a-3152-5451-87d5-07b66fe6a221)Chapter One (#ua3f7080b-4bf1-52fc-b218-cd68c9811035)Chapter Two (#u4b8f42a7-ee56-51c1-8e79-f2826f62337e)Chapter Three (#u26a6551e-4387-53ac-8aca-ea8c15ffab3a)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

When The Stick Turned Blue, October’s Man Of The Month Turned White!

Flint had just conceded that coming to New York after Ashlinn had been a mistake when the bright blue-and-white box in her bathroom’s trash can caught his eye. The words printed on the box seemed to leap into Flint’s line of vision: Pregnancy Test. To burn into his consciousness. Nothing could have prevented him from picking up that box. From reading every word on it.

He heard a small gasp and looked up to see Ashlinn standing a few feet away, wearing old ripped jeans and a faded Yankees baseball shirt.

Flint spotted the plastic stick with the test result and snatched it up. “Congratulations. According to this, you’re going to be a mother. When were you going to tell me?”

Dear Reader,

Welcome to Silhouette Desire—where you’re guaranteed powerful, passionate and provocative love stones that feature rugged heroes and spirited heroines who experience the full emotional intensity of falling in love!

This October you’ll love our new MAN OF THE MONTH title by Barbara Boswell, Forever Flint Opposites attract when a city girl becomes the pregnant bride of a millionaire outdoorsman.

Be sure to “rope in” the next installment of the exciting Desire miniseries TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB with Billionaire Bridegroom by Peggy Moreland. When cattle baron Forrest Cunningham wants to wed childhood friend Becky Sullivan, she puts his love to an unexpected test.

The always-wonderful Jennifer Greene returns to Desire with her magical series HAPPILY EVER AFTER Kiss Your Prince Charming is a modern fairy tale starring an unforgettable “frog prince ” In a sexy battle-of-the-sexes tale, Lass Small offers you The Catch of Texas. Anne Eames continues her popular miniseries MONTANA MALONES with The Unknown Malone And Shen WhiteFeather makes her explosive Desire debut with Warrior’s Baby, a story of surrogate motherhood with a twist.

Next month, you’ll really feel the power of the passion when you see our new provocative cover design Underneath our new covers, you will still find six exhilarating journeys into the seductive world of romance, with a guaranteed happy ending!

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

Please address questions and book requests to

Silhouette Reader Service

U S 3010 Walden Ave, P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

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Forever Flint

Barbara Boswell

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

BARBARA BOSWELL

loves writing about families. “I guess family has been a big influence on my writing,” she says. “I particularly enjoy writing about how my characters’ family relationships affect them.”

When Barbara isn’t writing and reading, she’s spending time with her own family—her husband, three daughters and three cats, whom she concedes are the true bosses of their home! She has lived in Europe, but now makes her home in Pennsylvania. She collects miniatures and holiday ornaments, tries to avoid exercise and has somehow found the time to write over twenty category romances.

One

“I was told to look for the Paradise Outdoors sign at the gate. I’m Ash. . .”

“You’re Asher Carey?” Flint Paradise stared at the dark-haired, dark-eyed young woman standing before him and the sign he held, Paradise Outdoors, spelled out in bold black letters.

“Ihat can’t be right,” he replied to his own question.

Asher was definitely a male name, wasn’t it? Of course, these days, who knew? But she had to be in her twenties, and in the decade she’d been born in, parents had sensibly reserved masculine names for boys. Hadn’t they?

“No, my name is Ashlinn and. . .”

“I figured you weren’t Asher Carey.” Flint was relieved. It was imperative that she not be. He was here at the Sioux Falls airport to meet the flight of Asher Carey, the writer for Tour & Travel magazine, the male writer booked for the two-week Paradise Outdoors Company expedition.

“I’m from Tour & Travel magazine in New York, here for the Paradise Outdoors expedition,” she interjected.

This couldn’t be! Flint urgently flipped through the papers affixed to his clipboard. The name Asher Carey headed one sheet.

“See, here it is. Asher.” Flint showed her the paper, pointing at the name. “He’s the one booked on the trip.”

“Yes, it does say Asher,” Ashlinn Carey conceded with a shrug. “Maybe it’s a typo or something. I can show you all kinds of ID proving that I’m Ashlinn Carey and that I am with Tour & Travel. If you’d care to call the publisher, he will assure you this assignment is all mine.”

She appeared unflappable. No wonder. She considered the mixup to be a minor error. A typo! It was so much more than that, Flint decided grimly. What they were facing was a catastrophic case of mistaken identity. For not only was Ashlinn Carey a woman, she was a very pretty woman—and by the looks of her, a hip urban type who would be about as comfortable in the wild as a buffalo would be in a New York City magazine office.

And he was supposed to take her and four men besides himself camping in the Black Hills of Custer State Park for two weeks? Two weeks in the outdoors with an out-of-her-element city girl? Who looked. . . delicious, even after a long flight complete with layovers in two airports? Flint half expected his life to flash before his eyes, like a drowning victim going down for the last time.

The two stood facing each other.

“I don’t know how something like this could have happened,” Flint growled as he permitted himself another covert perusal of her, noting every one of her attributes.

There were many. Thick shiny hair, almost jet-black in color, sleek and straight and shoulder length. Wide-set coffee-brown eyes framed by dark lashes and brows. Good features, good face. He guessed that she’d never gone through an awkward, unattractive stage in her life. His kid sister Eva had been like that—adorable baby, darling kid, cute teen and, ultimately, pretty woman. But no further references to Eva applied, because the fierce jolt of arousal that suddenly struck him as he stared at Ashlinn Carey had nothing to do with brotherly admiration and everything to do with. . .well, arousal. Attraction. If he believed in the schoolboy fantasy of lust at first sight—which he didn’t, of course—it probably would feel a lot like this.

Flint tried to divert his unexpected attack of desire by redirecting his thoughts to something else. Something suitably distracting. He conjured up quick mental images of his teenaged half sisters, Camryn and Kaylin, who could always be counted on to infuriate him. But the mental trick didn’t work; the girls’ powers of annoyance faded in comparison to Ashlinn Carey’s considerable sensual draw.

He continued to gaze at her. The burgundy lipstick she wore looked freshly applied, perhaps moments before the plane had landed. The color accentuated the full, fine shape of her lips. She was wearing a one-piece black jersey outfit and a pair of ultra-fashionable black boots that added a few inches to her height. Still, at nearly six-four, he was considerably taller than she.

“You’re supposed to be a guy,” he said hoarsely.

How he wished she were! Barring that, it would’ve helped a lot if she didn’t have such an eye-popping figure, if she were one of those unappealing living toothpicks currently showcased in ads. Instead, Ashlinn Carey was soft and curvy in all the right places and projected a sultry allure without even trying. His skin felt uncomfortably warm, his entire body taut.

Ashlinn surveyed him coolly. “Well, I’m not a guy, am I? Are you Sam Carmody?”

“No.”

“You’re supposed to be.”

Flint assumed she was needling him with her argument about his identity, since he’d just done the same thing to her “I guess I had that coming,” he grumbled.