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.”“You aren’t a cowboy? You’re a commodities analyst?”“I’m a rich commodities analyst.That’s how I could afford the ring.” He nodded to her hand.“Do you think you’d mind leaving Texas to live in Chicago? I’ve got friends who could probably get you a job at one of the museums downtown.” He cupped her face with his hands.“Remember telling me that you wanted to paint? As your husband, I’d support you in every way to help you achieve your career goals.”She kissed him, not caring who saw them or what anyone might think or say.When they were both breathless, they came up for air.“I can’t believe this.After I thought I’d lost you forever, you’ve come back and are making all my dreams come true.”“This is just the beginning.The best is ahead of us.Our wedding.Our honeymoon.The rest of our lives together.”She clasped his hand.“Brent, I’d like to wait until after we tell my mother that we’re getting married before you explain to her who you really are.I know it’s mean of me to want to hear her fuss and fume for a few minutes.But it serves her right.Besides, once she knows that you’re rich and successful, she’s going to be overjoyed.”“What about you? Are you disappointed because I’m not really a cowboy?”“Ah, but you are a cowboy at heart.You’re my cowboy.” Jenna stood, tugged on Brent’s hand and said, “I should dance a few more dances before I leave.But after that, we can go to my apartment.Dana and Katie went home for the weekend, so we’ll have the place all to ourselves.”Brent followed her into the ballroom.“Do you have something particular in mind for later?”“I’m interested in taking another wild ride on my favorite cowboy,” she whispered.“Before I become an old married lady and settle down with my husband in Chicago.”He swept her onto the dance floor, holding her securely within his embrace.“Jenna, honey, your wild ride is just beginning.”REINVENTING MARYChristine RimmerFor Vilma…Chapter 1“How about a nice, tall glass of cold tea while you wait, Mr.Campbell?” asked Margaret McKenzie.Mary Clark, cowering behind a 50%-off rack in the ready-to-wear half of Mission Creek Creations, hunched down a little lower and whispered prayerfully, “No, no.Please, say no…”“Cold tea sounds wonderful,” James Campbell replied.Mary winced and scrunched down even farther behind the rack.“Say, I’ll get it myself,” she chanted low, willing the big, handsome man in the pink brocade chair to repeat after her.“I’ll get it myself, I’ll get it myself….”But the object of Mary’s impossible months-long crush said no such thing.And Margaret—Mary’s boss and dearest friend in the world—advised brightly, “Mary will get it for you—Mary?”To Mary, the silence that followed was truly deafening.And acutely painful.No escape, she was thinking, not this time.That one other time he came in the shop, back in January, she’d been quicker.She’d darted into the stockroom and stayed there until he was gone.She’d been lucky; no one seemed to notice her absence.But today, clearly, her luck had run out.“Mary?” Margaret called again, a faint note of concern creeping in.Ridiculous, Mary thought.I am ridiculous.Adjusting her glasses more firmly on the bridge of her nose and then nervously smoothing her hands down the front of her gray skirt, Mary straightened from her crouch, thinking, As if he’ll even notice me.As if he even knows that I exist.A customer near the shoe display a few feet away gave Mary a distinctly puzzled look as she emerged from behind the sale rack.Mary slanted the woman a sheepish smile and then hurried to answer Margaret’s call.“She must have gone in back,” Margaret was saying as Mary popped around the end of the half-wall that marked off ready-to-wear from the Mission Creek Creations originals side of the shop.“Uh.No.I’m right here.” Her voice was tight and absurdly squeaky—but at least she’d managed to get the words out.“Ah.” Margaret smiled benignly.She seemed completely unaware that her assistant had been huddled behind last season’s leftovers, hoping against hope to avoid the possibility of coming face-to-face with the man who haunted her dreams.“There you are.Will you get Mr.Campbell a glass of cold tea?”“Oh.Yes.Right away.” Whew [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]