Janice Lynn – New York Doc to Blushing Bride (страница 1)
‘Fun, witty and sexy… A heartfelt, sensual and compelling read.’
‘A sweet and beautiful romance that will steal your heart.’
“I noticed,” he whispered back, in resigned acknowledgement of her feelings toward him.
“Even if you
Sloan’s entire body went stiff. Her breathing was still even and her body hadn’t moved away from where she’d spooned with his. Was she awake?
“You think I’m sexy?” he asked, curious as to whether she’d respond and, if so, what she’d say.
“You are so hot you melt my insides just looking at you—but don’t think I’ll ever tell you that,” she answered, her body still relaxed against his. “I won’t, because I don’t like you.”
Asleep. She was talking to him in her sleep. No way would she have just said that and not gone all tense if she were awake.
Sloan grinned. It no longer mattered that Cara didn’t like him, because apparently she was as physically aware of him as he was of her. Somehow, at that moment, that seemed a lot more important in the grand scheme of life than merely being liked.
“Goodnight, Cara,” he whispered against her hair, brushing his lips against its silkiness in a soft kiss. “We’re going to have this conversation when you’re awake, because looking at you melts my insides, too, and I
It’s funny how real life bleeds over into the imaginary worlds we authors create. Cara and Sloan’s story is definitely an example of that. A while back my mentor and dear friend died—the best doctor and one of the greatest men I’ve ever known—and in this story Cara is dealing with the loss of her father—a man much like my dear friend. Only Cara’s father’s death has set into play a whirlwind of changes that put Cara’s life and heart into a tailspin.
Sloan might be my favourite hero I’ve ever written…
I had so much fun watching the relationship unfold between these two, as each learns what it means to love someone and to love each other.
As always, I love to hear from my readers. You can reach me at Janice@janicelynn.net or find out what I’ve been up to via Facebook.
Happy reading!
JANICE LYNN has a Masters in Nursing from Vanderbilt University, and works as a nurse practitioner in a family practice. She lives in the southern United States with her husband, their four children, their Jack Russell—appropriately named Trouble—and a lot of unnamed dust bunnies that have moved in since she started her writing career.
To find out more about Janice and her writing visit janicelynn.com.
New York Doc to Blushing Bride
Janice Lynn
To Abby, my daughter, an amazing young woman whom I hope reaches for the stars without ever forgetting her inner dreamer. Love you, Baby Girl!
Table of Contents
AT FIRST GLANCE, the slim redhead sitting on the funeral chapel’s front pew epitomized poise and grace. But as she politely accepted the sympathy being expressed her fingers clenched and unclenched around the crumpled tissue in her hand. Dr. Sloan Trenton would like to hold her hand, let her cling to him to help her get through the next few days, to share the pain they both felt.
No matter how much he felt he knew Dr. Cara Conner, she saw him as a stranger.
Only she wasn’t a stranger to him.
From the time Sloan had joined the Bloomberg, Alabama family medicine practice the year before, Preston had enthusiastically talked about his amazing daughter who worked in a downtown Manhattan emergency room. That must be why Sloan had thought of her so much since he had officially met her only yesterday.
He’d stopped by Preston’s house to offer his sympathies. His heart had raced like crazy when he’d rung her doorbell, knowing he was finally going to meet her. Despite his exhaustion, his grief over Preston’s heart attack, he hadn’t been able to stay away. He’d had to go to her, to offer his condolences. He felt as if his own heart had been ripped to shreds at the death of a man who’d treated him as a son. Something Sloan had never had anyone do, blood kin or otherwise.
Probably that was why he felt such a connection to Cara.
Regardless of the reason, he’d been shocked at Preston’s daughter’s reaction.
She hadn’t been out-and-out rude, but she hadn’t been receptive to his visit, either, had failed to even invite him into the house and had failed to hide her dislike. He’d stood on Preston’s front porch, a house the man had given him a key to, and he’d felt like an awkward inconvenience in Cara’s world, like an outsider in a place where he’d, up to that point, finally felt at home.
Maybe it was just grief making her so prickly toward him. After all, she’d just lost her father. Still, his gut instinct warned her reaction ran much deeper than grief over Preston’s death.
Sloan swallowed the lump that formed in his throat every time the reality that his mentor and best friend was gone hit him. He moved closer to the brushed steel casket he’d stood vigil by all evening.
Dr. Preston J. Conner had been the best man and doctor Sloan had ever known. He’d been the doctor Sloan aspired to be like. No matter how much he tried, he’d never be half the physician Preston had been.
Just fifteen feet away, Cara stood, wobbling slightly in her black stilettos and slim skirt. Sloan moved forward, determined to catch her if she didn’t straighten. Without glancing his way, she headed out of the room, unaware that he couldn’t drag his gaze away from her more than a few seconds at a time.
He excused himself from the bank president and a local preacher who had been carrying on a conversation around him and he followed Cara.
Leaving the large old Victorian-style house that had served as one of Bloomberg’s two funeral parlors for more than a hundred years, she slipped around to the side garden.
If Sloan followed her, was that outright stalkerish or just the action of a man who was worried about a woman who had just experienced great loss?