Resolved To

Resolved To
Carole Buck

FIT TO BE TIED - UP!Lucy Falco couldn't believe her luck. First, her former husband, Christopher Banks, waylaid her at the office on New Year's Eve - asking for another chance. Then, before she could turn him down flat, a trio of inept thieves burst in, tied the pair together… and left them in a storage room. READY TO RE-WED? And that room started to get very, very hot. Chris's still-enticing body was pressed oh, so close to Lucy's, and the heroic way he'd tried to rescue her was quite impressive. Soon Lucy began to wonder if it was time to reconsider their marriage's end. So what was Chris to her? Her best chance for a cute date for New Year's Eve… or was he her man for always?HOLIDAY HONEYMOONS: Because when you combine holidays with weddings, something magical happens!

The HOLIDAY HONEYMOON fun continues this month, when Gulliver’s Travels employee LUCY FALCO rekindles the flame with CHRISTOPHER BANKS. (#u74f0ed44-322d-57c7-abcd-578f902cb393)Praise (#ub34350dc-db87-509e-8d47-2ddc7b051620)Letter to Reader (#ued4c7120-21c2-5c70-b3ea-e9a7144274a9)Title Page (#u4c45daf0-ff05-5985-bea8-c46ff35112fc)About the Author (#ucd74cdc1-0fde-5989-bfc3-5f2fb8da28b8)Prologue (#ua83094bf-a654-5189-adbe-36ee506c3d2a)Chapter One (#ue0e9a5d2-fbb1-51d7-a4b7-4a4c8be6aef9)Chapter Two (#ud6cc0ed2-00c1-5815-adcd-215696127fed)Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)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)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

The HOLIDAY HONEYMOON fun continues this month, when Gulliver’s Travels employee LUCY FALCO rekindles the flame with CHRISTOPHER BANKS.

So if you loved the earlier HOLIDAY HONEYMOON books—or even if you missed them—you’re sure to enjoy this sensuous, fun-filled romance by award-winning author Carole Buck.

Praise for Carole Buck’s earlier Desire miniseries WEDDING BELLES...

“...In Annie Says I Do...readers will appreciate how Ms. Buck skillfully turns a lifelong friendship into a passionate love affair.”

“...Peachy’s Proposal [is] a scrumptious confection of a delight... Ms. Buck...creates a keeper for your bookshelf.”

“[In]...Zoe and the Best Man...Ms. Buck gifts us with a clever, witty love story with oodles of warm sensuality and touching emotion.”

—Melinda Helfer, Romantic Times

Dear Reader,

Welcome to a wonderful new year at Silhouette Desire! Let’s start with a delightfully humorous MAN OF THE MONTH by Lass Small—The Coffeepot Inn. Here, a sinfully sexy hero is tempted by a virtuous woman. He’s determined to protect her from becoming the prey of the local men—and he’s determined to win her for himself!

The HOLIDAY HONEYMOONS miniseries continues this month with Resolved To (Re)Marry by Carole Buck. Don’t miss this latest installment of this delightful continuity series!

And the always wonderful Jennifer Greene continues her STANFORD SISTERS series with Bachelor Mom. As many of you know, Jennifer is an award winner, and this book shows why she is so popular with readers and critics alike!

Completing the month are a new love story from the sizzling pen of Beverly Barton, The Tender Trap

a delightful Western from Pamela Macaluso, The Loneliest Cowboy; and something a little bit different from Ashley Summers, On Wings of Love.

Enjoy!

Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325. Buffalo. NY 14269 Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont L2A 5X3

Resolved To (Re) Marry

Carole Buck

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

CAROLE BUCK

is a television news writer and movie reviewer who lives in Atlanta. She is single and her hobbies include cake decorating, ballet and traveling. She collects frogs, but does not kiss them. Carole says she’s in love with life; she hopes the books she writes reflect this.

Prologue

It was the final night of December, and the former Lucia Annette Falco and her new husband, Christopher Dodson Banks, were too intoxicated to fully understand what they were doing.

Their euphoric deficit of comprehension had nothing to do with alcohol. The only liquor either of them had imbibed on this New Year’s Eve was a few pro forma sips of champagne at their wedding reception. If they’d been tested, they would have registered stone-cold sober.

So why were Chris’s normally steady limbs as wobbly as a wino’s as he stood in the center of the hotel suite where he intended to consummate the marriage vows he’d uttered with such solemnity earlier that evening?

And why was Lucy feeling as giggly and giddy as a prom queen at a frat-house keg party as she anticipated doing exactly the same thing?

To put it simply—or not so simply, as things turned out—the newly wed Mr. and Mrs. Banks were drunk with love.

And dreams.

His dreams about her.

Her dreams about him.

Their dreams ... about themselves and their future together.

The fact that only a few of these dreams had been clearly articulated by either party—and that several of the more crucial unspoken ones seemed to be downright contradictory—was something neither the bride nor the groom had taken time to consider.

Such was the nature of their mutual intoxication.

Lucy melted against Chris with a purr of delight as he gathered her tenderly into his arms. She clung to him, nuzzling at his chest. Breathing in deeply, she savored the subtle spice of his cologne and the potent hint of natural male musk that lay beneath it.

She adored the way her new husband smelled.

And tasted.

And felt.

She was nuts about the way be looked, too.

Funny. She’d grown up assuming that when she finally surrendered to the urge to merge, her mate would be some hunky Mediterranean-type male. And why not? The vast majority of the guys she’d gone out with had been cast from the same dark-eyed, dark-haired, olive-complected mold. They’d sported tight jeans and black leather jackets. They’d also—with the notable exception of Chachi Palucci, who’d tried to impress her with plagiarized poetry—been prone to flexing their well-developed pecs in an effort to incite her admiration.

Whereas Chris ...

Well, the man to whom she’d given herself in every sense of the phrase had hazel eyes. His thick, straight hair was a sun-gilded caramel brown. Although his skin had been burnished by years of tennis, skiing and sailing, it was pale in the places the sun had never touched.

The bulk of his well-tailored wardrobe came from Brooks Brothers, Paul Stuart and Ralph Lauren. He wore leather on his feet and around his narrow waist, and that was it. He was tall—six feet to her own five-five-and built along lean, angular lines. While he was not the kind of man who indulged in false modesty, neither was he inclined to strut his stuff.

In short, Christopher Dodson Banks was not her type. No way. No how.

Or so Lucia Annette Falco would have sworn, until the sultry Saturday night when her gaze connected with his for the first time.

He had been checking out her chest when she registered his existence in the world. No big deal, really. She’d blossomed from soda-straw skinniness to a C cup the summer before she entered seventh grade, and she’d been getting ogled ever since.