The Baby Consultant

The Baby Consultant
Anne Marie Winston

CRASH COURSE IN BABY CARE 101When Jack Ferris became a father by default, he had an armful of infant and less than half a clue. The high-powered executive desperately needed a "baby consultant," and alluring Frannie Brooks fit the bill. She had a special touch with the child - and with him. Frannie had once loved a man who only wanted her mommy skills - and vowed never again.But Jack made her feel like a sensual, desirable woman for the first time. Yet how could she be sure he truly wanted her…and not just her maternal instincts? Butler County Brides: Three small-town friends bring three of the sexiest, most powerful men to their knees!

She Was Made For Motherhood. (#u9f83f599-4e76-5599-8a87-320e1291b107)Letter to Reader (#ud17c37ff-7c22-5513-93f4-da086e6a5fed)Title Page (#uedbc7fea-b28b-5377-abbe-f25e959c52a8)ANNE MARIE WINSTON (#u3d5e3a95-dbe7-53f9-8c55-49e78d304b8b)Dedication (#u2ccc3f5d-8496-5b10-9984-bbb5c7ef95cf)Chapter One (#uc4d1ae10-9666-5dbf-8014-e85f8fd2506f)Chapter Two (#u091464d0-26d0-5c0b-a0f8-c3954122ad3e)Chapter Three (#u27220782-c531-5ee2-93b6-da0c96996d7d)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)Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)Teaser chapter (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

She Was Made For Motherhood.

The thought didn’t surprise Jack. But what did catch him off guard was the deep longing for this intimate family scene to be his. He watched as Frannie stood near her small fireplace with the baby in her arms. She was looking down into the tiny face, speaking in a quiet, earnest tone.

She loved babies—that was certain—and she seemed to love his baby in particular.

“I wish I could find someone who would care for her like you do while I’m at work.”

“You can’t possibly keep taking her to work with you.”

“I don’t have a choice. Unless you’ve changed your mind about keeping her?”

She hesitated. “I suppose I could keep her until a space in a reputable day-care facility becomes available.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take advantage of you.” At least, not in the baby-sitting department....

Dear Reader,

Welcome to a new year with Silhouette Desire! We begin the year in celebration—it’s the 10th Anniversary of MAN OF THE MONTH! And kicking off the festivities is the incomparable Diana Palmer, with January’s irresistible hero, Simon Hart, in Beloved.

Also launching this month is Desire’s series FORTUNE’S CHILDREN: THE BRIDES. So many of you wrote to us that you loved Silhouette’s series FORTUNE’S CHILDREN—now here’s a whole new branch of the family! Award-winning author Jennifer Greene inaugurates this series with The Honor Bound Groom.

Popular Anne Marie Winston begins BUTLER COUNTY BRIDES, a new miniseries about three small-town friends who find true love, with The Baby Consultant. Sara Orwig offers us a marriage of convenience in The Cowboy’s Seductive Proposal. Next, experience love on a ranch in Hart’s Baby by Christy Lockhart. And opposites attract in The Scandalous Heiress by Kathryn Taylor.

So, indulge yourself in 1999 with Silhouette Desire—powerful, provocative and passionate love stories that speak to today’s multifaceted woman. Each month we offer you six compelling romances to meet your many moods, with heroines you’ll care about and heroes to die for. Silhouette Desire is everything you desire in a romance novel.

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

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The Baby Consultant

Anne Marie Winston

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

ANNE MARIE WINSTON

has believed in happy endings all her life. Having the opportunity to share them with her readers gives her great joy. Anne Marie enjoys figure skating and working in the gardens of her south-central Pennsylvania home.

To Ruth Ann, my “forever friend.”

We’ve shared Barbies and babies,

Harlequins and hospital rooms,

Pregnancies and “pigs.”

Thanks for the wonderful memories.

One

He wasn’t gorgeous, as Dee had led her to believe. His nose looked as if it had been rearranged by someone even bigger than he; his eyes were an unremarkable gray. Clean shaven and well-defined, his jaw thrust forward just a shade shy of pugnacious while his light brown, almost-but-not-quite-blond hair was cut military-short along the sides, curling only at the top where it had escaped the razor’s forays.

Still, she could see the appeal. She studied him as he spoke into the phone he held to his ear while he paced back and forth at the far end of his office. His shoulders were broad enough to set a tea service on. He was taller than any of her brothers, maybe six-one, with long, long legs and a wide, straight back that tapered to a trim waist. And his butt was to die for. She almost laughed aloud. She would never have thought of that phrase before she’d moved away from home and found a life of her own.

Then he turned and smiled at her.

Frannie set down her purse and briefcase and took a seat in the chair across from Jack Ferris’s desk. Actually, she had no choice. That smile virtually took her breath away, weakened her knees, made her heart pound—every stupid cliché she’d ever heard suddenly didn’t seem so stupid.

Dee had warned her: “Women fight over him. Literally.”

Unbelievable. One little shift of expression, one flash of white teeth and a penetrating personal moment of eye contact... she’d probably fetch his slippers and pipe if he smiled at her like that again.

“He’ll be with you in a moment.” The receptionist with the disgustingly gorgeous figure and the perfect teeth smiled sweetly at Frannie before closing the door of the office. It figured. She would have bet good green bucks that this man would hire help that looked like something out of a sports magazine’s annual swimsuit issue. It would have been easy to hate her if she hadn’t been so nice.

He was still talking on the telephone, one hand splayed across his hip in what looked like exasperation. “I said I’m sorry, Mona. I have a game that day or you know I’d love to take you.” His voice oozed smooth honey, but Frannie doubted that Mona would think he was so charming if she could see the way he was practically gritting his teeth. It was obvious he didn’t want to do whatever the woman at the other end was trying to rope him into.

Deliberately trying not to eavesdrop, she pulled her briefcase onto her lap and extracted the portfolio of her work she’d brought along. Flipping it open, she forgot about Jack Ferris and his famous charm. With a critical eye, she studied the photos of some of the wedding dresses she’d made. That cream satin one had such nice pearl work and embroidered detail on the bodice—she should have taken a shot from the front as well as the back. The ruffled Chantilly lace on the chapel-length train was gorgeous, if she did say so herself. And the Victorian...not her style, but it had looked lovely on the girl for whom she’d made it, with its leg-o’-mutton sleeves. The girl had pinned her hair up loosely and forsaken a veil for a stately plumed hat Frannie had suggested, which should have looked ridiculous but didn’t. And here was that darling silk sheath with a yoke of alençon lace. She’d enjoyed making that one. But perhaps she should have brought all traditional styles along. That was what most brides wanted, she’d discovered, and if she was considering placing some of them in a brochure—oh, bother. Wasn’t that why she was here? So this highly recommended ad agency could tell her what would be best?

As she shuffled through the photos again, the telephone’s small beep told her that the consultant was off the phone.

“Miss Brooks. I apologize for the delay. I’m Jack Ferris.” He advanced across the room with three long strides, hand outstretched and that intimate smile projected full blast at her.

It was impossible not to respond. She half rose to meet his outstretched hand—and then made a futile grab for the photos, which slipped and spilled all over the floor.

“Oh, dear.” She knelt to retrieve her photos. Jack Ferris did the same, and their knees bumped. Her head was inches from his chin, and she caught a whiff of clean male scent. Frannie quickly moved away. She felt as if the air grew syrup thick and heavy, making it hard to breathe this close to him.

In a moment everything had been gathered up and Frannie couldn’t avoid looking at him, on his knees on the carpet, face-to-face with her. Time froze as she met his gaze again. She didn’t know how he did it, but he made her stomach positively quiver when he was so near.

But it wouldn’t do to let him see he affected her. She suspected he was used to women falling at his feet and she had no intention of encouraging him.

Summoning a wry smile, she extended her hand again. “Thank you, Mr. Ferris. Let’s try this again.”