Anything for Her Marriage. Karen Templeton
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“Just make me your wife.”
“And will that be enough for you?”
“I come from a long line of women who know how to make do.”
Rod had made a vow to keep her happy. To put her first. They both knew the ground rules, after all, he reminded himself as he drew Nancy into his arms, covered her mouth—warm and giving—with his. And he remembered, as he had every night since the night this baby had been conceived, every curve of her slender body, her responsiveness, her eagerness to please as well as to be pleased. And he wanted her—more than he should, more than he’d thought he could ever want a woman.
More than he would ever dare let on.
But afterward, he wondered if it had been just sex. Because if this was just sex, why did he feel as if someone had ripped a hole the size of a football field in the center of his chest?
Dear Reader,
Once again Intimate Moments is offering you six exciting and romantic reading choices, starting with Rogue’s Reform by perennial reader favorite Marilyn Pappano. This latest title in her popular HEARTBREAK CANYON miniseries features a hero who’d spent his life courting trouble—until he found himself courting the lovely woman carrying his child after one night of unforgettable passion.
Award-winner Kathleen Creighton goes back INTO THE HEARTLAND with The Cowboy’s Hidden Agenda, a compelling tale of secret identity and kidnapping—and an irresistible hero by the name of Johnny Bronco. Carla Cassidy’s In a Heartbeat will have you smiling through tears. In other words, it provides a perfect emotional experience. In Anything for Her Marriage, Karen Templeton proves why readers look forward to her books, telling a tale of a pregnant bride, a marriage of convenience and love that knows no limits. With Every Little Thing Linda Winstead Jones makes a return to the line, offering a romantic and suspenseful pairing of opposites. Finally, welcome Linda Castillo, who debuts with Remember the Night. You’ll certainly remember her and be looking forward to her return.
Enjoy—and come back next month for still more of the best and most exciting romantic reading around, available every month only in Silhouette Intimate Moments.
Yours,
Leslie J. Wainger
Executive Senior Editor
Anything for Her Marriage
Karen Templeton
To Jack, as always, who encouraged me to write full-time long before I sold my first book; and to our boys, who I have no doubt will continue to provide plenty of fodder for my stories for years to come.
Acknowledgment
Thanks to Kathy McCormick, M.D., who helped me sort out the medical what-ifs. Blame me, not her, for any goofs that resulted from blending fact and fiction.
KAREN TEMPLETON’s
extensive background in the theater and the arts, combined with a lifelong affinity for love stories, led naturally and inevitably to her writing romances. Growing up in Baltimore, she studied art, ballet and drama, and wanted nothing more than to someday strut her stuff in a Broadway show. However, although she was accepted into North Carolina School of the Arts as a drama major, halfway through she switched to costume design, in which she received her B.F.A. degree longer ago than she cares to admit.
A twelve-year stint living in New York City provided a wide variety of work experiences, as well as her husband, Jack, and the first two of her five sons.
Between sons two and three, the family moved to New Mexico, where Karen established a thriving in-home mail-order crafts business that she gave up almost the instant the family bought their first computer and she discovered the magic of erasing mistakes without Wite-Out. Now writing romances full-time, she says she’s finally found an outlet for all that theatrical training—she gets to write, produce, design, cast and play all the parts!
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Chapter 1
“I’m not asking you to marry the man, Nance.” The blonde popped yet another miniature quiche into her mouth. “Just talk to him.”
Nancy stifled a sigh. Just think—she could be home, curled up with the cats, watching Dick Clark and stuffing her face with Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia ice cream. Instead, she was hiding out in her best friend’s kitchen, guzzling white wine and aching to ditch her shoes. Two hundred bucks, and the things hurt like hell.
“And say what, exactly?”
“Well, how should I know?” Elizabeth Sanford rearranged the hors d’oeuvres on the dish in front of her with one hand, the other rubbing the bulge underneath her emerald velvet maternity tunic. “But we’ve got to do something. Did you get a good look at him? Lord. He looks as if his dog just died.”
Oh, yeah. She’d looked. There he’d sat in one corner of the burgundy leather sofa, all alone and all in black. Rod Braden. Gorgeous, wealthy, brooding. A man she’d secretly lusted after off and on for nearly four years, ever since the day she and Elizabeth had met him when they were both working for the same Realty agency in Detroit. Stayed out of the way for nearly two years while he and Elizabeth quasi-dated, a relationship that died a quick, painless death once Elizabeth met the man who became her husband. With Elizabeth safely out of the picture, Nancy even sort of made a play for Rod, only to quickly realize that goal had “lost cause” written all over it.
Not being the beating-her-head-against-a-brick-wall type, however, she’d shrugged it off, and life went on. Since then, Rod had been in and out of a second marriage, then suddenly moved to Spruce Lake, Michigan, setting up permanent housekeeping in the old mansion Elizabeth had sold him—with a straight face, no less—as a summer home some time back. And Nancy had even shrugged that off, too, figuring what did Rod Braden’s life have to do with her?
Then she walked in an hour ago, caught him staring all sad and lonely like that into the fire, and the thought came, “It’s the dawn of a new millennium—do you know where your libido is?” Followed closely by, “Oh, hell.”
Two glasses of wine later, she was still waiting for the booze buzz to override the sexual whatever-it-was buzz so she could join this party and act like something resembling a normal person. Or better yet, pass out. Her right little toe already had.
“Well?” Elizabeth said, shoving another tidbit into her mouth.
When the going gets tough, the tough change the subject. “You know, if you don’t stop eating like that, you’re gonna weigh five hundred pounds.”
“Hah! You’re just jealous because I have boobs now and you don’t.”
Nancy smirked. Not that she’d turn down an extra cup size, should anyone offer, but mammary inadequacy