“Betsy, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Her dusty blue eyes met his. For a second all he could think of was how pretty she looked.
“This is something personal.”
“Really?”
Ryan decided to plunge through the slight opening he’d been given. “I’ve never had any trouble talking to women. But when the woman is special to you and she doesn’t know she is, finding the right words can be hard.”
Betsy simply stared.
“Do you know what it’s like to want someone but not be sure if they want you?”
Her eyes never left his face. She nodded slowly.
“To wonder if they only think of you as a friend or if their feelings run as deep as yours but they’re afraid to say anything for fear of looking foolish?”
“I—” Betsy cleared her throat before continuing. “I can relate.”
“Can you?” Ryan reached forward and took her hands. “It’s difficult having such intense feelings but having to keep them hidden.”
Dear Reader,
I’ll let you in on a little secret … I loved writing this book. Yes, it’s true. I’ve liked Ryan since I first introduced him several books ago, and it was time he got his happy ending. I’m also a huge animal lover, and Betsy’s Pomeranian, Puffy, quickly captured my heart. An interesting tidbit is that while I was writing the book I asked readers on my Facebook page to come up with appropriate names for a female Pomeranian. It was a difficult decision (lots of good suggestions), but Puffy seemed a perfect fit. By the way, if you’re not currently my Facebook friend, please consider sending me a friend request.
I also liked the fact that I learned something really interesting in the process of writing this book. I didn’t know much about love tokens before I introduced one into this story. I didn’t realize they were extremely popular in America in the 1800s and that sometimes they were given in lieu of an engagement ring. Some, like the one in this book, were engraved with a sweet verse. Others had initials or names or objects on their surface.
One thing I especially love about the characters in my Rx FOR LOVE series is the friendship and camaraderie they share. Betsy and Ryan are blessed. Not only because they have each other, but because they have this circle of friends who love and support them.
I wish you love and friendship and much happiness!
Warmest regards,
Cindy Kirk
About the Author
CINDY KIRK has loved to read for as long as she can remember. In first grade she received an award for reading one hundred books. As she grew up, summers were her favorite time of year. Nothing beat going to the library, then coming home and curling up in front of the window air conditioner with a good book. Often the novels she read would spur ideas, and she’d make up her own story (always with a happy ending). When she’d go to bed at night, instead of counting sheep, she’d make up more stories in her head. Since selling her first story in 1999, Cindy has been forced to juggle her love of reading with her passion for creating stories of her own … but she doesn’t mind. Writing for the Mills & Boon® Cherish™ series is a dream come true. She only hopes you have as much fun reading her books as she has writing them!
Cindy invites you to visit her website, www.cindykirk.com.
His Valentine
Bride
Cindy Kirk
MILLS & BOON
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To Mills & Boon editor—and fellow dog lover—
Shana Smith, whom I’ve had the pleasure
of working with on this book. Thanks for all your help
in making this story the best it could be!
Chapter One
Elizabeth “Betsy” McGregor had been out of work for six weeks, three days and twelve hours. With Thanksgiving closing in, Betsy knew if she didn’t get a job before the holiday season began, she might as well forget about finding one until after the first of the year. Her desperate straits had smacked her in the face last weekend when she’d put pen to paper and determined she only had enough money for one more rent payment. That was the only reason she’d agreed to interview for a position with Ryan Harcourt’s law firm.
Okay, perhaps the medallion she’d dropped into the pocket of her suit jacket this morning had something to do with her decision. She’d been trying to decide if she should keep the interview or cancel when she found the octagon-shaped copper coin while cleaning out her great-aunt’s home. After reading the accompanying note her recently deceased aunt had addressed to her, Betsy had been seized with a certainty that her luck was about to change.
No matter that the percentage of unemployed in Jackson Hole was on the rise or that the holidays were just around the corner. According to Aunt Agatha, the medallion would bring her not only good luck, but also love.
She snorted. It would take a lot for a tarnished metal coin engraved with ivy, a few hearts and some funny French words to send love her way. Luck, she could believe. But love?
Betsy had never been one to lie to herself. Not only was she rapidly approaching thirty, but she was also the epitome of the word average. Average height. Average weight. Average looks. Even her hair was average. Instead of being a rich chestnut-brown like that of her best friend, Adrianna Lee, the strands hanging down her back were a mousy shade of tan. It figured that her eyes couldn’t be a vivid emerald green—like Adrianna’s—but instead were a dusty blue. Not light enough to be interesting nor dark enough to be striking.
Her features were arranged nicely enough, although if she could wave a magic wand, the sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose would be banished forever. The only good thing Betsy could say about her appearance was that she was so ordinary she could blend in anywhere.
She pulled the key from the ignition, accepting the truth but irritated by it nonetheless. She didn’t want to be ordinary. Or to blend in. Just once she’d like to be the type of woman who turned heads when she walked down the street. The type of woman a man would see and immediately want by his side. The type of woman a man like Ryan Harcourt could love.
Heat flooded her face at the realization that she was still as foolish as she’d been at age ten when she’d secretly vowed to marry the slender dark-haired boy with the slate-gray eyes.
It hadn’t mattered that he was five years older or that all the middle school girls drooled over him. Unlike most of her brother’s friends, Ryan had always been nice to her. She vividly remembered the day he’d come across some boys taunting her,