HIS RING,
HER BABY
MAXINE SULLIVAN
HIS BRIDE FOR
THE TAKING
SANDRA HYATT
HIS RING,
HER BABY
MAXINE SULLIVAN
“Marriage is what you were aiming for, wasn’t it?”
She quickly shook her head. “No! I didn’t. I—”
“Enough lying. You’re trying to get someone to marry you and you’ll use any means—any person —to keep your son.” His lips twisted. “I guess I’m just damn lucky I was the one on hand.”
“No! I have no intention of marrying you—or anyone else, for that matter. I’ve just lost my husband, for God’s sake,” she said, her voice catching.
“That didn’t stop you sleeping with me last night, did it?”
She sucked in a breath. “That was a mistake. We’ve already agreed not to repeat it.”
“I told you before I don’t like being used.”
“I’m sorry. If I could take it back without harming my son, then I would.”
A nerve pulsed near his temple. “Fine. I’ll be your fiancé for now. But I can tell you this, Vanessa. I will never be your husband.”
About the Author
MAXINE SULLIVAN credits her mother for her lifelong love of romance novels, so it was a natural extension for Maxine to want to write her own romances. She thinks there is nothing better than being a writer and is thrilled to be one of the few Australians to write for the Desire™ line.
Maxine lives in Melbourne, Australia, but over the years has travelled to New Zealand, the UK and the USA. In her own backyard, her husband’s job ensured they saw the diversity of the countryside, from the tropics to the Outback, country towns to the cities. She is married to Geoff, who has proven his hero status many times over the years. They have two handsome sons and an assortment of much-loved, previously abandoned animals.
Maxine would love to hear from you. She can be contacted through her website at www.maxinesullivan. com.
To my fabulous agent, Jennifer Schober.
Thanks for your support and enthusiasm, Jenn.
And to Catherine Evans for her helpful advice
with the Outback scenes. Thanks, Cath.
Dear Reader,
When my editor suggested I write an Outback story I was thrilled. Not only do I love writing characters drawn together for the sake of a child, but who wouldn’t want to write a story set in the romantic Outback? It’s a special place that deserves a special love story.
The term “Outback” is not a precise location, and even Australians don’t know exactly where the Outback starts and ends. Many Australians live in the cities, others in rural areas called “the bush", and farther out —somewhere “out back”—it turns into the “Outback". Where the line is drawn no one really knows. You’re suddenly there in the middle of something that entrances a person in a way you’ve never known before and you just know that this is it. It’s a bit like love.
Of course, Vanessa Hamilton and Kirk Deverill aren’t quite so quick to realise they have a love like no other. Vanessa has been mourning her late husband and is now busy trying to protect her son from his smothering grandparents. Kirk has a secret he won’t burden any woman with. There are just too many reasons for them not to fall in love.
And if that’s the case, then perhaps they’ll manage to escape the romantic lure of the Outback. Then again … perhaps they won’t. I hope you enjoy this story.
Happy reading!
Maxine
One
We’ve sold the motel.
Vanessa Hamilton was still reeling from her cousin’s news when she looked up and saw a luxury Range Rover pull up out front of the Jackaroo Plains Motel.
She groaned, wishing she could go think about her situation without interruption from either telephones or guests. Her son was taking his morning nap right now so the timing would have been perfect. She was pleased for Linda and Hugh, of course. It was what they wanted. But she’d only been here three weeks and had planned on staying at least six months.
And right now she had to put all her worry aside as she watched the man push open the glass door. Lord, he was certainly handsome enough to take any woman’s mind off her problems.
Or create one.
No one had taught her about these three Rs in school.
Rich.
Rugged.
Red-blooded.
He epitomized everything she imagined a wealthy outback male to be. From the tips of his brown leather boots, to bone-colored trousers and the light blue polo shirt a woman was tempted to rub against, to his wrist where an expensive Rolex glistened in the light.
He stopped in front of the reception desk, his blue eyes filling with masculine appreciation. “You’re new here,” he drawled.
She lifted her chin, annoyed with herself for finding him attractive. “Are you looking for a room?” she asked in her best no-nonsense voice, already knowing they had nothing suitable. The Plaza Hotel in New York was more his style.
Those blue eyes narrowed on her. “No.”
“If you’re looking to eat in the restaurant—”
“I’m not.”
“You’re not here for the gardener’s job, are you?” she said, knowing it sounded ridiculous but one never knew.
His low chuckle resonated with something inside her. Something she didn’t want to acknowledge.
“No, I’m not here for that, either.”
Suddenly she noticed his gaze dart to her left hand, noting her bare fingers. Uneasiness fluttered inside her stomach that he might think her single and
