When a workaholic OB doctor
asks her commitmentphobic, globetrotting ex-fling to
donate a sperm sample, a simple request turns into far more than either of them
ever bargained for…Here comes THE BABY PROJECT by Miranda Liasson…
Liz Kingston spends her
life delivering babies and longs for one of her own. All she needs is someone
with fabulous genetic material. Who better to ask than her sexy ex-fling, who
has no interest in ever settling down or being a father.
International
correspondent Grant Wilbanks loves danger and travelling the world. But nothing
in all this Brit’s experience could have prepared him for the way a torrid
affair with Liz makes him feel. When she asks for his assistance, he figures he
can help her out with a simple donation. No strings, no emotions,
just…test-tube science.
But this
simple favor gives them both more than they ever bargained for. Grant agrees to
her terms, but stepping away gets harder and harder because the more time they
spend together, the more he finds himself falling…and losing the battle to
safeguard his heart.
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Excerpt
“I
have one question,” Grant said.
“What
is it?” Liz asked. Her body felt boneless, her throat suddenly dry, blood whooshing in her ears. Either she was
having a heart attack or she was very, very turned on. Or both.
“Why
are you wearing my bathrobe?”
Oh,
dammit. Busted. At least the embarrassment
made her thoughts veer back into safer territory. “I—spilled vinegar on my
shirt and it was hanging on your kitchen chair.” That was the truth. She
omitted the fact that she’d inhaled it repeatedly and probably would have slept
in it if he hadn’t shown up.
His
full, beautiful lips curved up in a smile. “It looks better on you anyway.”
His
hands stopped moving on her arms. He stood there looking at her, his grin
slowly fading.
There
went that whoosh-whooshing of her
blood pounding through her temples, her pulse points, the heat from his gaze
spreading through her, settling in her core.
“It
might look even better off,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. Oh God. Did
she say that?
His brows shot up in surprise. The
smile returned, this time predatory. A gleam flashed in his eyes. Then he bent
his head and kissed her. Just a graze of her lips, soft and featherlight, but
it made her lose her breath, her balance. Her sense.
He
steadied her. Pulled back, holding her by the shoulders and tracing her cheek
with his thumb. “I need you to tell me what you want. Perhaps this isn’t a good
time.”
She
couldn’t let him leave. She wanted him more than air, needed him too badly. But
to say that?
His
thumb slipped down and traced her lower lip. “Let me make you feel better. I
know how.”
Of
course he did, and every cell in her body knew it.
His
other hand wrapped around her neck, tangled in her hair. Slowly, he drew her in
to him. Tugged on her lower lip, tasted it. Teased it. She gasped. The
surprising tenderness of his touch, the slow, careful moves, had her trembling
beneath his touch.
“Is
this what you want?”
Oh, of
course it was. Emotions collided inside her, some attached to warnings, but her
absolute need for him pushed all her doubts away.
“Say
the word and I’ll leave. But say it now.”
His
voice was soft, tender, yet demanding at the same time.
“Yes.”
One
word was all it took for him to seal her lips with his. He possessed her mouth
with relentless kisses and thorough strokes of his clever tongue, making the
slow steady simmer building within her go up in flames.
Suddenly
their bodies were flush, and she could feel the raw, uncontrolled heat of him
searing her through his thin robe. The hard thickness of his erection pressed
against her belly, against the throbbing pulse between her legs. His mouth was
on her, oh God, his wonderful, soft lips kissing her, possessing her mouth, his
tongue tangling with hers.
She
forgot everything—her sadness, her disappointment, her name. All were smoke and ashes scorched by the absolute hunger
between them.
He slid his hand down her back and
cupped her ass, positioning her over his raging erection. She ground her hips
against him until he emitted a deep, low growl, which pleased her greatly. She
felt his smile against her lips as he scooped her up and carried her into her
bedroom.
“Make
love to me,” she whispered.
“I
will,” he said, tossing her lightly onto the bed and shrugging off his suit
jacket. “But only if you give me back my robe. I’m quite possessive of my clothing.”
Author Bio
Miranda Liasson loves to write stories about everyday people
who find love despite themselves, because there’s nothing like a great love
story. And if there are a few laughs along the way, even better! She’s a
Romance Writers of America Golden Heart winner and an Amazon bestselling author
whose heartwarming and humorous small–town romances have won accolades such as
the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence and have been Harlequin Junkie and Night
Owl Reviews Top Picks.
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