The Man Most Likely. Cindi Myers

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      “I can’t believe you’ve lived here three years and we’ve never met before.”

      Gold flecks glinted in Bryan’s brown eyes as his gaze met hers.

      “I guess we travel in different circles,” Angela said. “I’m busy with my shop and the theater group—I haven’t spent much time in clubs or at parties. And I don’t snowboard.”

      Did that sound dull to him? Maybe she was dull, though she preferred to think of it as settled.

      “Still, you’d think we would have run into each other before now.”

      “Maybe we did and you didn’t notice me.” It wouldn’t be the first time a man had looked right past her, to focus on a prettier—and yes, thinner—woman.

      “No, I would have remembered you.” He emphasized the words with a squeeze of her hand and an intense look that sent a tingling sensation clear to her toes.

      She’d have remembered him, too. He was exactly the kind of man she always noticed—with dark hair and eyes, an expressive face and an outgoing personality.

      Pure leading-man material.

      Dear Reader,

      When I meet new couples, I like to hear about how they met. There’s nothing like a romance story, especially in real life.

      I’m particularly fascinated by those stories of unexpected love—the experiences of those who fall hard for people they never thought of as their type. I love these tales where the power of love trumps all expectations or previous experience.

      Angela and Bryan, the heroine and hero of The Man Most Likely, have that kind of romance, set against the fun, quirky backdrop of Crested Butte, Colorado. I hope you’ll enjoy sharing their experience.

      I look forward to hearing from readers, so if you have questions or comments about this book, feel free to e-mail me at [email protected] or write to me in care of Harlequin Enterprises, Ltd., 225 Duncan Mill Rd, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

      Sincerely,

      Cindi Myers

      The Man Most Likely

      Cindi Myers

      

      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      The friend who introduced Cindi Myers to her husband swore the man was not her type at all. But from the first moment he and Cindi smiled at each other, something clicked. Six weeks later they were engaged, and they will soon celebrate their thirtieth wedding anniversary. With such a romantic story of her own, how could Cindi not write romance stories—especially about those who find love where they least expect it.

      To Connie, who introduced me to my husband.

       You did good!

      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 One

      “So, Mr. Perry—Bryan—what are your thoughts on chocolate?”

      The question, and the throaty, velvety tones in which it was delivered, caught Bryan Perry, new assistant manager of the Elevation Hotel at Crested Butte Mountain Resort, off guard. He sat back in his chair behind his desk in the hotel offices and stretched his legs out in front of him. This voice was worth getting comfortable and savoring, even if the woman it belonged to—one Angela Krizova—did ask strange questions. “I haven’t thought much about chocolate,” he answered.

      “Then you haven’t tasted my chocolates.”

      The sexy purr did things to his insides. Who was this goddess and how had he lived in Crested Butte for seven years without encountering her? “Are you offering samples?” The remark popped out before he could censor it. Thank God his manager, Carl Phelps, wasn’t within hearing range. He’d probably see this mild flirtation as yet another reminder that Bryan, until recently a part-time night auditor and full-time ski bum, was not exactly management material.

      “That could be arranged,” Angela said smoothly. “We should probably get together anyway.”

      Bryan’s heart sped up in anticipation. Being attracted to a woman based solely on her voice was a new experience for him, but anyone who sounded this sexy was bound to be the woman of his dreams. “I’d like that,” he said, doing his best to imbue the words with some sex appeal of his own.

      “I need to look over the ballroom, and we can discuss decorations and other refreshments for the fund-raiser,” Angela said.

      Right. The community theater fund-raiser. The whole reason behind this conversation. He sat up straight again, reality cooling his fantasies. “Good idea. What day works for you?” He pretended to study his desk planner, though all he really saw was the vision of a sultry blonde—or brunette, he wasn’t picky—that Angela’s voice had conjured.

      “How about tomorrow afternoon? I have a girl who works part-time in my shop then.”

      “Which shop is that?” he asked, partly to refresh his memory and partly to keep the woman on the line. That voice…

      “The Chocolate Moose. On Elk Avenue.”

      Bryan nodded. Crested Butte’s main street was lined with candy-colored Victorian era and replica-Victorian buildings that catered to locals and tourists alike. Not having a big sweet tooth, he’d never been inside the Chocolate Moose. Now maybe that would change.

      “I asked about chocolate because, while I know the hotel usually supplies the catering for these events, I want to provide a selection of desserts from my shop,” Angela continued. “You can provide everything else, but I want to be in charge of chocolate.”

      Company policy, which Phelps had drummed into Bryan’s head daily since his first hour on the job, stated that no outside food was to be brought into the hotel for special events. But hey, the woman was a chocolate specialist, and what Phelps didn’t know…“I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” Bryan said.

      “Great. Why don’t I meet you at the hotel tomorrow afternoon? About three o’clock?”

      “Great. I’ll look forward to it.” Bryan was still smiling when he hung up the phone.

      “You really need to lay off the 900 numbers during working hours, dude.”

      He looked up and suppressed a groan as his best friend, a snowboarder who went by a single name, Zephyr, sauntered into the office. Dressed in black-and-orange camo boarding pants and jacket, the ends of his blond dreadlocks damp from snow, Zephyr contrasted alarmingly with the pale mauve walls and elegant cherry furniture of the hotel offices. “I was talking with a client,” Bryan said.

      “A sexy, female client from the look on your face.” Zephyr sat on the corner of Bryan’s desk, shoving aside a stapler and a stack of memo pads to make room for his rear end. “I guess every job has its perks, even this one.”

      “Yeah, perks like a regular paycheck,” Bryan said.

      Zephyr snorted. “I guess I’m just