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“Denise, I’m tired of beating around the bush here,” Redford said
“I want you in my bed tonight, but the choice is entirely yours.”
Desire flooded my body, rushing through my veins, awakening every nerve ending. The silence stretched between us for long seconds while my mind raced with uncertainty. “I…” I swallowed and tried again, not entirely sure what words might tumble out of my mouth. “I…excuse me.”
I escaped to the bathroom, closed the door behind me and leaned against it. I stared at myself in the mirror, touched my skin, my hair, concrete things that defined me. But what about the things I couldn’t see…those deep, dark desires that lurked in my heart? Those things defined me, too, whether I liked it or not.
I didn’t like it, knowing that my body could override my reason. But I couldn’t help but acknowledge how much I wanted Redford, how much I wanted to share his bed tonight. Worse, how much I needed to share his bed.
So with shaking hands I slipped my engagement ring from my finger and set it on the vanity. Then I opened the door, inhaled deeply and walked out into the bedroom…to my husband.
MILLS & BOON
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Dear Reader,
We all slip up sometime—we stumble, then recover and, hopefully, learn something in the process. But what if you can’t get over the biggest mistake of your life?
Denise Cooke married U.S. Marine Redford DeMoss three years ago in a quickie Vegas wedding after a whirlwind courtship. Their honeymoon was mind-boggling, but when Redford returned to his overseas duty and Denise returned to NYC, reality set in, and she had the marriage annulled. Except now she’s being reunited with her biggest mistake to resolve a tax issue and Redford looks better than ever…can she keep from making the same mistake twice?
Continuing with the characters I first introduced in “The Truth about Shoes and Men” on www.eHarlequin.com and in the Harlequin Temptation novel Cover Me, My Favorite Mistakeis a sexy romp about two mismatched lovers who begin to suspect that that the only thing worse than living with each other is living without each other. I hope you enjoy this book as much as I enjoyed writing it! Visit me at my Web site, www.stephaniebond.com. And please tell your friends about the wonderful love stories within the pages of Harlequin romance novels!
Much love and laughter,
Stephanie Bond
Stephanie Bond
My Favorite Mistake
Dear Reader,
An Evening To Remember… Those words evoke all kinds of emotions and memories. How do you plan a romantic evening with your guy that will help you get in touch with each other on every level?
Start with a great dinner that you cook together. Be sure to light several candles and put fresh flowers on the table. Enjoy a few glasses of wine and pick out your favorite music to set the mood. After dinner take the time to really talk to each other. Hold hands and snuggle on the sofa in front of the fireplace. And maybe take a few minutes to read aloud selected sexy scenes from your favorite Harlequin Blaze novel. After that, anything can happen….
That’s just one way to have an evening to remember. There are so many more. Write and tell us how you keep the spark in your relationship. And don’t forget to check out our Web site at www.eHarlequin.com.
Sincerely,
Birgit Davis-Todd
Executive Editor
This book is dedicated to the memory of
Cheryl Anne Porter, a sister Harlequin writer
who could light up a room with her smile
and leave your ribs aching from laughing.
You will be missed, Cheryl.
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
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
1
“THIS IS A MISTAKE,” I said, suddenly panicked by the horde of women pushing at me from all sides. In the minutes just prior to Filene’s Basement “running of the brides,” the crowd was getting hostile, all elbows and bared teeth.
Next to me, my friend Cindy turned her head and scowled. “Denise Cooke, you can’t back out now—I’m counting on you!” The normally demure Cindy Hamilton shoved a woman standing next to her to make room to reach into her shoulder bag. “Here, put on this headband so we can spot each other once we get in there.”
I sighed and reached for the neon pink headband. It wasn’t as if I could look more ridiculous—I was already freezing and humiliated standing there in my yoga leotard (the Web-site-recommended
