The instant he held her, Mac felt something in him that he’d been trying to keep at bay
He’d known Katherine an hour, tops, and his heart ached from a fear that came from knowing what could have happened to her out in the storm. That fear caught at his middle and made him hold her even tighter. This woman with the incredible green eyes was threatening the foundation of his carefully constructed new life.
Fear. Real fear. It was hash and unwelcome. “What in the hell were you thinking?” he demanded with more roughness than he intended. “I told you to stay in the truck. That I’d be back.”
“Looking for…you,” she said in a voice so unsteady and low that he almost couldn’t make out her words.
He held her away from him and saw her chin trembling. “You could have been seriously hurt.”
“Oh, Mac,” she gasped. “I thought…” She shuddered violently. “I never meant…”
He knew then that once Katherine left, being alone would never feel right again.
Dear Reader,
Things get off to a great start this month with another wonderful installment in Cathy Gillen Thacker’s series THE DEVERAUX LEGACY. In Their Instant Baby, a couple comes together to take care of an adorable infant—and must fight their instant attraction. Be sure to look for a brand-new Deveraux story from Cathy when The Heiress, a Harlequin single title, is released next March.
Judy Christenberry is also up this month with a story readers have been anxiously awaiting. Yes, Russ Randall does finally get his happy ending in Randall Wedding, part of the BRIDES FOR BROTHERS series. We also have Sassy Cinderella from Kara Lennox, the concluding story in her memorable series HOW TO MARRY A HARDISON. And rounding out things is Montana Miracle, a stranded story with a twist from perennial favorite Mary Anne Wilson.
Enjoy all we have to offer and come back next month to help us celebrate twenty years of home, heart and happiness!
Sincerely,
Melissa Jeglinski
Associate Senior Editor
Harlequin American Romance
Montana Miracle
Mary Anne Wilson
For my dad, Herb Bignell
My hero I miss you
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Mary Anne Wilson is a Canadian transplanted to Southern California, where she lives with her husband, three children and an assortment of animals. She knew she wanted to write romances when she found herself “rewriting” the great stories in literature, such as A Tale of Two Cities, to give them “happy endings.” Over a ten-year career, she’s published more than thirty romances, had her books on bestseller lists, been nominated for Reviewer’s Choice Awards and received a Career Achievement Award in Romantic Suspense. She’s looking forward to her next thirty books.
Books by Mary Anne Wilson
HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE
495—HART’S OBSESSION
523—COULD IT BE YOU?
543—HER BODYGUARD
570—THE BRIDE WORE BLUE JEANS
589—HART’S DREAM
609—THE CHRISTMAS HUSBAND
637—NINE MONTHS LATER…
652—MISMATCHED MOMMY?
670—JUST ONE TOUCH
700—MR. WRONG!
714—VALENTINE FOR AN ANGEL
760—RICH, SINGLE & SEXY
778—COWBOY IN A TUX
826—THAT NIGHT WE MADE BABY
891—REGARDING THE TYCOON’S TODDLER…*
895—THE C.E.O. & THE SECRET HEIRESS*
899—MILLIONAIRE’S CHRISTMAS MIRACLE*
909—THE McCALLUM QUINTUPLETS “And Babies Make Seven”
952—MONTANA MIRACLE
Contents
Prologue
He looked around the party in the glass-and-steel house high in the Hollywood Hills and saw nothing but emptiness. The women and men, partying as if there were no tomorrow, didn’t exist for him at that moment. Nothing existed for him. Not even himself. Dr. Mackenzie Parish. That man was gone. Gone.
Mac set his champagne, untouched, on the marble table by massive glass doors opened to the terrace and the night beyond. A blanket of city lights lay far below, a city as unreal to him as he felt at that moment. He turned from it, pushed his hands into the pockets of his leather bomber jacket and headed for the spiral metal stairs that went down three flights to the garage level.
He was down two flights when he heard someone call out, “Doc? Hey, Doc!” the sound echoing off the stairwell walls, which were splashed with modern art.
He looked up, and on the top landing someone was waving to him. Clarisa? Marissa? He couldn’t remember the name of the woman