LITMIR.BIZ

      Joan Marlow Golan

      Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

      A Bride for Jackson Powers

      Dixie Browning

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      For Curtiss Ann Matlock, my dearest friend,

       distant cousin and Oklahoma connection.

       We’ve put in a few airport hours together, too.

      DIXIE BROWNING

      celebrated her sixty-fifth book for Silhouette with the publication of Texas Millionaire in 1999. She has also written a number of historical romances with her sister under the name Bronwyn Williams. A charter member of Romance Writers of America, and a member of Novelists, Inc., Dixie has won numerous awards for her work. She lives on the Outer Banks of North Carolina.

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      One

      Obviously, Jackson was doing it all wrong. He didn’t even know how to hold her. You’d think a man his age would’ve learned that much by now. She’d started to squeal and kick him in the belly.

      A few people glared at him. Most were too busy comparing hard-luck stories.

      “…catch a shuttle. If I’m not in D.C. by nine tomorrow—”

      “Fat chance. I’ve been standing here for the past three hours and the damned line hasn’t moved an inch, I swear.”

      “This place stinks. I mean literally! Last time I’m ever going to plan a trip this time of year, so help me. Hey, quit shoving, will you?”

      Two small boys broke through the line, whooping like wild animals. A middle-aged woman wearing sweats and a fur coat dropped a heap of carry-on luggage, flopped down on the pile and began to swear.

      Jax wanted to say, Yeah, well what if you were stuck here with a daughter you’d met only hours earlier, who doesn’t even speak the damned language? He sniffed. He had a pretty good idea what was stinking, and it wasn’t just the weather. He jiggled the damp, squirming baby in his arms, mumbling words that were supposed to be comforting, but didn’t appear to have that effect. Too bad babies didn’t come with an operations manual.

      Someone bumped him from behind and murmured a soft apology. The natives were getting restless. He’d heard of road rage. It was nothing compared to airport rage, given a holiday crowd and the ice storm of the century.

      “Whaddya mean, flight delayed? I gotta get outta here, dammit!” the man in front of him shouted. “Don’t nobody in this place know how to deice a plane? Buncha idiots, if you ask me!”

      Lines for the two flights serviced from this particular desk had already merged into one unruly mob. He was being jostled from all sides.

      The sigh that came from behind him was almost lost in the clamor. Jax’s shoulders sagged as Sunny shifted from fret mode to shriek mode. Pink-shod feet, size zilch, kicked him in the belly. Poor kid must be miserable. He wondered how long it would take the dampness to soak through her padded pink snowsuit and all the layers it enclosed.

      Another sigh whispered behind him. He was tempted to turn around and snap out something really helpful, like, “You think you’ve got troubles? How’d you like to try mine on for size?”

      He shifted his burden, struggling to hold on to baby, briefcase, carrier and pink plastic diaper bag. Sunny was bored with the carrier, which was why he was carrying her in his arms. The thing was a damned nuisance, but Carolyn had said she needed it.

      “Shh, yeah, I know, babe, it’s a rough deal. I’ll get us out of here, don’t worry.” At this point he’d gladly take the first flight out, regardless of where it was bound.

      “Excuse me,” said a voice so soft he nearly missed it.

      “You talking to me?” He turned to the woman behind him in what had once

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