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      “Don’t you need to trust me?”

      Mark looked at her for a long moment.

      “I don’t understand what you mean.”

      “You’re going to be coming to my home, plus you said we’d be going on outings with Joey. We’ll also have private meetings such as this one to discuss progress. I’m referring to you trusting me as a man, not just as Joey’s guardian. Do you trust me as a man?”

      “I…” Cedar stopped speaking.

      Why was Mark doing this? She didn’t intend to view him as a man. No, he was Joey’s guardian, his uncle, the person who was now that little boy’s father. Their relationship had nothing to do with Cedar, the woman, trusting Mark, the man.

      Mark Chandler unsettled her, made her acutely aware of her femininity and his incredible masculinity. She had no idea if she trusted him.

      She was having enough trouble trusting herself whenever she was near him.

      Dear Reader,

      Well, it’s September, which always sounds like a fresh start to me, no matter how old I get. And evidently we have six women this month who agree. In Home Again by Joan Elliott Pickart, a woman who can’t have children has decided to work with them in a professional capacity—but when she is assigned an orphaned little boy, she fears she’s in over her head. Then she meets his gorgeous guardian—and she’s sure of it!

      In the next installment of MOST LIKELY TO…, The Measure of a Man by Marie Ferrarella, a single mother attempting to help her beloved former professor joins forces with a former campus golden boy, now the college…custodian. What could have happened? Allison Leigh’s The Tycoon’s Marriage Bid pits a pregnant secretary against her ex-boss who, unbeknownst to him, has a real connection to her baby’s father. In The Other Side of Paradise by Laurie Paige, next up in her SEVEN DEVILS miniseries, a mysterious woman seeking refuge as a ranch hand learns that she may have more ties to the community than she could have ever suspected. When a beautiful nurse is assigned to care for a devastatingly handsome, if cantankerous, cowboy, the results are…well, you get the picture—but you can have it spelled out for you in Stella Bagwell’s next MEN OF THE WEST book, Taming a Dark Horse. And in Undercover Nanny by Wendy Warren, a domestically challenged female detective decides it’s necessary to penetrate the lair of single father and heir to a grocery fortune by pretending to be…his nanny. Hmm. It could work….

      So enjoy, and snuggle up. Fall weather is just around the corner….

      Happy reading!

      Gail Chasan

      Senior Editor

      Home Again

      Joan Elliott Pickart

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      For Janet Elliott and Pat Elliott Hunt.

       My sisters, my friends.

      JOAN ELLIOTT PICKART

      is the author of over ninety-five novels. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys reading, needlework, gardening and attending craft shows on the town square. Joan has three all-grown-up daughters as well as a young daughter, Autumn, who is in elementary school. Joan, Autumn, and a three-pound poodle named Willow live in a charming small town in the high pine country of Arizona.

      Contents

      Prologue

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Dear Puncho:

      I wish I could smile whole bunches like you do ’cause you look happy all the time. I don’t feel too happy ’cause my mom and dad went in the car and now they are angels and I miss them whole lots. My uncle Mark is sort of okay when he’s not grumpy and Cedar is way cool and I think they would be a good family for me but I don’t know if they want to be my family or not. Could you try real hard to make them be my family so I won’t be lonely?

      Your friend,

      Joey

      Chapter One

      Cedar Kennedy glanced at her watch and frowned. Her new client was ten minutes late for his five-o’clock appointment. Remembering that her secretary had left early for a dreaded trip to the dentist, Cedar picked up the files she’d been updating and walked to the outer office, where she placed the folders in Bethany’s in-box.

      She sat down in the chair behind the desk and flipped the page in the leather-bound appointment book to see what was on the agenda for tomorrow. Just as she closed the book, the door to the suite opened and a man entered, shoving the door closed behind him.

      In one quick perusal Cedar observed that her visitor was tall, with broad shoulders that stretched the material of a faded plaid shirt to the maximum, long legs clad in dusty jeans, and he was wearing heavy work boots. His features…goodness gracious…were rugged and blatantly masculine, his square jaw covered in an obvious five-o’clock shadow. He had thick black hair badly in need of a trim and extremely dark eyes that swept over the reception area before meeting her gaze as he approached the desk.

      This was one very earthy, handsome man, Cedar decided. Very handsome. And, if she were correct, he was also late for his appointment, and she fully intended to make clear that being on time was of the utmost importance.

      “Mr. Chandler?” Cedar asked, getting to her feet.

      “Yeah, I’m Mark Chandler,” he said.

      Perfect voice, Cedar thought. Deep, sort of rumbly, befitting a man of his size and physique.

      Mark Chandler glanced at the open door leading to her office and lowered his voice. “I’m a little late for my appointment,” he said. “Is this doc a real stickler about people being on time?” He looked at the nameplate on the desk. “I’d hate to start out on the wrong foot, Bethany…you know what I mean? I’m a desperate man and I need this doc’s help. Big-time.”

      He swiped the front of one thigh, then the other. “How does she feel about construction-site dust? I didn’t have a spare second to go home to shower and change clothes.”

      Cedar snapped her head back up to meet Mark Chandler’s gaze. She’d been watching the fascinating motion of his large hand on those muscled thighs and…oh, good grief…now he was dragging that hand through his thick hair in a gesture so incredibly male it was enough to make a woman weep.

      “I…” She stopped to clear her throat when she heard the strange little squeak that used to be her voice.

      “I’ve never talked to a shrink before,” Mark continued. “Is she all stuffy? Does she just nod a lot and say ‘mmm’? Man, I’m so out of my league being here, but I’m at the end of my rope. What’s the best way to get on the good side of this Dr. Kennedy, make her forget I blew it by being late?”

      “Mmm,” Cedar said, because she couldn’t resist, then frowned thoughtfully for good measure. “I personally don’t think that Dr. Kennedy is stuffy at all, Mr. Chandler. I’d suggest that you apologize for your tardiness and make it clear that you’ll be on time for future appointments.”

      “Yeah, okay, I can

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