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A Daddy for Her Sons. Raye MorganЧитать онлайн книгу.

A Daddy for Her Sons - Raye  Morgan


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       THE SINGLE MOM DIARIES:

      First comes baby, then comes happily-ever-after.

      The Darling sisters, both single moms, have always supported each other through the ups and downs of life and love. But they’ll need each other’s advice more than ever when the possibility of true love comes knocking!

      Playboy Connor McNair thinks life behind a picket fence isn’t his speed—until Jill Darling, the girl he secretly loves, traps him with kisses and Bundt cake. How can he turn away from the woman he’s always wanted and her twin baby boys?

      Don’t miss:

      A DADDY FOR HER SONS

      Sara Darling’s joy at adopting her deceased half-sister’s baby turns into a bad dream when she realises that the rough, handsome man she’s just met has come to claim that same child. Could a marriage of convenience with Sara be exactly the medicine the tortured Jake Martin needs?

      Find out in

      MARRIAGE FOR HER BABY

      Dear Reader,

      This story is about a woman who bakes such lovely Bundt cakes she’s hoping to build a business on it. What a fun way to make a living! Personally, I’m pretty much a disaster in the baking department, but I do have one favorite Bundt cake that makes friends ooh and aah. Hope it works for you!

      Measurements are according to US custom. I grew up with Dutch cookbooks, but converting recipes to metrics is just too risky for me. Sorry!

       Chocolate Overload Bundt Cake

      1 package chocolate cake mix

      1 small package instant chocolate pudding

      4 eggs

      1 cup sour cream

      ¼ cup cold coffee

      ¼ cup water

      12 ounces fine-quality semi-sweet chocolate chips

      Heat oven to 350 degrees F.

      Beat eggs until well mixed, add sour cream, then water and coffee, and mix thoroughly. Add cake mix, beating in slowly, then the pudding. Mix the same way. When smooth, fold in chocolate chips and pour it all into a prepared Bundt pan.

      Bake for about one hour. Test with pick and take out when pick comes clean. Cool, but glaze while still somewhat warm.

      Rum Glaze (a chocolate or coffee glaze will do as well)

      Mix together in a saucepan:

      ½ cup butter

      1 cup white sugar

      ¼ cup white rum

      ¼ cup water

      Bring to boil and simmer for 2 minutes, then pour over warm cake that has been poked all over with a toothpick.

      You don’t want to think about the calories, carbs and fat per slice. If you let that bother you, you wouldn’t bake this in the first place!

      Eating Bundt cake goes perfectly with reading romances! Enjoy!

       Raye Morgan

      About the Author

      RAYE MORGAN has been a nursery school teacher, a travel agent, a clerk and a business editor, but her best job ever has been writing romances—and fostering romance in her own family at the same time. Current score: two boys married, two more to go. Raye has published more than seventy romance novels, and claims to have many more waiting in the wings. She lives in Southern California, with her husband and whichever son happens to be staying at home at the moment.

      A Daddy

      for Her Sons

      Raye Morgan

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      This is dedicated to Lauri, for everything wonderful

      that comes out of her oven!

      CHAPTER ONE

      A NIGHTMARE. That was what this had to be. She must be dreaming. But what had she expected from a blind date?

      Jill Darling was no shy innocent, but her face was blazing. She could feel it. The man was trying to … Ugh, it was just too creepy to even try to name what he was doing. She couldn’t really be sure unless she took a look under the table. And that would cause a scene. She couldn’t do that. She knew people in this restaurant.

      But … was that really his foot sliding up and down her leg?

      He was leaning close, talking on and on, his breath hot on her neck. Okay, maybe that was all in the game. But what the heck was that foot doing?

      She tried to move away, but she was trapped, huddled right up against the edge of the planter that sat right beside their table, tickling her nose with its palm fronds. They were eating in the restaurant of the nicest hotel in this part of town. It had Irish linen tablecloths, real sterling silverware and a small combo playing for dancers on a tiny dance floor to the side.

      She took a long drink from her water glass, then looked over at him. She tried to smile, but she knew it was wobbly and pretty darn unconvincing if he should happen to actually notice it.

      Karl Attkins was his name. Her friend’s brother. He was good looking enough, but somehow cold, as though she could have been anyone with an “available female” label stamped on her forehead. Should she ask him about the foot? And maybe warn him not to lose sight of his shoe. It wouldn’t be easy to replace that here in this crowded restaurant.

      Oh, Lord, he was using his toes now. She was going to have to say something. If she didn’t, her nice steak dinner just might come back up. And all that wine she drank, trying to keep busy. This just wasn’t cool. She took a deep breath and tried to think of a way to say it without being insulting.

      But then he gave her the out she needed.

      “Would you like to dance?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow as though he knew she must consider him quite debonair.

      Dance. No, not at all. But she steeled herself to the effort. Dancing ought to give him a reason to put his shoe back on, and if so, it would all be worth it.

      “Sure,” she said breathlessly. “Why not?”

      Well, the fact that they were playing a tango at that very moment might have been a reason to sit this one out. But it hardly mattered. At least the man was shod once more. She tried to keep the electric smile painted on her face as he led her to the proper position. And then she glanced at her watch and wondered how much longer she was going to have to endure this torture. She had to put in a good chunk of time or the friends who’d got her into this wouldn’t believe she’d really tried.

      Oh, Mary Ellen, she groaned silently as Karl pushed her to and fro dramatically across the dancing floor, leaving her to lunge about like a puppet with its strings cut. I love you dearly, but this is just too high a price to pay for your friendship.

      “But, Jill,” all her friends had counseled solemnly, “you’ve got to do it. You’ve got to get back into the swim of things. It’s been over a year since Brad … well, since you’ve been alone.” The timing had helped make her receptive. Changes were making her feel vulnerable. Her sister was probably moving away, and her younger half-sister had recently died. Loneliness was looming large in her life. “Time is streaking by,” another friend lectured. “Don’t let it leave you behind. Don’t be a coward. Get out there and fight!”

      Fight? For what?

      “A


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