I Do! I Do!. Pamela Toth

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      Mitchell was so close she could have reached up and kissed him.

      If he wasn’t her boss, she would have been strongly tempted. Of course, if he kissed her, she wouldn’t protest. It might even be a good idea to get it behind them so they could work together without her wondering…

      Lizbeth could tell when a man wanted to kiss her, and Mitch showed all the signs as the silence spun out between them. His eyes had darkened and his cheeks were flushed.

      Anticipation made her breathless.

      But as voices sounded down the hall, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Shall we go back inside?” he asked.

      She couldn’t very well disagree. Still, as she followed him back to the noise and the crowd, she would have given a lot to know what he was thinking…

      To all the friends and fans who have offered me

      encouragement over the years.

      To my daughters, Erika and Melody,

      for their unwavering support.

      To my husband, Frank,

      for his unconditional love. And for all those

      dinners out when a deadline approached.

       PAMELA TOTH

      Bestselling author Pamela Toth was born in Wisconsin, but grew up in Seattle where she attended the University of Washington and studied art. Now living on the Puget Sound area’s east side, she has two daughters, Erika and Melody, and two Siamese cats.

      Recently she took a lead from one of her romances and married her school sweetheart, Frank. They live in a town house within walking distance of a bookshop and an ice cream shop, two of life’s necessities, with a fabulous view of Mount Rainier. When she’s not writing, she enjoys travelling with her husband, reading, playing on the computer, doing counted crossstitch and researching new story ideas. She’s been an active member of Romance Writers ofAmerica since 1982.

      Her books have won several awards and they claim regular spots on bestselling romance lists. She loves hearing from readers and can be reached at PO Box 5845, Bellevue, WA 98006, USA. For a personal reply, a stamped, selfaddressed envelope is appreciated.

      Dear Reader,

      October has always been a month of transition for me. Gardening chores are done, the barbecue put away until spring, but Christmas preparations are still just a blip on my horizon.

      My daughters have long outgrown the need for Halloween costumes, the witch hat made of black cardboard, the princess dress sewn from flowered sheets. Instead, I display pumpkins made from ceramic and glass, buy too many sweets and make stews instead of salads.

      As a writer, I enjoy exploring transitions of a larger kind, choices that change lives, often in ways that are unforeseen. Sometimes what a person thought she wanted isn’t what she truly needs.

      Independence doesn’t mean going it alone, and sharing isn’t the same as weakness. Sometimes a person figures it out before it’s too late, or perhaps she’s lucky enough to find someone who’ll wait, who’ll forgive and love her, and be there for the happy ending we all hope to find.

      I wish you every happiness, but most of all I wish you love.

       Pamela

      I Do! I Do!

      PAMELA TOTH

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

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      Prologue

      Lizbeth Stanton adjusted the neckline of her low-cut pink top and straightened the waistband of her black leather miniskirt. Sucking in a deep breath, she pushed open the door to the card room at the upscale Thunder Canyon Resort where her fiancé, Dax Traub, was playing poker with his buddies and his brother, DJ.

      “Well, hello, boys,” she drawled, posing dramatically with one hand on her hip as all six men seated around the table stared up at her.

      For a moment, the room was silent except for the scrape of chairs as the Cates brothers rose to their feet.

      “Evening, Lizbeth,” said Marshall Cates. The doctor’s cocky grin, handsome as that of a soap opera star’s, sent a shiver of feminine appreciation through Liz. She had dated him a few times, but they’d never been serious. His younger brother Mitchell stood silently beside him. If he smiled more often, Mitch might be even better looking than Marshall. Liz had a weakness for black hair and dark eyes.

      “Oh, don’t get up on my account,” she exclaimed with a trace of sarcasm as her gaze swept past them to the others, her fiancé included, who were still seated as though their butts were glued to their chairs.

      Reluctantly they, too, stood up. Russ Chilton and Liz’s boss, Grant Clifton, wore faintly disapproving expressions. Everyone knew that Russ’s attitude toward women was a century behind the times, but Grant was usually happier to see her.

      Perhaps she shouldn’t have come, but she had wanted to remind Dax of just what he was missing by insisting on spending his evening with the guys instead of with her. Especially when she had the night off from her job tending bar here at the resort.

      “I had to check my schedule, so I thought I’d just say hi,” she explained, giving each man her most flirtatious smile. If Grant doubted her excuse, he didn’t comment, but both of them knew that she worked a set shift, alternating weekly between days and evenings.

      “Well, if it isn’t the second most beautiful woman in Montana,” exclaimed DJ with a pointed glance at his brother. Their sibling rivalry had resulted in a fist fight at the grand opening of DJ’s restaurant a few weeks before. According to Dax, they’d buried the hatchet after that—and not in each other’s skulls. Tonight he ignored DJ’s dig.

      “Could you be just a little biased since you finally talked the beautiful Allaire into marrying you?” Marshall asked, peering at DJ.

      It was one of those weird coincidences, probably the result of living in a small town, that Dax had proposed to Liz right after DJ and Allaire, Dax’s ex-wife, had announced their engagement. Obviously people who said that Dax was still carrying a torch were wrong.

      Liz waited for him to insist that she was prettier, but he remained stubbornly silent, arms folded across his chest and a frown on his handsome face. It was Mitch Cates who finally came to her defense.

      “Of course Allaire’s very pretty,” he said with his attention fixed on his pile of chips, “but comparing a blonde to a redhead is like choosing between a delicate flower and a fireworks display. They’re both beautiful, but each in its own way.”

      “What a sweet thing to say,” she replied with a reproving glance at Dax. “Thank you, Mitchell.”

      His dark eyes flicked up to meet hers for an instant as red color stained his cheeks. How could such a brilliant and successful businessman still be so shy, especially around his former high school buddies?