Impulse

Impulse
Lass Small

Headed For the Altar?The stranger's name was Chas Cougar and he was so divine that Amy Allen just had to meet him. He was in town for a Cougar family wedding, so she decided to pose as Cougar kin and crash the festivities. Oh, sure, it was deceptive… but what else was a lonely female to do?As for Chas, once he met Amy his senses were reeling. Why, he could tell right away that she was no distant "cousin." But if she was so bent on joining the Cougar clan, Chas knew he could sweet-talk her into becoming a relative the legal way - as his wife!

Impulse

Lass Small

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

To

Elsie MacLean

friend and sage

with my love

Contents

Chapter One (#ucfe6abf5-c352-5dab-a9c5-e803eef1563c)

Chapter Two (#ud15a55fd-4e1c-57ff-8cea-3e4cb7b0e106)

Chapter Three (#ue1b5c170-ef92-5030-bc8f-00b4b94ed944)

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)

One

Speaking long-distance from Winter Haven, Florida, Mrs. Abbott assured her daughter in Atlanta, Georgia, “Well, Amy, you’re perfectly welcome to come home right now, but why not stay where you are for another day or two? With the rain, you’d either be trapped here in the house, or you’d have to go somewhere else. Unless, of course, being twenty-four years old and wearisomely mature, you’ve become tolerant of Mitzie and Peck?”

“How do you stand them?” Amy Abbott Allen inquired with genuine curiosity.

“As you know, I’m very grateful Peck saved Bill’s life all those years ago in Vietnam. I must add— however— the ‘saving’ is being told with increasing drama each year. I honestly believe Peck tripped at the crucial moment, but then you know how unbearably logical I can be?”

“I have seen hints of it.” Humor laced Amy’s droll words.

“Don’t try to ingratiate yourself to me with flattery. I cannot hint the Peckerels away. You know that. And they are such a refreshing change for your father. He needs Peck like some people need an occasional dose of Laurel and Hardy.”

“Peck is chatty, but he’s tall and thin, so he must be Laurel?”

“Yes, and Mitzie is Hardy har-har-har.”

Amy laughed with those sounds. “And what purpose does Mitzie serve?”

“I especially appreciate Mitzie’s visits. Bill looks at me in awe for simply days after we’ve been with the Peckerels.”

“I can’t begrudge you that, Mom. Instead of staying here, I think I’ll go to Saint Petersburg Beach.” She sighed dramatically into the phone mouthpiece. “I’ll sulk there until you finally get rid of the Peckerels.”

“Be careful of the prowling beasts.” Her mother’s voice became gentle. “The wolves are always after little girls like you.”

“Little? Mother, you fantasize. You know I take after Daddy.” While Mrs. Allen was five feet two inches, Amy was five feet seven, and her father was six feet four. Amy declared, “I’m a woman.”

“I...” But Cynthia Allen had hesitated too long, so she said airily, “Never mind, I’ll tell you when I see you.”

“Let me guess. You’ve found the perfect husband for me.”

Cynthia chided, “Now, Amy, why would you say something like that?”

“I’ve known you all my life.”

“It’s been a delightful acquaintance, my love. I’m sure the Peckerels can’t stay more than another few days. We haven’t been too lively.”

“You’re very sweet to Daddy.”

“I like him.”

* * *

So on that early March day, Amy Abbott Allen drove her packed car from Atlanta down to Saint Pete Beach on the west coast of Florida. She drove under the portico at the Trade Winds, exited her car and went into the glassed lobby as the rainy evening came down.

On the lobby tree, the flamboyant parrots were tolerant of the attention they were getting from some of those in the laughing, milling group of well-dressed young adults to be registered.

As Amy waited her turn, she noticed most of the people in the lobby knew one another. They were having a teasing, greeting time, exchanging gibes and laughter.

That’s when she saw him.

He was somewhat ahead of her in the casual line for the desk. He was one of that special, friendly group. Her first thought was: There’s a man Dad would like.

Then she looked at him for herself, and a strange flicker went through her body before it concentrated in the bottom of her stomach.

He was big. Almost as big as her father. He was probably thirty. His suit perfectly fit his marvelous body. His hair was very dark, so his eyebrows were, too, and that explained his black eyelashes. His lower lip was full and his jaw looked stubborn. His lazy smile was being wasted on an obnoxiously beautiful redhead who flirted with him.

Any woman would flirt with him. Amy realized that right away. A woman could become quite silly in attracting him. She could be quite like a bitch wolf trying to impress the dominant male wolf. It always embarrassed Amy to see women be so obvious.

He didn’t seem to mind the redhead’s attentions as he stood so easily relaxed. He was probably that same way in the boardroom, relaxed and in control, but God help the careless employee.