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       “I know what you’re thinking.”

      “And what is that?” Nate teased, glad for the chance to have a few minutes alone with her.

      Brooke turned to face him. Leaning against the fridge, she met his gaze and answered dryly, “The same thing I think when I see Cole looking at you like you’re some kind of super hero. It’s not enough reason for us to get together.”

      Nate set aside what he was doing and slowly crossed the distance between them. He stopped in front of her, and braced a forearm on either side of her slender shoulders.

      He hadn’t intended to make another move on her, here and now, but then he hadn’t intended a lot of things when it came to Brooke Mitchell.

      “Then how about this?” Nate offered softly. He watched her marine blue eyes widen as he leaned in to kiss her.

      Dear Reader,

      What makes a good father? To answer that question, I have only to look as far as my own dad. He was always there for me. Or to put it in today’s slang, “He showed up.” It didn’t matter whether I had a fall from my bike or a piano recital or I was giving birth to my first child. He was always there to bandage a knee, cheer me on, or share in the most incredible joy I’ve ever felt in my life. He showed up.

      Nate Hutchinson wants to show up, too, but he doesn’t have a child of his own until an old friend leaves a posthumous request that he bring up her son.

      This is no baby. Landry is a fourteen-year-old boy with a mind of his own. Landry doesn’t understand why Nate would want him and he’s not much interested in sticking around to find out why.

      Enter Brooke Mitchell. She loves and protects her own son, Cole, fiercely—even when scandal threatens.

      With Brooke and Cole there to help, Nate and Landry begin to see what they too can have, if they dare to become a family. The question is, can they do it on their own? Do they even want to try, given the fact that the two boys have become like brothers? As for Nate and Brooke—something wonderful is happening there, too …

      Happy reading!

       Cathy Gillen Thacker

      About the Author

      CATHY GILLEN THACKER is married and a mother of three. She and her husband spent eighteen years in Texas and now reside in North Carolina. Her mysteries, romantic comedies and heartwarming family stories have made numerous appearances on bestseller lists, but her best reward, she says, is knowing one of her books made someone’s day a little brighter. A popular author for many years, she loves telling passionate stories with happy endings, and thinks nothing beats a good romance and a hot cup of tea! You can visit Cathy’s website at www.cathygillenthacker.com for more information on her upcoming and previously published books, recipes and a list of her favorite things.

      The Mummy Proposal

      Cathy Gillen Thacker

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

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      Chapter One

      “I hear you work miracles,” Nate Hutchinson drawled.

      “Sometimes I do.” Brooke Mitchell smiled and took the sexy financier’s hand in hers, shaking it briefly as she stepped into his downtown Fort Worth office.

      “Good.” Nate looked her straight in the eye. “Because I’m in need of a home makeover—fast. The son of an old friend is coming to live with me.”

      Still tingling from the feel of his warm, hard palm clasped in hers, Brooke stepped back. “Temporarily or permanently?”

      “If all goes according to plan, I’ll adopt Landry by summer’s end.”

      Brooke had heard the founder of Nate Hutchinson Financial Services was eligible, wealthy and generous to a fault. She hadn’t known he was in the market for a family, but she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. Nate’s four best buddies were all married, with kids. It made sense that as he approached his late thirties, the dark-haired, six-foot-five Texan would want to enrich his personal life, too. Brooke had just figured that a man as successful and handsome as Nate would want to do so the old-fashioned way. By finding a woman to settle down with and then have babies. Not that this was any of her business, she reminded herself sternly.

      She turned her glance away from Nate’s broad shoulders and powerful chest. “So how old is this child?” she asked in a crisp, formal tone, trying not to think how the marine-blue of Nate Hutchinson’s dress shirt and striped tie deepened the hue of his eyes.

      “Fourteen.”

      Brooke sank into a chair and pulled out a notepad and pen. She crossed her legs at the knee and continued. “What’s he like?”

      “I don’t know.” Nate circled around to sit behind his massive antique mahogany desk. He relaxed against the smooth leather of the chair. “I’ve never met him.”

      “You’ve invited this kid to live with you permanently and you’ve never laid eyes on him?” Brooke blurted before she could stop herself.

      Nate flashed a charming half smile, the kind car salesmen gave when they were talking about gas mileage that was less than ideal. “It’s complicated,” he murmured. “But I’m sure it’s going to work out fine.”

      Obviously, Brooke thought, calling on her own experience as a parent, Nate Hutchinson knew as little about teenage boys as he did about decorating. But that wasn’t her problem. Finding a way to do the assignment and collect her commission without getting emotionally involved was. It seemed there hadn’t been a child born yet in this world who did not possess the capability to steal her heart … and that went double for a kid in any kind of trouble.

      The phone on his desk buzzed. Nate picked up. “Yes. Send him in. I want Ms. Mitchell to meet him.” He rose and headed for the door.

      Moments later, a tall, gangly teen sauntered through the portal of the executive suite. He wore jeans and a faded T-shirt he had clearly outgrown, and had peach fuzz on his face and shaggy dishwater-blond hair. His only nod toward propriety was the tender deference with which he treated the elderly white-haired woman beside him. She walked with a cane and looked so frail even a mild Texas breeze might blow her over.

      Brooke could feel Nate’s shock, even as he resumed the perennial smooth of someone who made his living charming people into investing with his firm. “Mrs. Walker. It’s been a long time.” He moved to help her into a chair. The youth assisted from the other side.

      The elderly woman gratefully accepted their help. “Yes. It has.”

      “And this must be your great-grandson.” Nate moved toward the fourteen-year-old boy, genially extending his palm. “Hello, Landry.”

      Hands shoved in the pockets

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