Faking It. Dorie Graham

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Faking It - Dorie  Graham


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      She shouldn’t do this

      Erin had sworn off men…although, at this moment with her palm against Jack’s hard, warm chest, for the life of her she couldn’t remember why. Moving her hands in small circles, she worked her way along his torso, her pulse thudding as she traced his firm muscles. Desire flowed through her and she swallowed as he rolled back his head and a small moan of pleasure sounded from his throat.

      It wasn’t enough. She had to touch him.

      With quick twists of her fingers she undid his shirt, then laid her hands on his skin, hardly believing she could be so bold. Where was that resolve to remain single? Nowhere in sight.

      His gaze fell to her mouth and she could feel him fighting the urge to kiss her. She struggled herself. In that moment there wasn’t anything that made sense in the world but joining her mouth to his. She pressed her lips to his, where she paused for just a heartbeat while their breath mixed, the warmth and excitement and anticipation almost unbearable.

      So much for swearing off men.

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      Dear Reader,

      As I was growing up, the children of my family split into two distinct groups—the big kids and the little kids. Falling directly in the middle of the seven of us, I could have gone either way. To my frustration, though, I was relegated to the latter group, always left out of the big kids’ fun. As a result, I completely relate to the issues my heroine in Faking It, Erin McClellan, faces as a younger sister.

      I hope you like my story of how Erin struggles to gain acceptance and carve her own place in her family. I enjoyed matching her with Jack Langston, a hero I wouldn’t mind meeting in real life.

      If you get a chance, write me and let me know what you thought of this story and the SEXUAL HEALING miniseries. I value my reader feedback. You can reach me at [email protected] or P.O. Box 769012, Roswell, Georgia 30076. And don’t forget to check out my Web site at www.doriegraham.com.

      Best wishes,

      Dorie Graham

      Faking It

      Dorie Graham

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Rain, Newt and Lily, you are by far the most influential group of sisters to have touched my life. You challenge me in ways that help me grow, fill me with pride in all your accomplishments and bring me more joy than I could ever have imagined.

       I love you for always. This one’s for you.

      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      1

      SHE WAS TYPHOID MARY reincarnated. Erin McClellan stared in horror as Trent Gray heaved the contents of his stomach into the vase she’d shoved into his hands just in the nick of time. The flowers that had occupied the vase lay limply beside a discarded condom wrapper. Guilt swamped her. She stared at the wrapper as Trent bent again over the vase, clutching his stomach.

      If only she could blot out the sounds of his agony as he heaved again. She could kick herself for letting this happen. Hadn’t she learned with Ryan, the last man she’d slept with?

      Trent raised his head and she took the vase and set it aside as he flopped weakly onto the pillow. How could she have done this to such a nice man?

      If only her sister’s friend, Josh, hadn’t introduced them and Trent hadn’t been willing to take over for Josh, who’d been helping her with her design projects. If only she and Trent hadn’t spent all that time together. If only Trent hadn’t talked with her late into the night about all her dreams and her worries, making her feel first safe, then vulnerable in a way that had her melting into his arms. If only his lips hadn’t been so soft, his kisses so hot.

      If only she hadn’t given in to temptation and slept with the man.

      “I’m so sorry.” She mopped his forehead with a cool cloth.

      He raised his bleary eyes to her. “Don’t worry. It isn’t your fault.”

      If only he knew.

      “Well, I feel responsible.” She held the vase away from her. “I’ll get you a drink of water.”

      He nodded. She left him to pad down the hall to her kitchen. She left the vase to soak in the sink, then poured him a glass of water.

      As she walked slowly to her room, her mind drifted over her past relationships. That first time with that guy from the park that neither of her sisters, Tess or Nikki, knew about had been surprising at best. She’d been concerned when he’d become ill after they first made love but had chalked it up to bad timing.

      The second time he’d gotten ill after their lovemaking, she’d thought he’d just needed more time to recuperate. When it happened again after some time had passed, she’d placed the blame squarely on his shoulders, thinking it was some strange quirk on his part. How shocked she’d been when he’d broken up with her, saying he couldn’t take it anymore.

      Then she’d met Pete and the same thing had happened again. She’d somehow talked herself into believing it was all some weird coincidence. Surely none of this was her fault.

      Pete had come and gone rather quickly and she’d begun to think it was all an unpleasant dream. Then she’d met Ryan, and after four days of him being too sick for her to sneak him out of her bedroom, she’d known.

      It was her.

      “Here.” She handed Trent the water.

      He took a feeble sip, then shook his head. “This is so embarrassing. I swear, I never get sick.”

      “Don’t worry about it.” She looked anywhere but at him.

      He wrestled himself into a sitting position. “I should probably go.”

      “Can you drive?” She cringed at the note of hope in her voice.

      “I think so. I’m sorry about this, Erin.”

      “You have no need to apologize.” She helped him dress, shamefully grateful to have him leaving. If she had to go through another catastrophe as she’d gone through with Ryan, she might just jump out the window.

      “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Guilt returned to weigh her down as she walked Trent to the door. “I can drive you…or you could stay.”

      His eyes widened. “No, it isn’t that far.” He gripped the doorjamb. “I can make it. I’ll recuperate faster in my own bed.”

      “Right. I’m sorry again about…” She gestured lamely, feeling three times an idiot and hating herself for causing him such discomfort.

      After nodding awkwardly, he lurched out the door. Relieved beyond measure, she turned the dead bolt behind him. At least her sisters had moved out. The thought of discussing her little problem with them sent dread twisting through her. They’d never taken her seriously. Why would this be different?


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