His Best Friend's Wife. GINA WILKINS

       She moved to pass him, but he didn’t immediately step out of the way, bringing them even closer together.

      His gaze held hers when he reached up unexpectedly to brush the ends of her angled bob, his fingertips just brushing her cheek. “Your hair is different,” he murmured. “Shorter and darker.”

      Self-conscious, she shrugged. “I stopped bleaching it. And it’s easier to wear it shorter with my busy schedule now.”

      “It looks good.”

      Uncertain how to take the compliment, she merely said, “Thank you.”

      He continued to search her face, as if noting every slight difference. “More than just your hair has changed.”

      “That’s hardly surprising,” she answered with forced lightness. “I was just a kid when we met, now I’m a thirty-year-old mother of school-age twins. Of course I’ve changed.”

      “You were a pretty girl,” he replied. “You’re a beautiful woman.”

      Her eyes closed for just a moment, her cheeks going warm. His simple statement had rocked her to her toes.

      Dear Reader,

      Friends who become lovers has always been one of my favorite romance themes—mostly because I think friendship is an important basis for any lasting relationship. My husband, John, and I have been best friends and partners for more than thirty years, and that foundation has sustained us through both the good times and the inevitable challenges life has thrown our way.

      In His Best Friend’s Wife, I added a few extra complications. The tangled emotions Evan and Renae have about her late husband—his best friend—her six-year-old twins, and her very present, very meddling and very antagonistic-toward-Evan mother-in-law, Lucy. Not only does Evan have to woo Renae, he has to somehow convince Lucy to give him a chance in the tightly knit family unit they’ve formed. The odds are stacked against him, but he believes it’s worth the effort, if he can only persuade Renae …

      I hope you enjoy this story I had so much pleasure writing for you. Visit me at my blog site, ginawilkins.com, or my Facebook page for news about upcoming Mills & Boon^® releases!

       Gina Wilkins

      About the Author

      GINA WILKINS is a bestselling and award-winning author who has written more than seventy novels for Mills & Boon. She credits her successful career in romance to her long, happy marriage and her three “extraordinary” children.

      A lifelong resident of central Arkansas, Ms Wilkins sold her first book to Mills & Boon in 1987 and has been writing full-time since. She has appeared on the Waldenbooks, B. Dalton and USA TODAY bestseller lists. She is a three-time recipient of a Maggie Award for Excellence, sponsored by Georgia Romance Writers, and has won several awards from the reviewers of RT Book Reviews.

      His Best

      Friend’s Wife

      Gina Wilkins

      

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      For my husband and best friend, John

       Chapter One

      “I have always been delighted at the prospect of a new day, a fresh try, one more start, with perhaps a bit of magic waiting somewhere behind the morning …”

      —Joseph Priestley

      “Excuse me? Is this where I sign in for my appointment with Dr. Sternberg?”

      Renae Sanchez picked up a stack of clipboards for the sign-in counter of the optometrists’ office where she worked as office manager. Pasting a professional smile on her face, she turned to greet the man who’d spoken from the other side of the open reception window.

      The clipboards hit the floor with a crash that made several people in the waiting room jump in their seats. Embarrassed, Renae gave them an apologetic look before gathering the scattered clipboardsand attempting to collect her composure. Only then did she approach the counter—and the man from her past who waited there.

      Except for the slight hint of gray at the temples of his conservatively cut, coffee-colored hair, Evan Daugherty looked much the same as he had the last time she had seen him almost seven years ago, as a pallbearer at her late husband’s funeral.

      In his early thirties, Evan’s face was slightly more tanned now from years of working outdoors, and the little squint lines that had developed at the corners of his dark eyes only added to the appeal of his ruggedly attractive features. He’d had tears in those dark brown eyes the last time she’d seen him. He smiled now—though his smile froze when she faced him fully.

      She had identified him at first glance, but it seemed to have taken him a heartbeat longer to make the connection. Had she changed so much in the past seven years? She had been twenty-three, six months pregnant with twins and in a haze of shock and grief when they last parted. Seeing him now sent those long-banked feelings flooding through her again—in addition to other complex reactions to Evan himself.

      Working especially hard to ignore the latter emotions, she kept her expression carefully schooled when she set the clipboards on the counter. “Hello, Evan.”

      Tactfully, he merely glanced at the clipboards, declining to comment on her clumsy response to the sight of him. “Renae. This is a surprise.”

      “For me, too,” she agreed. “I didn’t see your name on the appointment list.”

      She wasn’t usually the one who checked in clients, but as her luck would have it, Lisa was at lunch and Cathy was busy with a phone call.

      “You’re looking well.” Though Evan spoke easily, Renae sensed that he felt as awkward as she did about this unexpected reunion.

      Or was she merely projecting? Was she the only one suddenly remembering a forbidden kiss on a tumultuous night that had sporadically haunted her dreams—and sometimes her unguarded waking moments—for almost a decade?

      All too aware that they were being idly watched by the waiting clients whose attention had been drawn by the crashing clipboards, she kept her tone as politely professional as she could, considering the turmoil inside her. “What can I do for you, Evan?”

      “Oh. Right. I have an appointment with Dr. Sternberg. I just need to give you my insurance information.”

      He offered her an insurance card and she was pleased—and somewhat surprised—to note that her hand was steady as she took it from him and handed him a clipboard in return. “I’ll make a copy of this for your file. If you’ll have a seat and fill out this new-patient form, Dr. Sternberg will be with you shortly.”

      He hesitated before turning away, looking as though he found their brief, strictly business exchange unsatisfying. “How are the twins?”

      “They’re well, thank you. Growing like weeds.” She almost winced at hearing the overused cliché from her own lips, but it was the best she could do just then.

      “Excuse me, Renae, you have a call on line three.”

      She turned gratefully in response to the welcome interruption. “Thank you, Cathy. Will you make a copy of Mr. Daugherty’s insurance information, please?”

      “Of course.”

      With a coolly civil nod to Evan, Renae took the phone call. She handled the business issue swiftly, then murmured an excuse to Cathy and escaped to the employees’ restroom. Once there, she would have splashed cold water on her face, but she didn’t want to wash off the makeup she’d barely had time to apply earlier after dressing hastily for work