Cinderella and the Playboy / The Texan's Happily-Ever-After. Karen Rose Smith

      CINDERELLA AND THE PLAYBOY

      LOIS FAYE DYER

      AND

      THE TEXAN’S HAPPILY–EVER–AFTER

      KAREN ROSE SMITH

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

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CINDERELLA AND THE PLAYBOY

      Dear Reader,

      I was intrigued when my editor asked me to be a part of THE BABY CHASE series. First, because fertility clinics can be beacons of hope for couples with fertility issues. And second, because I was charmed by the prospect of writing a hero who loves women and balances a playboy personality with a passionate commitment to his patients. And third, because I’ve never been able to resist a romance novel about a rake falling in love at last, especially when the woman who owns his heart is an independent, wary career woman and single mother of an adorable little girl.

      I had so much fun watching Dr. Chance Demetrios meet his fate in beautiful Jennifer Labeaux. And to add icing on this particular cake, Chance finds himself feeling ferociously parental and protective toward Annie, Jennifer’s adorable little girl. How can you not love a guy who is charmed and enchanted by a red-haired sweetly precocious child? And how can you not cheer for Jennifer, a woman who’s strong enough and wise enough to choose a mate like Chance?

      I hope you enjoy reading Cinderella and the Playboy—I thoroughly loved writing Jennifer and Chance’s story.

      Warmly,

       Lois Faye Dyer

      About the Author

      LOIS FAYE DYER lives in a small town on the shore of beautiful Puget Sound in the Pacific Northwest with her two eccentric and lovable cats, Chloe and Evie. She loves to hear from readers. You can write to her c/o Paperbacks Plus, 1618 Bay Street, Port Orchard, WA 98366, USA. Visit her on the web at www.LoisDyer.com.

      With my heartfelt thanks to Karen Edgel,

       hospice nurse, in Republic, Washington

      Chapter One

      “Hey, Jennifer—Dr. Demetrios just walked in.”

      Jennifer Labeaux noted her friend Yolanda’s mischievous grin before she glanced over her shoulder. As usual, her heartbeat sped up at the sight of the tall, dark-haired male striding toward her section of the Coach House Diner.

      Dr. Chance Demetrios was easily six feet four inches tall and built like a linebacker. He wore his black hair a shade long and his eyes were a deep chocolate brown—eyes that twinkled, charmed and seduced Jennifer with each conversation they shared.

      She watched him slide into his usual booth, third from the back, with a view of the Cambridge, Massachusetts, street outside. He always sat in her section. Jennifer was torn between being flattered and wishing he wouldn’t single her out. Not that she disliked him—quite the contrary. He made her yearn for things she knew she couldn’t have and she was far too attracted to him for her own good. No doubt about it, Chance was too sexy, too rich and too high-octane for a waitress whose most sophisticated night out was visiting her neighborhood ice-cream shop with her five-year-old daughter.

      Over the past six months, she’d seen Chance nearly every morning. There was no mistaking the male interest in his eyes but his persistent friendliness and good-natured acceptance of her refusals when he had asked her out had slowly but surely eased, and then erased, her natural wariness. The conversations she’d overheard between him and other customers only increased his appeal. He appeared to be genuinely interested in the lives of the diner regulars.

      Even if dating were possible in her life at the moment, she’d never date Chance Demetrios, she thought with regret. Rumor had it that he loved women and went through girlfriends like a PMSing woman went through chocolate bars. Despite being powerfully attracted to him, Jennifer knew he was out of her league. If she ever became involved with a man again, he wouldn’t be someone with a stable of women.

      She tucked a menu under her arm, picked up a glass of ice water and a fresh pot of coffee and walked to the booth.

      “Good morning, Dr. Demetrios,” she said with a bright smile. “What can I get you?”

      “Morning, Jennifer.”

      His deep voice seemed to linger over her name, sending shivers up her spine and heat curling through her belly.

      Determined to ignore her rebellious body’s reaction, Jennifer kept her gaze on the thick coffee mug as she poured. She steeled herself, setting down the pot and taking out her pad and pen. Despite preparing herself, however, meeting his gaze was a jolt. His dark eyes were warm, appreciative and filled with male interest.

      And then he smiled. Jennifer had to fight to keep from melting into a pool of overheated hormones.

      “The usual?” Thank goodness her voice didn’t reflect her inner turmoil, she thought with relief and not a little surprise.

      “Yeah, please,” he said, his smile wry. “And maybe you can just hook up an IV with black coffee.”

      “Late night?” she asked with sympathy. Her gaze moved over his face, noting the lines of weariness she’d been too preoccupied to notice earlier. His dark eyes were heavy lidded and his jaw shadowed with beard stubble. He looked as if he’d either just rolled out of bed—or hadn’t gone to bed at all. “Did you work all night?”

      He shrugged. “Back-to-back emergency calls.”

      “You work too hard,” she commented.

      “All part of being a doctor.” He smiled at her. “I knew the job had lousy hours when I signed on.”

      She lifted an eyebrow at his reasoning. “Maybe so, but if you don’t sleep, how are you going to function?”

      He glanced at the Rolex on his wrist. “Maybe I’ll catch a nap on my office sofa before my first appointment.”

      “Good plan.” Jennifer heard the cook call her name and realized she’d been chatting too long. “I have to go. I’ll tell the other waitresses you need your coffee topped often this morning.”

      “Thanks.”

      Taken in by his appreciative smile, Jenny forced herself to nod pleasantly and turn to her next customer.

      Through half-lowered lashes, Chance sipped the hot black coffee and watched her walk away. He suspected the employees and regulars in the diner weren’t fooled by his attempts to play down his interest but he couldn’t summon up the energy to care if they knew he loved looking at her. She wore the same attire as the rest of the waitresses—black slacks and white shirt under a black vest. But with her long legs, lush curls and graceful carriage, the clothes took on a different vibe on Jennifer. The diner’s