Trouble In Tourmaline. Jane Toombs
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“Maybe we should set a few other ground rules if we’re to be friends,” Amy said.
David grinned at her. “Ones we can keep like the first rule or ones we can’t?”
“No more kisses. I mean it,” she sputtered. “It’s just chemistry. Hormones. Pheromones.”
“All of the above. But how does that stop me from wanting to haul you into my arms right now?”
“If we’re able to ignore it, the temptation will eventually fade.”
That raised his eyebrows. “If you believe that, I don’t know how you ever got to be a psychologist.”
“I can do anything I make up my mind to do,” Amy said coolly.
She’d just laid down a challenge. David smiled. He hadn’t felt like taking up any challenges for over a year, but he sure as hell meant to run with this one.
Dear Reader,
April may bring showers, but it also brings in a fabulous new batch of books from Silhouette Special Edition! This month treat yourself to the beginning of a brand-new exciting royal continuity, CROWN AND GLORY. We get the regal ball rolling with Laurie Paige’s delightful tale The Princess Is Pregnant! This romance is fair to bursting with passion and other temptations.
I’m pleased to offer The Groom’s Stand-In by Gina Wilkins—a fascinating story that is sure to keep readers on the edge of their seats…and warm their hearts in the process. Peggy Webb is no stranger herself to heartwarming romance with the next installment of her miniseries THE WESTMORELAND DIARIES. In Force of Nature, a beautiful photojournalist encounters a primitive man in the wilderness and must find a way to tame his oh-so-wild heart.
In The Man in Charge, Judith Lyons gives us a tender reunion romance where an endangered chancellor’s daughter finds herself being guarded by the man she’s never been able to forget—a rugged mercenary who’s about to learn he’s the father of their child! And in Wendy Warren’s new sensation Dakota Bride, readers will relish the theme of learning to love again, as a young widow dreams of love and marriage with a handsome stranger. In addition, you’ll find an intriguing case of mistaken identity in Jane Toombs’s Trouble in Tourmaline, where a world-weary lawyer takes a breather from his fast-paced life and finds his sights brightened by a lovely psychologist, who takes him for a gardener. You won’t want to put this story down!
So kick back and enjoy the fantasy of falling in love, and be sure to return next month for another winning selection of emotionally satisfying and uplifting stories of love, life and family!
Best,
Karen Taylor Richman
Senior Editor
Trouble in Tourmaline
Jane Toombs
To:
My son-in-law Steve, the lawyer My grand-nephew Dale, the psychologist My friend Denny, the psychiatrist My five-year-old violinist granddaughter, Kate
JANE TOOMBS
lives most of the year on the shore of Lake Superior in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula along with a man from her past and their crazy calico cat, Kinko. In the winter, though, they all defect to Florida for three months. In addition to writing, Jane enjoys knitting and gardening.
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
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter One
D avid Severin parked the Tourmaline Nursery truck he’d borrowed in front of his aunt Gert’s old Victorian home/office and began unloading lilac and forsythia shrubs. Late May being warm in the high desert of northern Nevada, he shed his T-shirt, wishing he’d put on shorts rather than jeans. He knew very well his psychiatrist aunt’s insistence that he do a complete revamp of her landscaping was no more than a psychological ploy to get him out sweating in the fresh air, but what the hell, at least she wasn’t trying to psychoanalyze him. Actually, he was enjoying the work as much as he’d enjoyed anything in the past year, so maybe she knew what she was doing.
Yesterday he’d dug up an old hedge and hauled the scraggly looking shrubs away. Now he needed to dump some topsoil in the deep trench he’d had to dig and then put in these new ones. After he finished with the topsoil, David noticed a fine layer of dirt clinging to his sweaty torso, so he strode over to the hose and sprayed himself clean. He was shutting the water off when a woman’s voice said, “Excuse me.”
Turning, he saw a stunning blonde in a pale blue suit that skimmed all the right places. She gazed at him with eyes as green as the forsythia leaves, asking, “Is this Dr. Severin’s office?”
Realizing belatedly he’d been staring at her like a thirsty man at a cool drink, he gathered his wits. He figured she might be what Gert called a detail person from a drug company, wanting his aunt to try some new antidepressant, or she could be a patient. Either way, she was out of luck.
He spoke brusquely to cover his momentary lapse. “The doctor isn’t in town, won’t be back for two days.”
“Oh.” He could hear the disappointment in her voice.
Maybe she was a patient, in which case he ought to try to help her. Reluctantly—he was definitely not ready to get even minimally involved with a woman right now—he muttered, “Is there anything I can do?”
Her gaze drifted over him and she hesitated for a long moment. “Is there a good place in town to get a sandwich and a cold drink?”
From out of town, then. Gert had quite a few patients who were. He hadn’t heard a car drive up earlier, so he glanced around, noticing a blue SUV parked so closely behind the nursery truck that he wasn’t sure they weren’t touching.
“The best place is hard to find,” he said more gruffly than he intended, still wondering whether she had, in fact, hit the back of his truck.
“I can follow directions.” Her tart tone amused him, snapping her back into focus.
“This is a well hidden hole-in-the-wall. Easier to walk there from here than drive.”
“I’m capable of walking.” This time her words held a definite edge, which, for some reason, made him ignore his uneasiness at being attracted to her.
“Easier to show you than tell you,” he said.
Amy Simon eyed the dark-haired man uncertainly as he grabbed a T-shirt from the porch railing and yanked it over his head. In the back of her mind she thought it was a shame to cover that muscular torso glistening with droplets of water. Definitely a hunk. No wonder she’d been momentarily attracted—any woman would have been—until his brusque manner turned her off. Now he was practically ordering her to go with him to wherever the hole-in-the-wall was, something she didn’t care for, either. It reminded her unpleasantly of the psychologist