A Doctor for Keeps

A Doctor for Keeps
Lynne Marshall

Her lifelong search for home…Desdemona Rask never knew much about her family. Now she is finally getting a chance to learn about her roots in the town of Heartlandia. For the first time, Desi feels as if there's somewhere she belongs…but there's more to her welcome home than she expected! Her grandmother's next-door neighbor looks like a Viking warrior, and he's giving Desi all sorts of unwelcome feelings….…might be closer than she thinks!Caring for his son, Steven, is single dad Dr. Kent Larson's first priority. But the boy's stunning new piano teacher makes him take a second look at his to-do list. Still, he's lost at love before–how could he risk another heart-battering? Does the doctor dare to go all in?

Careful, Larson, don’t let her beauty mess with your head.

How many times today had he admired her light bronze complexion, the sprinkling of freckles across her nose and those rich dark eyes? Not to mention the lush lips begging to be—He shook his head. Think straight. She lives hand to mouth, picks up jobs here and there, doesn’t stick with any particular thing for long. She’s spent her life traveling the country, never settling down. She’s just passing through.

His fists opened and closed as he did battle with the two strongest organs in his body. His brain knew without a doubt she’d break Steven’s heart. More than anything Kent wanted to protect his son, but he knew life had a way of playing out in the least expected ways. Why deprive the kid of the dazzling Ms Desi?

Why deprive himself?

Dear Reader (#u3e27389b-2b60-5d9b-a250-5309818e7c90),

Welcome to Heartlandia, the little town with a big secret.

Sometimes a story comes to mind that challenges the heart and soul of the author. A biracial daughter of a Scandinavian mother and African-American father, Desdemona Rask grew up solely with her mother on the road in the Midwest. Deep in her heart Desi longs to find her family and her roots. After her mother dies she heads to her Scandinavian grandmother’s house in the town from which her mother ran away. A whole new world opens up to Desi in Heartlandia, which is nestled along the Oregon coast by the Columbia River. There, a precocious eight-year-old named Steven becomes her first piano student. Next she meets his father, the striking doctor next door, and that’s when the fireworks begin.

Being a single father of a super-active son, and running the local urgent care clinic, Kent Larson hardly has time to breathe, let alone fall in love. When the exotically lovely daughter of his childhood babysitter arrives in town, new life gets infused into Kent’s heart. But how can he trust his heart again when his wife walked out on him and their son without so much as a glance over her shoulder? How wise is it to fall for a woman who has just set foot in town and is already searching for a way out through her family tree?

The heart is a funny organ that rarely listens to reason and logic. Thank goodness! Otherwise Desi and Kent would never have found their happily ever after.

I love to hear from readers. Friend me on Facebook or check out my website, www.lynnemarshall.com (http://www.lynnemarshall.com).

Wishing you love and happy reading!

Lynne

A Doctor for Keeps

Lynne Marshall

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

LYNNE MARSHALL used to worry that she had a serious problem with daydreaming—then she discovered she was supposed to write those stories! A late bloomer, Lynne came to fiction writing after her children were nearly grown. Now she battles the empty nest by writing stories that always include a romance, sometimes medicine, a dose of mirth, or both, but always stories from her heart. She is a Southern California native, a dog lover, a cat admirer, a power walker and an avid reader.

Sincerest thanks to Tara Gavin for giving me the opportunity to write this book and series.

Special thanks to my friend Sylvie Fox for her input in a key scene.

As always, thanks to my steady-as-a-rock critique partner, Dee J. Adams.

Contents

Cover (#uf86e692f-9a26-5710-9113-51fe6d38751c)

Introduction (#ub21d9f86-a184-5279-8392-6daffd99e19b)

Dear Reader (#u67382ede-fa93-50a8-aaa1-81a919ce1efe)

Title Page (#ud2f5ffce-1597-507b-ad49-fa7c2e356942)

About the Author (#ud4518208-3d39-5d6c-9bf0-9b65ee750deb)

Dedication (#ud252d721-64a3-5fc7-a9ef-a7f1a238533a)

Chapter One (#ulink_c03f25de-b0c7-5030-97f6-1922461ff603)

Chapter Two (#ulink_270434d7-caaf-53e1-833b-f694b3e8fbc0)

Chapter Three (#ulink_1f6cddce-19cf-57eb-a250-f7fb7f377e83)

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)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#ulink_530df9e9-c5a8-5950-a14a-b8f4dc39603d)

Desi wished she had a flashlight as she crept around the side of the ancient house in the dark. A thorn from an equally old and gnarly bush snagged her T-shirt, puncturing her skin.

“Ouch!” She immediately regretted her outburst since it was almost midnight. Where did Gerda say that painted rock is?

Her grandmother, a woman Desi had met only a few times in her twenty-eight years, had earlier instructed over the phone where the extra house key was hidden. Determined not to wake up Grandma Gerda, she tramped through the overgrown grass and shrubbery along the side of the house, searching for the mark.

Success! A brightly patterned rock nestled against the wooden gate stood out under the moonlight like fluorescent paint under black light. As she’d been told, she searched along the bottom for the small stick-on box holding the house key, hoping there weren’t any nighttime creepy crawlers around. Just as she retrieved the box and opened it, the assaulting aroma of night-blooming jasmine tickled her nose. Sneezing with gusto, she dropped the key and got on her hands and knees to search for it, grateful there was a full moon.

A few seconds later, with key in hand, she emerged out of the thick overgrowth between two houses, heading for the huge wraparound porch belonging to her maternal grandmother. But not before tripping on a brick along the walkway. She lurched forward, swatting at the night for nonexistent support and letting fly a few choice words.

A bright light blinded her just as she stopped teetering and regained her balance.

“Who’s there?” A distinctly deep and masculine voice came from the vicinity of the light.