All she had to do was give him back the ring.
Then he’d say goodbye and leave. Everyone had known they were wrong for each other. Everyone but Andrew. Now it seemed he finally figured it out. “It appears we’re ready to close the door on the past.”
“It might feel that way to you, Sylvie. The problem is, I still want you. I believe more drastic measures are needed.” He stepped closer.
Her heart thudded. “What kind of measures do you have in mind?”
“Immersion therapy,” he said. “I will immerse myself in your life. I obviously didn’t know you before. What better way to get you out of my system than to become acquainted with the real you?”
“How long will that take? A couple of days—”
“I’m here for three weeks.”
Given their history, that seemed little enough to ask. So why did her pulse quicken at the thought? “I think it’s best if we keep physical intimacy to a minimum.” She crossed the room to put space between them, but he followed her.
“Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “I’ll help you pack.”
“Where am I going?”
He gave her a sexy smile. “You’re moving in with me.”
* * *
Rx for Love: Just following doctor’s orders …
The Doctor’s Runaway Fiancée
Cindy Kirk
From the time she was a little girl, CINDY KIRK thought everyone made up different endings to books, movies and television shows. Instead of counting sheep at night, she made up stories. She’s now had over forty novels published. She enjoys writing emotionally satisfying stories with a little faith and humour tossed in. She encourages readers to connect with her on Facebook and Twitter, @cindykirkauthor, and via her website, www.cindykirk.com.
To Patience Bloom, my wonderful editor, whose presence in my life has made it so much richer.
Contents
Sylvie Thorne gazed into the beauty-shop mirror and forced herself to breathe. Seven seconds in, then out for eleven. Almost immediately, the panic ebbed.
Two hours earlier she’d given Cassidy Duggan, owner of the Clippety Do Dah Salon, free rein to cut and color her hair. While Cassidy was as nontraditional with hair as Sylvie was in cake designs, there was no better stylist in Jackson Hole.
“What do you think?” Cassidy fussed with a stray strand of hair and smiled expectantly.
“I look...different.” An understatement to be sure, but the best Sylvie could muster.
As she continued to study the unfamiliar reflection, Sylvie reminded herself she was the one who’d asked for a change. She’d grown bored with the hairstyle she’d had since high school. The upcoming wedding of a friend had been the gentle shove she’d needed to try something different.
Two hours ago she’d walked in with wavy copper-colored hair hanging in loose curls halfway down her back and put herself in Cassidy’s experienced hands.
“Sleek and sophisticated.” Daffodil Prentiss, the hairstylist from the next booth, punctuated her proclamation with an approving nod.
Sleek and sophisticated.
While those two words were rarely tossed in her direction, Sylvie cocked her head and opened her mind. “I like it.”
The waves had been straightened and the blunt cut hair now barely reached her shoulders. The muted copper strands, while still the predominant color, had been replaced at the ends by several inches of soft honey blond.
“Are you sure?” Cassidy asked, apparently troubled by her less-than-enthusiastic response. “If you don’t like it, I can—”
“Exactly what I wanted.” Sylvie spoke more decisively this time. “And the change I was looking for.”
“I didn’t want to go too crazy.” Cassidy tapped a finger against her bright red lips. “If you get home and decide this isn’t enough of a change,