One Night She Would Never Forget. Amy Andrews

       Praise for Amy Andrews:

      ‘A spectacular set of stories by Ms Andrews

      , the ITALIAN SURGEON TO DAD! duet book features tales of Italian men who know how to leave a lasting impression in the imaginations of readers who love the romance genre.’ —Cataromance.com on ITALIAN SURGEON TO DAD! duet

      ‘Whether Amy Andrews is an auto-buy for you,

      or a new-to-you author, this book is definitely worth reading.’ —Pink Heart Society Book Reviews on A MOTHER FOR MATILDA

      Amy also won a RB*Y

      (Romantic Book of the Year) Award in 2010 for A DOCTOR, A NURSE, A CHRISTMAS BABY!

      ‘You’re not married?’

      Patrick looked down at his bare left hand, absently stroking the place where his wedding band, gone for almost three years now, had sat. ‘Not any more.’

      Miranda, conscious of the occasional brush of his arm and the heat radiating from his thigh to hers, almost sagged against him in relief. She might not be experienced at picking up men in bars, and it certainly hadn’t been her intent when she came to the symposium, but she was pretty sure there was an undercurrent between them.

      An undercurrent she probably would never have explored under normal circumstances. But Lola was at a sleepover and, thanks to the generosity of her grandmother, she was staying the night at a swanky hotel.

      And she was extraordinarily attracted to Patrick Costello. And, if she wasn’t very much mistaken, the feeling was mutual.

      This wasn’t some seventeen-year-old girl crush. This was all grown-up. And she wanted it. Her pulse tripped at the thought of doing something a little reckless for a change.

      She drained the remnants of her glass. Maybe she could have one crazy night?

      ‘Would you like another wine?’ he asked.

      Miranda met his gaze, felt it rove over her face and settle on her mouth. She’d been a single mother since she was seventeen. She wasn’t up on the rules of this situation. But the part of her that was female, that responded to his maleness, knew that another wine implied so much more than just a second glass.

      If she was sensible she’d walk away right now.

      But she was so tired of always being sensible.

      She lifted her chin and looked straight into his golden-brown eyes. ‘Yes, please.’

      Dear Reader,

      Don’t you just love stories about people who really want to be together but can’t? The yearning and the tension and the will they/won’t they conundrum as the story evolves and you know something’s gotta give. I think it’s especially touching when children are involved. When two people who are obviously attracted to each other deny it so they can be good parents to their children.

      Except we all know how that one’s going to end, right?

      Parents are people too and surely a man and a woman who have always done the right thing and strived through difficult circumstances to be there and be everything for their kids, deserve a little happiness?

      I hope you’ll agree that Patrick and Miranda do. Ruby and Lola, their little girls, certainly do.

      From their first meeting in a hotel lift to their eventual HEA there aren’t two more worthy people than Patrick and Miranda.

      I hope you enjoy their story.

      Love,

       Amy

      About the Author

      AMY ANDREWS has always loved writing, and still can’t quite believe that she gets to do it for a living. Creating wonderful heroines and gorgeous heroes and telling their stories is an amazing way to pass the day. Sometimes they don’t always act as she’d like them to—but then neither do her kids, so she’s kind of used to it. Amy lives in the very beautiful Samford Valley, with her husband and aforementioned children, along with six brown chooks and two black dogs. She loves to hear from her readers. Drop her a line at www.amyandrews.com.au

       Recent titles by the same author:

       SYDNEY HARBOUR HOSPITAL:

       EVIE’S BOMBSHELL*

       HOW TO MEND A BROKEN HEART

       SYDNEY HARBOUR HOSPITAL: LUCA’S BAD GIRL*

       WAKING UP WITH DR OFF-LIMITS

       JUST ONE LAST NIGHT …

       RESCUED BY THE DREAMY DOC

       VALENTINO’S PREGNANCY BOMBSHELL

       ALLESANDRO AND THE CHEERY NANNY

* Sydney Harbour Hospital

       These books are also available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk

      One Night She Would Never Forget

      Amy Andrews

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      For Ethan, Saul, Quinn, Neve and Jem—

      an aunt couldn’t ask for nicer nieces and nephews!

      CHAPTER ONE

       September

      MIRANDA DEAN PAID no heed to the man getting into the lift as she searched through her bag for her room key. This was the problem with having bags big enough to throw a party in—you could never find anything.

      Why hadn’t she just slotted it into the back of the nametag holder hanging around her neck, like everyone else?

      She felt a nudge at her elbow and a deep voice asking, ‘Yours?’

      She looked up to see a fluffy pink miniature teddy in the palm of a big tanned hand. Pinky!

      ‘Oh, yes, thank you,’ she murmured, reaching for the toy that looked particularly girly in stark contrast to the very male hand.

      Her gaze wandered higher, and higher, a grateful smile on her face for the finder of such a precious item. Her breath caught at the very sexy man who smiled back. He looked tired. Lines around his eyes, tie pulled askew, unshaven jaw, dark, rumpled hair suffering from a bad case of finger-combing, but his gaze was lit with laughter, and the dimple in his chin? Well, that was plain sinful.

      Not to mention the intoxicating scent of him spicing the air around her.

      ‘You take it everywhere you go?’ he teased as he relinquished the object then buried his hand in his pocket.

      Miranda blushed as the humorous note in his voice did strange things to her equilibrium. Was he … flirting with her? Or just being nice?

      She really didn’t have enough practice with this kind of thing.

      ‘It’s not mine … it’s Lola’s,’ she clarified. Well, attempted to anyway but obviously failed as one nice thick manly eyebrow kicked up. ‘My daughter’s … Lola is my daughter,’ she explained, her fingers stroking absently along the soft pink satin patches delineating Pinky’s paws. ‘She’s four … well, nearly five actually … She’s not with me…’ she ended lamely, wishing the lift doors would just open already before she sounded any more socially