Her mouth stayed closed and motionless, its shape so perfect, its color so soft and pink. His center of gravity dropped low into his groin, which felt as heavy as base metal.

      Kiss her, Jared.

      Just once.

      Goodbye, maybe.

      Goodbye, more than likely.

      Don’t think about that. Don’t think about anything. Just do it. Kiss her. She’s waiting for it, isn’t she? That’s what the frown and the big, troubled eyes and the still, expectant mouth are all about. That’s the reason for the little lap of her tongue tip at the seam of her lips. That’s the reason for the sharp in-breath.

      Isn’t it?

      No.

      It wasn’t.

      “Small complication in all this, Jared,” she said. “It’s only fair to tell you. I’m pregnant.”

      Jared had never been sucker punched before. He’d had no idea that anything could flatten a man’s lungs so fast.

      Dear Reader,

      It’s hot and sunny in my neck of the woods—in other words, perfect beach reading weather! And we at Silhouette Special Edition are thrilled to start off your month with the long-awaited new book in New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber’s Navy series, Navy Husband. It features a single widowed mother; her naval-phobic sister, assigned to care for her niece while her sister is in the service; and a handsome lieutenant commander who won’t take no for an answer! In this case, I definitely think you’ll find this book worth the wait….

      Next, we begin our new inline series, MOST LIKELY TO…, the story of a college reunion and the about-to-be-revealed secret that is going to change everyone’s lives. In The Homecoming Hero Returns by Joan Elliott Pickart, a young man once poised for athletic stardom who chose marriage and fatherhood instead finds himself face-to-face with the road not taken. In Stella Bagwell’s next book in her MEN OF THE WEST series, Redwing’s Lady, a Native American deputy sheriff and a single mother learn they have more in common than they thought. The Father Factor by Lilian Darcy tells the story of the reunion between a hotshot big-city corporate lawyer who’s about to discover the truth about his father—and a woman with a secret of her own. If you’ve ever bought a lottery ticket, wondering, if just once, it could be possible…be sure to grab Ticket to Love by Jen Safrey, in which a pizza waitress from Long Island is sure that if she isn’t the lucky winner, it must be the handsome stranger in town. Last, new-to-Silhouette author Jessica Bird begins THE MOOREHOUSE LEGACY, a miniseries based on three siblings who own an upstate New York inn, with Beauty and the Black Sheep. In it, responsible sister Frankie Moorehouse wonders if just this once she could think of herself first as soon as she lays eyes on her temporary new chef.

      So keep reading! And think of us as the dog days of August begin to set in….

      Toodles,

      Gail Chasan

      Senior Editor

       The Father Factor

       Lilian Darcy

       LILIAN DARCY

      has written over fifty books for Silhouette Romance and Harlequin Mills & Boon Medical Romance (Prescription Romance). Her first book for Silhouette appeared on the Waldenbooks Series Romance Bestsellers list, and she’s hoping readers go on responding strongly to her work. Happily married with four active children and a very patient cat, she enjoys keeping busy and could probably fill several more lifetimes with the things she likes to do—including cooking, gardening, quilting, drawing and traveling. She currently lives in Australia but travels to the United States as often as possible to visit family. Lilian loves to hear from readers. You can write to her at P.O. Box 381, Hackensack NJ 07602 or e-mail her at [email protected].

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Epilogue

       Chapter One

       “E xcuse me, I think you’ve given me a tad too much change.” Shallis Duncan held a handful of bills and coins toward the teenager at the checkout, but he continued to look goggle-eyed, openmouthed and blank-faced.

      “Huh?” he said.

      His glazed focus dropped to her where her cleavage would have been if she’d been wearing a bikini instead of a businesslike dove-gray suit. His mouth fell open a little farther, revealing his disappointment at such a chaste amount of fabric.

      “Too much change,” Shallis repeated patiently. “See? I gave you five dollars on a two-dollar-and-six-cent item, and you’ve given me forty-seven dollars and ninety-four cents back.” She tried a teasing, big sister kind of smile. “I don’t think this is what your boss wants from you.”

      “Oh. Right,” he answered vaguely. “Did you want to see him?”

      Okay. Still not getting through.

      She gave up.

      “Here.” She took his hand, turned it palm upward and dumped two twenties and five ones into it. His hand stayed frozen in place as he stared down at it. “Put it back in the till, okay?” she coached him. “And you have a good day, now.”

      Those last four words seemed to make some kind of low-wattage lightbulb click on in the young man’s head. He stopped looking at his hand. “Uh, yeah, have a good—” He frowned. Hadn’t someone just said that? “…uh, Miss Ameri—Miss Duncan,” he finished vaguely.

      On her way out of the drugstore with the tube of lip balm still in one hand and a leather briefcase in the other, Shallis sighed. At some point, surely, this kind of thing had to stop.

      But not yet, apparently.

      “Well, hey, it’s Hyattville’s very own home-grown princess!” said the man who’d just emerged from the real estate office she was passing.

      “Good morning, Mr. Delahunty,” she answered, digging the appropriate smile out of her extensive repertoire the way she might have dug the right lipstick out of a crammed makeup case.

      The law office of Abraham Starke beckoned to her, several doors down. It had slatted cedar blinds in the windows, a polished brass knocker and name plate on the door, and a facade of pretty, cream-painted nineteenth-century brick, trimmed in Wedgwood-blue.

      If she had pocketed that extra forty-five dollars in the drugstore like a felon, and left the unfortunate youth to explain the discrepancy to his boss, she would have missed crossing paths with Mr. Delahunty. By the time he’d appeared, she would already have gained the comparative safety of a private appointment with a man who was old enough to be her grandfather and was surely therefore not about to be impressed—or reduced to a gibbering heap—by former beauty queens.

      Should she conclude that sometimes crime did pay?

      Mr. Delahunty was her father’s assistant manager at the Douglas County Bank, so she couldn’t be rude. In fact,