Cinderella and the Playboy / The Texan's Happily-Ever-After

by Lois Faye Dyer

  Muscles tight with the effort it had taken to keep from throwing Patrick physically out of his office, Chance forcibly unclenched his fists and rolled his shoulders. Adrenaline still surged through his veins and he strode to the window to look down on the parking lot below. He waited until Patrick exited the building, climbed into a sedan and drove with a rush of speed out of the lot.

  “So much for Patrick Evans,” Chance muttered aloud. He knew a deep sense of satisfaction that the man no longer had any claim on Jennifer or Annie. The documents he’d signed only legally established what Chance was convinced had always been true—Evans had never really loved Jennifer or their daughter.

  What a fool the man is, he thought. If he’d ever been lucky enough to have a wife and child like Jennifer and Annie, he never would have let them go.

  And I won’t now, he thought with sudden clarity and fierce determination. He wanted Jennifer and her little girl in his life permanently, here in his home, sharing his life. He wanted the legal right to protect them both—and that meant marriage and Annie’s adoption.

  He didn’t know how long he’d been thinking of Jennifer as his but he knew he wasn’t going to wait to make her his.

  He just hoped she felt the same.

  He caught up the file and headed for the door, intent on driving directly to Jennifer’s apartment to talk to her. He just stepped over the threshold when his secretary hurried toward him.

  “Chance, there’s an emergency with Mrs. MacQuillen. Her husband called 911 and the ambulance is taking her directly to the hospital.”

  “I’m on my way.” Chance strode off down the hallway, punching in numbers on his cell phone as he went. Much as he wanted to see Jennifer, his patient came first. Ralph MacQuillen answered on the third ring, his voice distracted. “Ralph, this is Dr. Demetrios.”

  Chance calmed the anxious husband and told him they’d meet at the hospital. Moments later, he drove out of the parking lot, knowing it may be hours before he could talk to Jennifer, his mind switching to Mrs. MacQuillen’s pregnancy.

  Earlier that same day, Jennifer tried to reach Chance at his office but was told he was out. Dashing out the door to catch the bus to work, she wondered where he was and hoped he’d come by the apartment later that evening. She didn’t have a class and over the past three weeks, she’d come to count on seeing Chance on her free nights.

  I wonder if that means this is a relationship, she wondered.

  Later that evening, the hour grew late and Chance didn’t appear. Disappointed, Jennifer bathed Annie before reading two chapters from an Eloise book and turning off the light.

  Alone in the darkened living room, she clicked through channels on the TV, finding nothing that caught her interest.

  She missed Chance, she realized. Resolutely, she located a mystery series and tried to concentrate on the story.

  Just after 10:00 p.m., someone rapped on her door. After checking her visitor through the door’s peephole, Jennifer pulled open the door.

  “Hi.” She held the door wide and Chance entered.

  He pushed the door shut and dragged her close, wrapping her tightly against his body while his mouth covered hers.

  “Hi,” he rasped when he finally lifted his head. “Did you miss me?”

  She laughed. “It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours but yes, I missed you. I thought you would be here earlier.”

  “I’ve been busy,” he told her. “Making sure your ex-husband can never threaten you or Annie again.”

  Her eyes widened. “Chance, what have you done?” Worry veed her brows as she frowned. “You didn’t buy him off, did you? I didn’t want you to give in to his blackmail. If you helped him get a job at the institute, you’d never be able to trust him.”

  “I didn’t do what he wanted,” Chance assured her. He reached into the inner pocket of his leather jacket, removed a folded sheaf of papers and handed them to her. “These are for you.”

  Confused, Jennifer took the papers, unfolding them as Chance shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it over the seat of the rocking chair.

  She read the legal documents twice, hardly daring to believe what she thought the wording meant. The documents were signed by Patrick and stated that he abandoned his legal parental rights to Annie and specifically agreed to an adoption.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she said, stunned. “How did you convince Patrick to do this?”

  “It was simple,” he told her. “I threatened to tell certain influential people at the best research facilities in his field that he wasn’t a good candidate.” Chance shrugged. “I’m not without influence in the arena and he knows it. So he agreed to give up Annie.” His face tightened, a muscle flexing along his jawline. “In return, I said I’d refrain from discussing his lack of character with potential employers. And I didn’t think he and the institute were a good fit.”

  “Oh, Chance…” Jennifer’s mouth trembled and tears welled, threatening to spill down her cheeks.

  “Don’t cry, honey.” He pulled her into his arms and she burrowed closer, pressing her tear-damp face against his throat. He cupped the back of her head in one big hand. “I’m not sure you’re ready to hear this, but I need to say it. I want to marry you and adopt Annie.”

  She tipped her head back, her gaze searching his. His dark brown eyes were fierce with conviction.

  “Say yes, Jennifer. I’m in love for the first—and last—time in my life. Living without you isn’t an option.” His arms tightened, pressing her closer.

  “I didn’t know—you didn’t tell me you loved me,” she whispered.

  A wry half smile curved his mouth. “I didn’t think you were ready to hear it. Plus, I’ve never felt this way about a woman before, not the way I have you. I guess I thought it was obvious I was head over heels in love with you.”

  “Not to me,” she murmured. “But maybe that’s because I’m head over heels in love with you, too.”

  His fingers flexed in reaction, stroking her sensitized skin.

  “I’m glad you said that,” he muttered with a sigh of relief. “Because if you didn’t, I had no plan for what to do next.”

  “What was your plan if I said yes?” she asked, smiling as she turned her head and kissed the warm, strong column of his throat, breathing in the faint trace of cologne and a scent that was his alone. Her heart raced, thudding in her chest.

  “I was hoping you’d take me to bed.” He tilted his head back to look down at her, arousal painting a slash of color over the arch of his cheekbones. “I haven’t pressed you because I know you vowed Annie would never wake and find you in bed with someone—and I respect that decision. But we’re going to be married, as soon as possible, I hope. And I don’t want to leave you tonight.”

  “And after tonight?” she asked, holding on to the moment.

  “I want us to elope—you and Annie and me. And I want you to move in with me. I have plenty of room at my house.” He smoothed the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone. “Say yes, Jennifer. I don’t want to spend any more nights without you.”

  “Yes.” She smiled through misty tears. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  He grinned, dark eyes lighting. “I feel like I’ve just won the lottery.” He pressed a hard kiss against her mouth. “Annie’s going to love living with Butch and he’ll be crazy about having her there,” he said when he lifted his head.

  “We’ll have trouble separating them at night,” she agreed.

  “I vote for not fighting that battle. Let’s just move Butch’s bed into her room,” Chance said dryly.

  “You know Annie so well.” She laughed.

  With decision, she stepped back, taking his hand in hers. “Come to bed with me, Chance,” she murmured, relishing the words. “And stay until the morning. When Annie gets up, we can all have breakfast together and tell her the news.”

  His eyes darkened to black, fierce emotion filling them.

  She led him into the bedroom, to her turned-down sheets and comfort
able bed—the bed that she’d slept in alone since before Annie was born.

  But no longer. Chance’s broad shoulders and big body would crowd her bed just as his love filled her heart.

  As he tugged her T-shirt over her head and bent to take her mouth with his, Jennifer was swamped with a rush of emotion. Chance made her feel all the things she never thought she’d be—happy, safe, cherished, challenged and loved.

  Just before he stripped off their clothes and lowered her onto the bed, she vowed she would love and cherish him, as well. The future glowed with promise, bright and beckoning.

  It seemed she’d finally found her Prince Charming.

  THE TEXAN’S HAPPILY-EVER-AFTER

  KAREN ROSE SMITH

  Dear Reader,

  I’ll always remember the first time my husband and I really talked. In sharing, we connected on a deep level, inspiring trust that has lasted throughout the years. To form that bond, we had to become vulnerable to each other.

  My hero, Shep McGraw, is a strong, silent Texan. A marriage of convenience teaches him he must lower his guard to trust his new wife. By risking vulnerability. He discovers the love and understanding that can lead to happily ever after.

  I hope you enjoy Shep’s transformation from guarded single dad to my heroine Raina’s white knight. Shep and Raina’s romance is Book 5 in my THE BABY EXPERTS series.

  Readers can learn more about THE BABY EXPERTS at www.karenrosesmith.com.

  All my best,

  Karen Rose Smith

  About the Author

  Award-winning and bestselling author KAREN ROSE SMITH has seen more than sixty-five novels published since 1992. She grew up in Pennsylvania’s Susquehanna Valley and still lives a stone’s throw away with her husband—who was her college sweetheart—and their two cats. She especially enjoys researching and visiting the West and Southwest where her latest series of books is set. Readers can receive updates on Karen’s releases and write to her through her website at www. karenrosesmith.com or at P.O. Box 1545, Hanover, PA 17331, USA.

  To Sis and Bern, our son’s godparents.

  Thanks for the difference you made in his life.

  Happy birthday, Sis. Bern, we miss you.

  Chapter One

  Shep McGraw hurried to the emergency-room door. In his arms, two-year-old Manuel let out a cry that echoed in the hospital’s parking lot.

  Tension and worry tightened Shep’s chest. He’d been through this before with Manuel’s earaches. Thank goodness Dr. Raina Gibson, the boy’s ear, nose and throat specialist, had been on call for her practice tonight. He thought about his two other sons, who were with their nanny. They hadn’t liked him leaving this late at night.

  As Shep rushed through the automatic glass doors, he remembered another fateful E.R. visit many, many years ago. He shoved that out of his mind and hugged Manuel closer.

  The woman in charge at the registration desk looked him over—from his tan Stetson to his fine leather boots—and he had to rein in his frustration with red tape. “My name’s Shep McGraw. I’m meeting Dr. Gibson here to treat my…son.”

  “Mr. McGraw, if you’ll have a seat—”

  Manuel’s crying had tapered off slightly, but now he screwed up his cute little round face and howled loud enough to scare his black wavy hair into disarray.

  Shep shifted Manuel to his shoulder. “My boy needs someone to look at him now.” He was about to add that the Lubbock hospital had all of his information on file, when Dr. Gibson came through a side door and crossed to the desk.

  Although Manuel’s crying still rent the waiting area, the beautiful doctor’s appearance impacted Shep as it always did. Her Native American heritage was attractively obvious in the angles of her cheekbones and chin. Tonight she’d pulled her long black hair back into a low ponytail and clasped it with a beaded barrette. The white coat she wore molded to her long legs as she hurried toward him.

  She greeted the woman at the desk as she reached for Manuel. “I’ll take him back, Flo.”

  After patting Manuel’s back and making soothing noises that quieted him, she said to Shep, “Give Flo your insurance card so she can put through the paperwork.” Then she headed for the door leading to the examination cubicles, motioning him to follow.

  Shep took out his insurance card, slapped it onto the desk and followed Raina. He couldn’t help but admire her graceful stride, the straightness of her shoulders, even as she held Manuel and headed for the exam room. He had to smile at the sneakers she wore that made her look more like a runner than a doctor.

  All was quiet for the moment in this part of the E.R. wing. Manuel’s cries had faded to tiny hiccups. Shep felt so sad sometimes for this little boy, who’d been neglected, taken away from his mother and put in a foster home. Shep knew all about foster homes firsthand, though there was no indication the couple who’d cared for Manuel was anything like the foster parents Shep had lived with.

  At the door to the exam room, Dr. Gibson paused and waited for Shep to precede her inside. Although Shep considered himself more cowboy than gentleman, he motioned her to go ahead of him. With a small smile and a quick nod, she did. But when she passed him, he caught the scent of lemon and his stomach twisted into a knot, as it did whenever he got too close to her. He didn’t get too close to her if he could help it—for lots of very good reasons.

  Raina glanced at Shep as she settled Manuel on the gurney. “On the phone you told me this started about an hour ago?”

  “Yes. Before I put him in his crib. At first I thought he was just overtired or didn’t want to go to bed. But then he started pulling on his ear, so I took his temperature and saw he had a fever.”

  “I’ll take it again,” she assured him with quiet efficiency. Her gaze met his. The earth seemed to shake a little and they both quickly looked away.

  With coiled energy wound tight inside him, Shep moved to the gurney to hold Manuel. He hadn’t intended it, but somehow his hands got tangled up with hers before she pulled them away from the little boy. Their gazes connected again…and this time held. Shep’s blood rushed fast, and in that instant, he thought he saw returned interest in the pretty doctor’s very dark brown eyes.

  A moment later, he guessed he was mistaken. In a small town like Sagebrush, Texas, where they both lived—about fifteen minutes from Lubbock, where this hospital was located—certain people had a higher gossip profile than others. Dr. Gibson was one of them.

  He’d asked his nanny, Eva, if she knew any particulars about the doctor, and he still remembered what Eva had said. “Her husband was a firefighter in New York City. He died saving others on September eleventh. Somehow, she picked up her life and finished her schooling, then returned here to be with her family. I can only imagine what she’s gone through, and it’s not something I ever want to even think about going through.”

  As Shep studied Raina Gibson now, he saw no signs of a tragic past—unless it had carved those tiny lines under her eyes and fostered the ever-present quiet and calm he sensed about her.

  She went to the counter, where she took an ear thermometer from its holder. When she returned to the table, she focused solely on Manuel. “This little guy has been through so much. I feel so sorry for him. Another ear infection is the last thing he needs.” She cut Shep a sideways glance. “Or you need. How are Joey and Roy?” She had treated eight-year-old Joey last year for a sinus infection that wouldn’t quit.

  “They’re good. They get upset when Manuel’s sick, though. Roy’s afraid he’ll lose more of his hearing.”

  Raina studied Manuel’s temperature and frowned. “It’s one hundred one.” Seconds later she was examining the toddler with the otoscope and then her stethoscope. Finally, she gave Shep her verdict. “I don’t like the looks of this, Mr. McGraw.”

  “Shep,” he corrected her, not for the first time. After all, Manuel had seen her at least three times over the past six months.

  Now she didn’t avoid his gaze, but looked him directly in the eyes. That was
his first clue he wasn’t going to like what she had to say.

  “Okay, Shep.”

  That was the second clue. He had the feeling she’d used his first name to soften the blow.

  “I’ll give you a prescription again for Manuel, to get this cleared up. But I have to recommend that you let me do a procedure to put tubes in his ears. I’m afraid if we don’t, he’ll lose his hearing altogether.”

  Before he caught himself, Shep swore. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just don’t want to put him through anything else.” He picked up his son from the table, easily lifted him to his shoulder where Manuel snuggled against his collarbone.

  Raina’s gaze was sympathetic, her voice gentle. “I know what he’s dealt with already. But he’s in your care now, and I can see that you love him. You have to think beyond the procedure to when he’s three or four. You have to do what’s best for him long-term.”

  Shep patted Manuel’s back. Finally, he said, “Tell me what’s involved.”

  Taking a few steps closer, Raina stopped within arm’s reach. “The surgery’s called a myringotomy. I make a tiny incision in the eardrum and any fluid will be removed. Then I’ll insert a tympanostomy tube into the drum to keep the middle ear aerated. We’ll leave the tubes in from six months to several years.”

  She was close enough that Shep was aware of her body heat as well as his. “Will he have to have surgery to remove them again?”

  Tilting her head, she ran her hand over Manuel’s hair then brought her gaze back to Shep. “No. Eventually they’ll extrude from the eardrum and fall into the ear canal. I’ll be able to remove them during a routine office visit, or they’ll just fall out of his ears.”

  Shep could hardly imagine his small son in this big hospital, with medical personnel caring for him. “And you believe we have to do this?”

  “Shep, Manuel has already lost some hearing. You know that from the assessment I did. I’m afraid if we don’t do this, he’ll have speech problems, too.”