Sultry. Mary Baxter Lynn
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He was too old for her, in years and in experience.
As far as the world was concerned, he’d lived a lifetime compared to her.
He had to stop thinking of her in such a personal way. More than that, he had to get her out of his place now, before he did something he would regret for a long time to come.
He didn’t want to lose his job. He liked working here. He had hoped to remain here as long as he wanted. When he got bored he would move on. That was the way he liked it—no ties that bound, no one to worry about but himself.
Until he’d seen Lindsay, that is.
He wanted her. No use denying that any longer. But he wanted a lot of things he couldn’t have. Lindsay was just another in a long list.
“Good dialog, provocative chapter endings that literally force a page turn, and a streamlined writing style…”
—Library Journal on One Summer Evening
Sultry
Mary Lynn
Baxter
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
Special thanks to my friend Dr. Laura Horne
for coming to my rescue with her medical expertise.
Contents
One
Summer 2000
“Okay, how badly is he really hurt?”
Lindsay Newman tried to keep the tremor out of her voice, but she couldn’t. Her father, a retired heart surgeon, had been injured in an automobile accident. She was afraid the truth concerning his condition had been kept from her.
“Like Tim told you on the phone, it’s not serious.” Peter Ballinger frowned, knitting his thick, dark brows together. “Cooper’s not serious. He’s going to be all right.”
Lindsay peered at her friend Peter long and hard, trying to pick up on any hint that he was lying to her. Her efforts proved futile. Underneath his bland but handsome facade, his conviction didn’t appear to waver. It was then that her insides seemed to turn loose. Before they had been tied in tiny knots. Now she could breathe and function like a human.
“Ah, here are your bags.”
Lindsay looked on as Peter motioned for a bellman to tackle the three pieces of large luggage, all the while continuing to breathe deeply. She couldn’t believe her trip to London with a couple of friends had ended on such a frantic note.
She had been gone almost four weeks when her brother Timothy called and told her about their father’s accident. She had taken the first plane out. Yet it seemed like an interminable amount of time had passed since she’d boarded that jet at Heathrow and arrived in Garnet, Mississippi.
It