The Husband Project

The Husband Project
Leigh Michaels

Finding Mr RightKit, Susannah, AlisonSingle, successful and not searching for husbands–but love finds them anyway!Everywhere she looked, there were babies…and Alison longed for one of her own. She wasn't yearning for wedding bells, though: Alison was happily single–she simply wanted to be a mother!Then along came Dr. Logan Kavanaugh. He knew everything about making babies, and he needed a wife! If Alison agreed to marry him, she could have her baby–and a gorgeous husband she never even knew she wanted…until he proposed!

Finding Mr Right (#u3a230cb9-7249-51ae-888a-b5970a914dfb)Letter to Reader (#u82c365e8-14d5-5841-b0c8-664196d0fe55)Title Page (#u50c36980-7d58-5e19-94d0-5152482102db)CHAPTER ONE (#u230a767b-1d93-5a03-af1f-607be484b574)CHAPTER TWO (#uf4d2726d-8ad9-5f26-b516-5db866bcd48b)CHAPTER THREE (#u0b3dfe9d-3b57-568d-861c-e69d4b48ed85)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)

Finding Mr Right

Welcome to the exciting conclusion of Leigh Michaels’s wonderful trilogy—all about dating games and the single woman!

Meet Kit, Susannah and Alison. Three very special women who are friends, business partners—and happily single! Ambitious and successful, they live life to the full and have no room on their agenda for husband hunting!

But it seems they don’t have to go looking for Mr Right...because each finds herself unexpectedly pursued by her very own dream date....

Practical Kit has already won her perfect man in The Billionaire Date (March #3496)—and bubbly Susannah has been reunited with her gorgeous first love in The Playboy Assignment (April #3500).

Only one of the three friends, Alison, remains steadfastly single—until she can no longer deny her craving for a baby! This month we meet Alison as she encounters a doctor who could help her, and finds herself taking on The Husband Project (May #3504).

You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, but you won’t be able to put these books down as you share in a very special friendship between three wonderful women, and fall in love with the gorgeous men who—eventually—win them over!

Dear Reader,

Over the years I’ve greatly enjoyed writing books that are connected—sequels, prequels and spin-offs. They usually come about because a secondary character in one book is so interesting that he or she demands a story of their own. But until now I’ve never tackled an interconnected set of books, knowing from the very beginning that the stories would be so closely tied together that—while each book can stand alone—the three form a very special package. So the FINDING MR RIGHT trilogy has been both a challenge and a joy.

My editor and I had been talking about a trilogy for some time, and I’d been looking for the perfect setting in which my heroines could be business partners as well as friends. Then one of my friends mentioned that her sister was a partner in an all-woman public relations firm in Kansas City, Missouri. Now, that was a story possibility made just for me, since I have a joumalism background and public relations experience. And though, to this day, I know nothing more about that real-life PR firm than that it employs only women, I want to thank the members of that company for the inspiration they provided for the FINDING MR RIGHT trilogy.

And I thank you, my wonderful readers, for following along through the fifteen years since my first book was published, all the way to this new challenge. I think you’ll enjoy meeting Kit, Susannah and Alison every bit as much as I enjoyed writing about them. I must warn you, though—I cried when I had to give up these three special new friends....

With love,

PS. I love to hear from readers! You can write to me at:

PO. Box 935, Ottumwa, Iowa, 52501-0935.

The Husband Project

Leigh Michaels

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

CHAPTER ONE

EVERYWHERE she looked, there were babies.

In the supermarket, they cooed and grabbed at bright-colored packages. In the park she passed each day on her walk to work, they toddled through tall grass and dug in the sandboxes. In the office of one of her clients, a set of twins napped cherubically on a blanket behind the enormous walnut desk...

Despite what she was seeing, however, Alison Novak knew that the Windy City hadn’t actually had an abrupt population explosion. Human beings had a tendency to see what they looked for, and she was no exception. As soon as a person became acquainted with a new word, she was apt to see it everywhere from billboards to telephone books. Likewise, as soon as a woman realized how urgently she wanted a baby...

It was the first time she’d admitted that her longing for a child had gone beyond desire all the way to desperation, and the realization twisted Alison’s heart into a pretzel. As if in answer, the pain which had for weeks been coming and going in her abdomen flared sharply. This one was worse than usual; it shot clear through to her back and brought tiny beads of perspiration to her upper lip.

Abruptly, she changed her mind about going back to the office and turned into Flanagan’s instead. The small neighborhood bar was quiet and cool, and she could sit there for a few minutes till the pain calmed, as experience told her it would.

In any case, it was just half an hour till her partners would be joining her; the three owners of Tryad Public Relations met at Flanagan’s every Friday evening for brat-wurst and a wrap-up of the week’s work. With any luck, by the time Kit and Susannah arrived, this attack would have passed and Alison would be back to normal.

She sank into a booth not far from the front door and asked the waitress for a glass of seltzer water with a slice of lemon. As Alison waited for the drink to arrive, she leaned her head against the tall back of the booth and closed her eyes, focusing her attention inward. Though the pain was a little worse than it had been before, it was following the same basic pattern—starting off like the worst stitch in her side she’d ever felt, and gradually diminishing as she sat still. This time it seemed to be concentrated on the left.

She was so intent on analyzing the discomfort that she didn’t see the waitress bring her drink, and she didn’t realize her partners had arrived till she heard Susannah’s voice coming toward the booth. “It’s perfectly awful, that’s what it is.... Are you taking a nap, Ali?”

Alison opened her eyes and sat up a bit too suddenly; the dim little bar , seemed to revolve for a moment, and Susannah’s face, full of concern, swam before her eyes. “I’m fine. What’s so awful, Sue?”

Susannah flung herself into the seat beside Alison. “The single most valuable piece of art the Dearborn Museum owns was vandalized this afternoon.”

“The Evans Jackson painting?” Alison was startled. “How could anybody vandalize it?”

Across the table, Kit choked and started to laugh. “You sound almost like me, Ali. I wanted to know how anyone could tell it had been damaged. It was nothing but smears of red paint on a white canvas in the first place, so—”

“That was not what Ali asked,” Susannah said firmly, and turned to Alison. “Somebody sneaked a can of spray paint into the museum and made a few additions.”

“Maybe it’ll actually increase the value,” Kit murmured.

“You have no appreciation of modern art.”

“Neither do you, so don’t be a hypocrite, Sue.”

Susannah looked stem for only a few more seconds before she burst into giggles. “That’s true. And actually, I have to admit—only to you guys, of course—that it did look better. At least there’s some variety now. However, when anything that’s insured for half a million gets damaged, it’s.... Why aren’t we in our usual spot, Ali?”

“Fresh air.” Alison waved a hand toward the propped-open door. “Fall’s coming fast, so we’d better enjoy this while we can.” That wasn’t bad for thinking quickly, she told herself. She wasn’t about to admit that ten minutes ago she hadn’t felt like walking another step.

“It is warm in here,” Kit agreed. “Though you look a bit pale, Ali. You didn’t walk all the way back from downtown, did you?”

Alison shrugged. “It’s rush hour. If I’d tried to get a cab I wouldn’t be here yet.”

Susannah slid to the far end of the bench seat, turning to stare at Alison with her eyes narrowed. “If it was the walk, she’d be flushed instead of pale, Kit.”

Kit’s eyebrows rose. “You’re right. Then—”

Susannah picked up the glass of wine the waitress had set before her. “And it’s not just today, either. Ali’s been pale for a couple of weeks. I’ve always thought she looks sort of like an old-fashioned china doll, all shiny black hair and porcelain complexion—but there are limits.”

“And one of my limits is when you talk about me as if I’m not here,” Alison reminded. “Anyway, I’m fine. I’m just a little tired from a long week.”

She didn’t think she’d been terribly convincing, for Kit’s eyebrows remained elevated and Susannah’s blue-green eyes watchful. But to her relief neither of them pushed the question.

Kit drew circles on the table with the base of her soft drink glass and said, “Sue and I have some great ideas for getting the singles club up and running, Ali.”

Alison sighed. “Look, guys. I’m sorry, but you know very well I’ve been no more than lukewarm on the idea of the singles club since Sue first came up with it.”

“You’re the one who suggested getting a restaurant to sponsor it,” Susannah pointed out. “And that’s the key to—”

“One suggestion hardly makes me a fan. And I can’t do a good job on a project I think is ludicrous.”