Dr Di Angelo's Baby Bombshell. Janice Lynn

      

      Dr Di Angelo’s Baby Bombshell

      Janice Lynn

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      Table of Contents

       Cover Page

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

       Chapter One

       CHapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Epilogue

       Copyright

      Janice Lynn has a Masters in Nursing from Vanderbilt University, and works as a nurse practitioner in a family practice. She lives in the southern United States with her husband, their four children, their Jack Russell—appropriately named Trouble—and a lot of unnamed dust bunnies that have moved in since she started her writing career. To find out more about Janice and her writing, visit www.janicelynn.com

      To Anna Sugden—true friends are precious treasures and you’re a jewel that sparkles brightly in my life. Thank you for the years of laughter, shared tears, and unfailing support. Love you!

      CHAPTER ONE

      “I NEED you to pretend to be madly in love with me.”

      Startled by the request, Dr. Blake Di Angelo tapped his thumbs against the sleek surface of his mahogany desk, thinking that perhaps the petite blonde pacing across his Knoxville medical office had already gone mad.

      “You’ll have to repeat that, Darby.” He leaned against his leather chair’s backrest, eyeing her with more than a little curiosity. “Because I don’t think I heard you right.”

      His business partner paused long enough to bestow a glance on the bluest eyes that side of the Mississippi. Eyes that were usually sparkling with laughter. Not today. Today, her fingers clenched around a card of some sort, Dr. Darby Phillips’ eyes were clouded with displeasure.

      “You owe me.” Her expression dared him to deny her claim. “Last weekend of the month. You’re going with me to Alabama and you’re going to pretend to be goo-goo-ga-ga, head-over-heels in love with me the entire time.”

      His brow arching at her determined expression, Blake grinned. God, she was bossy. He liked it. Had always liked Darby’s assertiveness and self-assurance. From the time he’d met her four years ago, she’d been driven to be the best at everything she did.

      “Why am I going to do this?” He couldn’t resist teasing. Mostly because he knew how to push her buttons to have her going from zero to through the roof.

      She started pacing again. “Because you owe me, and I’m collecting.”

      Blake’s eyes traveled over her curvy little frame encased in a no-nonsense navy business suit, exposing shapely legs beneath her skirt hem. The shirt was tucked into a waist that his hands would probably fit around. Her breasts—well, he knew better than to let his thoughts go there. He valued their business relationship too much to acknowledge her as the desirable woman she so obviously was.

      “And because of this.” She tossed the embossed card onto his desk and shuddered. “Which I’d completely forgotten about.”

      She turned those big baby-blues on him again, stared with such beseeching that his insides shifted off axis enough to make his world wobble, to make him want to take her into his arms and promise he’d fix whatever had her so upset.

      “How could I have forgotten that was this year? This month?” Panic brewing in the blue depths, her gaze bored into him. “I really don’t need the headache of looking for a date who’ll no doubt get the wrong idea by an invitation to something so personal. But I do need a man for that weekend.” Taking a deep breath, she lifted her shoulders and took on the expression of a seasoned soldier, readying for battle. “Tag, you’re it.”

      Blake picked up the card and studied the fancy maroon and gold embossing more closely. Armadillo Lake Ten-Year High School Reunion. “Don’t they usually give folks more notice than two weeks for these kinds of things?”

      Darby muttered something under her breath. “Usually.”

      “You could go without a date.”

      “Oh, no.” Stray pale blonde tendrils loosened from her upswept hair danced at her almost violent headshake. “I’d rather not go than go dateless.”

      “Then don’t go. Problem solved. No one says you have to go to your high school reunion.”

      Although he had meant to, he hadn’t gone to his. Darby had been sick with the flu and he’d covered for her at the hospital instead. No big deal, since he’d moved so often he’d never gotten particularly attached to any of the numerous private prep schools he’d attended.

      She let out an exasperated sound. “It’s not that simple. Besides, you owe—”

      “Yes, I know,” he conceded.