Like Silk. Mary Baxter Lynn

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      “Please…”

      Her voice, in that broken plea, jerked him back to the moment at hand. “Please what?”

      “Don’t take me to the hospital.”

      So she wasn’t catatonic after all. Or in total shock. Both good signs that filled him with relief. At least it didn’t appear she was going to collapse on him, a fear he hadn’t heretofore wanted to address.

      “That’s where you belong,” he stressed, disturbed anew that she would even hesitate.

      “If you try to make me go, I’ll get out of the car.”

      “And do what?” He knew his sarcasm was lost on her, but he couldn’t stop the words.

      “Keep walking.”

      “And die?”

      “That wouldn’t be a bad thing,” she said, her voice breaking.

      “With a keen sense of characterization and emotions, Ms. Baxter will please. The story is charming.”

      —Romantic Times on Tempting Janey

      Like Silk

      Mary Lynn Baxter

      

www.mirabooks.co.uk

      Contents

       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

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Chapter Twenty-One

       Chapter Twenty-Two

       Chapter Twenty-Three

       Chapter Twenty-Four

       Chapter Twenty-Five

       Chapter Twenty-Six

       Chapter Twenty-Seven

       Chapter Twenty-Eight

       Chapter Twenty-Nine

       Chapter Thirty

       Chapter Thirty-One

       Chapter Thirty-Two

       Chapter Thirty-Three

       Chapter Thirty-Four

       Chapter Thirty-Five

       Chapter Thirty-Six

       Chapter Thirty-Seven

       Chapter Thirty-Eight

       Chapter Thirty-Nine

       Chapter Forty

       Chapter Forty-One

      One

      Were there any skeletons in his closet?

      Collier Smith would rather not dwell on that subject, but he had no choice—not since he’d just found out he was being seriously considered for the federal judgeship in the central district of his home state.

      “Yes, yes,” he muttered out loud, thinking how incredibly lucky he was to even be in the running for such a prestigious position at the young age of thirty-eight. What was even more incredible was that he had no political experience.

      A federal judge. Awesome. His dream come true—if it happened, he reminded himself, jerking the reality chain. But if the cards fell right and he ended up as the president’s chosen one, he would not only make himself proud, but his stepdad, Mason, as well. Collier knew Mason wanted this position for him with every fiber of his being, and Collier feared the consequences if it didn’t come to fruition.

      He squirmed against the pinch of guilt that tightened his gut. It should be his stepbrother, Jackson, who was vying for the job, not him. If only Jackson hadn’t been in that accident and lost the use of his legs. If only… There were so many of those in his life that Collier couldn’t begin to sort through them all.

      His mind reverted back to his buried skeletons, but he quickly dismissed them again. He refused to dwell on the negative. For the moment he wanted the luxury of indulging himself and basking in his good fortune.

      Unable to contain the excitement building inside him, he slapped