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292 pages, ebook
Published May 22, 2012
We are a group of four friends who, inspired by the many examples of philanthropy in the romance community, decided to take action in the fight against breast cancer.
We are participating in the Sept. 22 Avon Walk, which has raised more than $423 million for research to find a cure or prevention, as well as for programs that enable all patients to access quality care. Support for the medically underserved is a key priority.
We're proud to be part of the romance community and want our team name to reflect that. While the term "bodice rippers" has been used as a derogatory way to refer to romance novels, we want to emphasize that what lies beneath the bodice is an important concern for every woman.
As part of our fund raising efforts, we put together Three Weddings and a Murder. This book is more than a compilation of reunion stories. It's a labor of love from four friends, and it's not intended to be a single-genre anthology. What ties together three historical romances with a contemporary romantic thriller is our love and respect for each other and for our readers. Like the readers in our community, the stories are diverse. We will donate all profits to the Avon Walk.
Thirty minutes later, Cat still could not catch her breath. Jamie had made the preposterous statement with utmost calm, his face quiet, his gaze steady on hers. As if he’d said “I need a new pair of boots.”
An heir.
Her skin burned with the very word.
It was not the thought of children that unsettled her. Not even the knowledge of how children were created.
It was the memories. Vivid flashes of heat that thrummed under her skin. Jamie in her bed. The shock of his mouth everywhere. His skin impossibly smooth against hers. The places she craved him. Jamie filling her, again and again, the madness between them. Her unimaginable pleasure.
Five years of a cold bed and she had not forgotten a thing.
“You’ve allotted three days to accomplish all your threats?” Now she did smile. “My. You’ll be working quickly. When last we spoke, you said that if I married Mr. Croswell, I’d regret it.”
“I don’t believe I used quite those words. But yes, you’ve got the general gist of my sentiment.”
She put her head to one side, looking off into the distance. “You claimed that when he passed away, you’d seduce me, and once I’d fallen in love with you, you’d stomp on my bleeding heart and leave me weeping.” She recited those words as sweetly as if she were discussing a favorite recipe for plum preserves. “Oh, don’t give me that freezing look; I’m just trying to make sure our memories are in accord.”
There was only one thing for it. He was going to have to lie.
He reached across the table and took her hand. “You’ve got one thing wrong, Ginny. I didn’t just claim that I’d do those things. I promised I would.” He stroked his thumb across her palm. “And you know I always keep my promises.”