Marriage On His Mind

Marriage On His Mind
Susan Crosby

CINDERELLA IN WAITING With just one look Jack Stone could tell that Mickey was a princess living in a self-imposed ivory tower. But he wasn't one to let a few flights of stairs keep him from what he wanted. And he most definitely wanted the reluctant Cinderella next door. Melting her icy reserve would be his pleasure.Men had pursued Mickey before, but never with such a fervor as her enticing neighbor. How was a woman with her turbulent past supposed to resist Jack's tempting caresses? Especially when her sexy suitor began talking about… marriage! Was it enough to make a girl toss her glass slipper and run for the preacher?

“Exasperating Woman,” He Growled, Hauling Her To Him For A Final Stormy Kiss. (#ucda1b7d9-51fe-5254-9d17-f6cfbef06d6b)Letter to Reader (#uf4848e98-476c-5d68-b259-eae603bf5efe)Title Page (#u1b87a68b-4db4-5b43-a0ce-cd5f95639f2f)About the Author (#ubf0330cb-c15f-599c-a591-2652895885d6)Dedication (#u27e6d2f0-bc0b-594e-a18e-89cc7a647b0f)Chapter One (#u556b5cbc-7834-52ea-97ea-394e7ee0c07f)Chapter Two (#u4e5d104a-9bbe-5271-8784-961411b745dc)Chapter Three (#u6f4b0365-ea12-555a-baf9-b3de150c0a36)Chapter Four (#ufdb95010-b636-5fc9-a015-bddb1d5bfab0)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)Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

“Exasperating Woman,” He Growled, Hauling Her To Him For A Final Stormy Kiss.

Reluctantly Jack let her go, then watched as she slowly walked away. He shook his head, irritated with himself. He wouldn’t blame Mickey for shying away from him now. He’d told her they would play by her rules; then he’d forced the issue when he shouldn’t have. He was the one with the marriage timetable, after all.

Okay, so she hadn’t resisted. Okay, so she had pushed him as much as he had pushed her. Still, it was his responsibility to be in control. A true Prince Charming would be the epitome of patience, wouldn’t he? And a true Prince Charming would never lose control.

He just had to stay patient and keep control. Simple, right?

But Jack didn’t think his life would ever be simple again.

Dear Reader,

The celebration of Silhouette Desire’s 15th anniversary continues this month! First, there’s a wonderful treat in store for you as Ann Major continues her fantastic CHILDREN OF DESTINY series with November’s MAN OF THE MONTH, Nobody’s Child Not only is this the latest volume in this popular miniseries, but Ann will have a Silhouette Single Title, also part of CHILDREN OF DESTINY, in February 1998, called Secret Child Don’t miss either one of these unforgettable love stories.

BJ James’s popular BLACK WATCH series also continues with Journey’s End, the latest installment in the stories of the men—and the women—of the secret agency.

This wonderful lineup is completed with delicious love stories by Lass Small, Susan Crosby, Eileen Wilks and Shawna Delacorte. And next month, look for six more Silhouette Desire books, including a MAN OF THE MONTH by Dixie Browning!

Desire...it’s the name you can trust for dramatic, sensuous, engrossing stories written by your bestselling favorites and terrific newcomers. We guarantee handsome heroes, likable heroines...and happily-ever-after endings. So read, and enjoy!

Senior Editor

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Marriage on his Mind

Susan Crosby

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

SUSAN CROSBY

is fascinated by the special and complex communication of courtship, and so she burrows in her office to dream up warm, strong heroes and good-hearted, self-reliant heroines to satisfy her own love of happy endings.

She and her husband have two grown sons and live in the Central Valley of California. She spent a mere seven-and-a-half years getting through college and finally earned a B.A. in English a few years ago. She has worked as a synchronized swimming instructor, a personnel interviewer at a toy factory and a trucking company manager. Involved for many years behind the scenes in a local community theater, she has made only one stage appearance—as the rear end of a camel! Variety, she says, makes for more interesting novels.

Readers are welcome to write to her at P.O. Box 1836, Lodi, CA 95241.

To Linda and Lee, whose friendship caught fire.

We should all be so blessed.

One

Crack!

“Foul!” the umpire called.

Jack Stone heaved a sigh of relief from his position at shortstop on the baseball diamond. One less catch muffed. What the hell am I doing here? he asked himself for the hundredth time. Midlife crisis, remember? his mind whispered back.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he muttered as the pitcher tossed another softball underhanded to the batter.

Crack!

Oh, God, it was headed toward him. Please, let me catch it. Please. Otherwise, The Mouth—

The ball hit the hard infield once before magically bouncing into his glove. Stunned at his luck, he stared at the white orb nestled in oiled leather until the second baseman yelled at him to throw it to first. Jack cranked up his arm and threw—and missed the first baseman by six feet, the ball skittering to the fence as the runner chugged into second standing up.

“Hey, Ponytail, whaddaya need, a map?” a woman yelled from the stands of the small stadium hosting the men’s recreational league game.

The short, neat ponytail Jack sported suddenly felt as inconspicuous as Rapunzel’s hair, but he wouldn’t let The Mouth provoke him into cutting it, not after he’d gotten it long enough to stop using gel to hold it in place. After a year’s time, he could finally just pull it back and fasten it.

The ponytail served as a symbol, an important one. He saw it as a sign of his new independence and a reminder to be patient with the world, and he refused to buckle under to some loudmouthed, self-appointed bleacher coach who’d decided to make him her cause. This was only the fifth game of baseball he’d played in twenty-two years, since being thrust into the role of provider for his seven-year-old brother, Dan, when Jack had been only seventeen himself.

He hadn’t had time to play. Not just baseball, but anything. He’d been changing that, though. If only The Mouth—

“Strike three, you’re out!” the umpire called, ending the inning and Jack’s mental wandering.

“Sorry,” he said to the first baseman as they shuffled into the screened dugout.

“Turned out okay,” his teammate Scott Lansing replied. “They didn’t get any runs out of it. That woman in the stands making you nervous?”

“I don’t know what The Mouth’s making me feel. If she’d yell at someone else once in a while, it probably wouldn’t bother me so much. I just can’t figure out why she’s chosen me as her personal project. Stacy said she’d try to talk to her tonight.” Envy burrowed in as he watched a teammate knock the first pitch deep into left field, a skill Jack hadn’t mastered yet. “The woman was right about my switching positions with Drew. I’m more effective at short than I was at third. I needed that extra split second of reaction time. And I’ve almost gotten two hits since she told me to drop my front shoulder before I swing. I just wish she’d kept on passing instructions through Stacy instead of yelling at me on the field.”

“I give you credit for rising to the occasion, Jack. Most guys wouldn’t.”

He pulled on an earlobe as his gaze wandered to where The Mouth sat. “Unfortunately, she’s right too often to ignore.”

“And you abhor mediocrity, especially in yourself.”

Jack grinned as he stood and hefted a metal bat over his shoulder. “Some things I can’t change.”

Mickey Morrison watched the man she’d dubbed Ponytail stroll from the dugout to home plate. Keep your shoulder down, she ordered him telepathically as he sliced the air with the bat a couple of times. She tugged the bill of her L.A. Seagulls baseball cap a little lower on her forehead, grasped the wooden bench under her tightly with both hands and leaned forward in concentration, ignoring the person taking a seat beside her, jostling the bench.

“Strike one!”

Mickey groaned. “Both eyes, Ponytail. Watch the ball with both eyes,” she yelled at her self-appointed protеgе. She saw him flinch, then bear down, his lanky frame hardening visibly as he focused on her instructions.