“Concentrate your attention ” on my daughter,” Logan said sharply About the Author Title Page CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN Copyright
“Concentrate your attention ” on my daughter,” Logan said sharply
“That’s what I intend to do.”
“Good.I don’t want you to start getting overly domesticated, worrying about cooking superb meals to impress me. Our contract is for a few short weeks purely and simply as a convenience for me and to get you out of a difficult situation Don’t make the mistake of imagining it could become something more permanent, honey. I wouldn’t like to see you disappointed.”
Jennifer Taylor
was born in Liverpool, England, and still lives in the northwest, several miles outside the city. Books have always been a passion of hers, so it seemed natural to choose a career in librananship—a wise decision, as the library was where she met her husband, Bill. Twenty years and two children later, they are still happily married, with the added bonus that she has discovered how challenging and enjoyable writing romance fiction can be!
Chase a Dream
Jennifer Taylor
CHAPTER ONE
IT was the man’s hair that caught her attention first. Thick and vibrant, it gleamed like burnished copper under the hot Florida sun. Add to that a leanly muscled six-foot-plus frame, and an aura of power and confidence, and the result was, frankly, devastating!
Stephanie let her eyes linger appreciatively on the man a moment longer, then realised she was in danger of missing the very thing she’d come to see. Mickey, Donald, Goofy...all her childhood favourites were about to pass a few feet away, and the man was blocking her view of the parade.
She edged sideways, aiming for a small gap to the man’s left, then gasped when someone jogged her elbow, sending the large-size cup of frosted cola she’d just bought flying from her hand. It hit the man’s broad back and splattered in every direction, spilling dark brown liquid all over the back of his white T-shirt and the seat of his jeans. For a stunned second Stephanie just stared at the damage, then hurriedly pulled a handful of tissues from her bag and tried to wipe up the mess.
‘I’m really sorry,’ she muttered apologetically, mopping at the stain spreading across the man’s muscular back. ‘It was just an accident, but...’
He caught her hand as he turned to glare at her, his face like stone, his eyes mirroring displeasure, and she felt the words dry up. His eyes were very dark, bitter-chocolate-brown, under brows the same colour, his face deeply tanned. With hair that colour his skin should have been pale, his eyes...
‘Blue, definitely blue,’ she heard herself murmur, and flushed to the roots of her dark brown hair with embarrassment.
‘I beg your pardon?’ His voice was very deep, gravelly, and so unfriendly that Stephanie gulped. She dragged her hand away from his grasp and bent back to the stain, wiping the wad of tissues down the back of his muscular thigh before suddenly realising exactly what she was doing. She straightened abruptly, her face beet-red, her soft blue eyes filled with apology.
‘I really am sorry. It was just an accident, you see. Someone behind me jogged my arm and—’
He cut her off, his expression never softening at the sincerity with which she offered her apologies. ‘Forget it. It really doesn’t matter.’
How could anyone with eyes that colour make them look so cold? The thought skipped through her mind almost too fast for her to be aware of it before she realised that the man was moving away from her. She couldn’t let him go like that, not until she’d at least of fered to pay for any damage she’d caused to his obviously expensive clothing. She followed him through the crowd, murmuring apologies to left and right for the disturbance she was causing.
‘But Dad, we’ll miss it now! Can’t we just stay until the parade goes past and then go back so you can change?’
She hadn’t realised he had anyone with him before, and now she slowed, studying the pleading face of the little girl whom he was holding firmly by the hand. It was obvious even without having heard what the child had called him that she was his daughter, because she had the same glorious colour hair surrounding a face that was just a shade too pale and wan for a child her age. As Stephanie hovered uncertainly, the man glanced down at the child, his expression softening just for a moment.
‘We can come back, Jess. There’s another parade later on, and we can watch that. I can’t stay here in these clothes. I’m soaked to the skin, thanks to that fool woman back there.’
Fool woman! Just who did he think he was calling a ‘fool woman’? It had been an accident, pure and simple, and anyone with a spark of decency would have accepted her apology in the spirit it had been intended! She pivoted on her heel, all thoughts of making further apologies or offers to pay to have his clothes cleaned fading abruptly at his boorishness, but she’d gone no more than a step or two when the child spoke again, a hint of tears in her voice that brought Stephanie to a halt.
‘Oh, but that’s not fair! If we go back now then you’ll find something more important to do rather than come back here, and you promised, Daddy. You promised!’
‘I know I did. And I have every intention of sticking to that promise. Now come along.’
‘No! I won’t. I want to stay here!’
‘What you want,_ young lady, is——’
She’d heard enough, more than enough. It was her fault that the child’s day was being ruined, although she could have expected the man to show a bit more understanding towards his daughter. From the sound of it, the little girl had set her heart on seeing the parade.
‘Excuse me, I couldn’t help overhearing what was going on, and I wonder...’ She faltered as the man turned slowly towards her. There was something frankly intimidating about his height, the sheer breadth of his muscular shoulders straining under the thin cotton, the iciness of those disturbingly dark eyes. For a moment Stephanie almost forgot what she’d been trying to say, before hurriedly marshalling her thoughts again. ‘I was wondering if I could help in some way.’
He raised a mocking brow, his thin lips curving into a faint smile that seemed closer to a sneer. ‘Help? I think you’ve already done more than enough today, thank you.’
Stephanie flushed, but she stood her ground, refusing to back down in the face of such open hostility. She shot a quick look at the child’s unhappy face and drew her strength from that. No child that