The Good Father. Kara Lennox

on>

      For a moment, Max was paralyzed

      He’d never had to deal with a situation like this. But when Kaylee took another step forward, looking as if she wanted to climb into his client’s lap, instinct drove Max to move. He reached out, snagged Kaylee’s hand and drew her toward him.

      He could return her to her mother with some strong words about keeping the child out of his hair, as Jane had promised to do. Instead, he scooped Kaylee onto his knee. She looked up at him with big, questioning eyes, and Max prayed she wouldn’t let loose with an earsplitting scream as she had the day before.

      But after a moment or two she looked away and settled into his lap, shoving her thumb into her mouth.

      Finally the meeting concluded, and Kaylee was fast asleep, drooling slightly on Max’s shirt.

      He had to admit it was a rather nice feeling, having a little girl trust him to this degree.

      MILLS & BOON

       Before you start reading, why not sign up?

      Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

       SIGN ME UP!

      Or simply visit

      signup.millsandboon.co.uk

      Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

      Dear Reader,

      Everyone yearns to be part of a loving family, one in which love is given and taken in equal measures, where each person contributes, and each person has a voice and is given respect. I’m so lucky to have been born into a big, noisy, loving family in which I was encouraged to grow and develop my talents, to be whoever I wanted.

      Not everyone is so lucky, however. In The Good Father, I wanted to explore the feelings of characters who have never been part of a warm and loving family. They’ve had fleeting glimpses of it in their lives, but they’re both afraid to reach out for what they want, lest they be disappointed yet again.

      Of all the heroes and heroines in the SECOND SONS trilogy, Max and Jane are probably the most complex. What they show the outside world only scratches the surface. I confess this book made me cry when I wrote it (think Kathleen Turner at the beginning of Romancing the Stone).

      I hope you enjoy Max’s and Jane’s journeys toward love and belonging. With this book, the Remington cousins’ story is complete. Their uncle Johnny, who put everything in motion, would be proud.

      Best,

      Kara Lennox

      The Good Father

      Kara Lennox

      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      Texas native Kara Lennox has earned her living at various times as an art director, typesetter, textbook editor and reporter. She’s worked in a boutique, a health club and an ad agency. She’s been an antiques dealer and even a blackjack dealer. But no work has made her happier than writing romance novels. She has written more than fifty books.

      When not writing, Kara indulges in an ever-changing array of hobbies. Her latest passions are bird-watching and long-distance bicycling. She loves to hear from readers; you can visit her Web page at www.karalennox.com.

      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

      Epilogue

      Chapter One

      Jane Selwyn’s knees felt watery as she made her way across the steaming asphalt parking lot toward the three-story office building. The Remington Agency was her last chance for gainful employment in Port Clara. In the span of a few short weeks, she’d gone from pampered, rich man’s wife to begging for a job from the man who had unwittingly broken up her marriage.

      Not that the marriage hadn’t already been gasping its dying breaths. But Max Remington’s flirtations had finished it off in a hurry.

      Jane stepped into the building’s cool interior and checked her appearance one last time in the lobby mirror. She straightened the lapel of her red power suit and glossed on another layer of lipstick. Her silk blouse was already damp and sticking to her skin—August in South Texas was brutally hot, even on the coast. Still, she looked the part of a successful executive. Unfortunately, her pathetically slim portfolio told a different story.

      For six years she had devoted her days to keeping herself and her home beautiful for her husband and raising their daughter. Scott had freaked out whenever she even mentioned getting a job. But now it was just her and three-year-old Kaylee, and no money. Employment was a necessity.

      Everyone said she was crazy to ask for so little in the divorce. But no one had known how desperate she’d been to get out with no one else hurt. Now she was the proud owner of a sleek cabin cruiser—her settlement—and a single mother of a gorgeous child, both of which ate away at her meager savings.

      She never would have applied to the Remington Agency if she hadn’t exhausted all other possibilities.

      The agency was on the third floor of Port Clara’s nicest office building. Jane paused before the door and sent up a prayer that Max would see past the humiliating events of their early acquaintance, past her short résumé, and give her a chance.

      She straightened her spine and opened the door, then sucked in a breath of surprise. She hadn’t expected a local ad agency to be quite so upscale. Though the reception area was small, it screamed class with its stone floor, rough limestone walls, and water cascading down a waterfall in the corner. With all the ferns and the muted lighting, she felt as if she’d entered a small corner of a rain forest.

      A stylish woman of indeterminate age sat at a semi-circular desk that looked as if it had erupted right from the stone floor. She smiled serenely at Jane.

      “May I help you?”

      “I’m Jane Selwyn. I have an interview with Mr. Remington at one o’clock.”

      The receptionist, whose nameplate said she was Carol Washington, looked at Jane with sympathetic brown eyes. “Didn’t you get my message?”

      Oh, no. Her cell phone had run out of juice just before lunch. Currently it was charging in her car. “I didn’t check my voice mail,” Jane stated without apology. “Is there a problem?”

      “Mr. Remington had to run out—some type of printing emergency. He told me to extend his apologies.”

      “Oh.” Jane almost sagged with disappointment. “Can I reschedule, then?”

      “Actually, Mr.