The Mommy Makeover

They were worlds apart, but the night brought them together…

“You’re beautiful, Katie.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do. I’ve always thought so. Since the first moment I saw you. But I know you can’t see me as someone on your level,” Finn said.

She laid her hand on his arm, the movement gentle and the touch uncharacteristically intimate. “Don’t say that. I’m not what you think I am. I want to be like everybody else, to get married and have children. I want what everyone else has….”

“You can have it.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is. Or it could be. It’s a beautiful night, you’re a beautiful woman and I’m asking.”

“Asking?”

“You to marry me.” Finn held his breath. “I want you to be my wife….”

Dear Reader,

Welcome to another month of wonderful books from Harlequin American Romance! We’ve rounded up the best stories by your favorite authors, with the hope that you will enjoy reading them as much as we enjoy bringing them to you.

Kick-start a relaxing weekend with the continuation of our fabulous miniseries, THE DADDY CLUB. The hero of Mindy Neff’s A Pregnancy and a Proposal is one romantic daddy who knows how to sweep a woman off her feet!

Beloved historical author Millie Criswell makes her contemporary romance debut with The Wedding Planner. We are thrilled to bring you this compelling story of a wealthy bachelor out to find himself a bride…with a little help from the wedding consultant who wishes she were his only choice!

We’ve also got the best surprises and secrets. Bailey Dixon has a double surprise for Michael Wade in Tina Leonard’s delightful new Western, Cowboy Be Mine. And in Bonnie K. Winn’s The Mommy Makeover, a dedicated career woman is suddenly longing for marriage—what is her handsome groom’s secret?

With best wishes for happy reading from Harlequin American Romance…

Melissa Jeglinski

Associate Senior Editor

The Mommy Makeover

Bonnie K. Winn

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A hopeless romantic, Bonnie K. Winn naturally turned to romance writing. This seasoned author of historical and contemporary romance has won numerous awards, including having been voted one of the Top Ten Romance Authors in America, according to Affaire de Coeur.

Living in the foothills of the Rockies gives Bonnie plenty of inspiration and a touch of whimsy, as well. She shares her life with her husband, son and spunky Westie terrier.

Bonnie welcomes mail from her readers. You can write to her c/o Harlequin Books, 300 E. 42nd St., New York, NY 10017.

Books by Bonnie K. Winn

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

624—THE NEWLYWED GAME

646—WHEN A MAN LOVES A WOMAN

680—THE DADDY FACTOR

720—HIS-AND-HERS FAMILY

775—THE ACCIDENTAL MRS. MACKENZIE

812—THE MOMMY MAKEOVER

Contents

Prologue

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

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Epilogue

Prologue

The incomparable Houston skyline dazzled beneath the mammoth windows of the sixtieth-floor office. Resembling glitzy, gift-wrapped packages, the tall glass skyscrapers mingled with older, more stately stone buildings. Like the city itself, it was a courtship of old and new. But Katelyn Amhurst had little time to dwell on the dynamic view, even less to consider courtships.

She glanced skeptically at her longtime assistant, Daniel. They had gone beyond “boss” and “employee” years earlier. Daniel saw himself as a cross between mother confessor and drill sergeant. While Katelyn viewed him with tolerant affection, she often wished he would ease up on his compulsive need for control. “I want to stop smoking,” she told him, “but—”

“I thought you wanted to beat this thing,” Daniel interrupted persuasively, flipping back his precision-cut blond hair. It was his one vanity. Katelyn knew Daniel was currently pursuing a cute brunette in accounting. No doubt the extra grooming was for her benefit.

Katelyn concealed a grin. She wished someone would keep his attention so he would quit harping about her love live. Or rather lack of it. “I don’t know, Daniel. Subliminal tapes? Isn’t that a little simplistic?”

Offended indignation gripped his thin features. “When have you ever known me to be simple?”

“Point taken. Not that I haven’t hoped…”

He took a deep breath as a long-suffering expression descended on his face. “The tape will do wonders for you. In fact, I’d say it’ll turn your life around.”

“It’s a subliminal tape, not a brain transplant,” she replied, still not reaching for the cassette.

Daniel anticipated her next request and handed her the day planner, which had been buried beneath a foot-high stack of folders. “Or a personality transplant,” he muttered beneath his breath.

“What? Oh, thanks. I was looking for that.”

He sighed quietly. “I know.”

She flipped open to the mind-boggling schedule of meetings, appointments and other commitments. “I have the Franklin dinner tonight. Did you hire a new limo service?”

“Yesterday,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Now, are you going to let a pack of cigarettes control you, or do you want the tape?”

Katelyn frowned. She’d mapped out her life with the precision of a Rand McNally atlas. From her Ivy League education and brilliant advertising career to her equally well-thought-out decision to skip both marriage and children. Despite Daniel’s efforts to convince her otherwise, she knew that latter decision was wise. She had everything in her life under total control. Except the one habit she couldn’t quite kick—smoking. If Daniel’s tape might work…why not? Casually, she took the tape and tossed it on top of her desk.

Head bent, she missed the smirk on Daniel’s face. When she glanced up, she met guileless blue eyes. “You won’t regret this, Katelyn.” He slipped the tape into a Walkman. “Just be sure to listen to it.”

“I’m not in the habit of forgetting things,” she reminded him, putting the tape player in her purse. Her razor-sharp mind was legend—terrifying her underlings and impressing her superiors. But she and Daniel had worked together too long for him to be intimidated.

“No, but you are in the habit of resisting doing what you don’t want to do,” he retorted.

She squared her shoulders. “You make me sound like a willful child.”

“I’d rather think of you as an intelligent adult.”

“Ahem.” She studied his expression, searching for sarcasm. “Well, thanks. I think.”

“And, Katelyn?”

“Yes?”

“The tape only works if you really want it to.”

“I really, really want to quit smoking. Okay? Now, I’d better run. I’m meeting with Grayco in…” She glanced at her wristwatch and let out an uncharacteristic oath. “Fifteen minutes. I’ll take a cab, but tell the new driver to pick me up there after the meeting.”

“Your wish is my command,” Daniel replied as she gathered everything in an efficient flurry and headed to the door.

She glanced back. “I don’t know about that. Sometimes I’m not sure just who’s in charge.”

DANIEL MERELY smiled in reply, watching the whirlwind of contained energy she created as she issued orders, signed documents thrust at her and kept a constant path to the elevator.

His gaze focused on her purse, knowing it contained the tape. Not the one on smoking, as she supposed. No, the tape resting innocently in her purse was actually entitled, Embrace Your Femininity. Its subliminal message implanted suggestions designed to turn even the most ruthless barracuda into an old-fashioned, loving wife and mother. It also emphasized the rapidity of the biological countdown Katelyn claimed didn’t affect her. Everything about the tape was designed to push a woman straight into marriage and motherhood.

Something Daniel truly believed Katelyn needed.

She lived, breathed, and consumed her work.

Her work and nothing else.

Daniel knew that Katelyn limited her dating to only “safe” men—ones who were neither threatening nor potential mates. Katelyn had convinced herself she would be happy living alone. She reminded Daniel of his older sister, Cindy. She had believed a career would keep her warm at night as well. Now, Cindy was sad, bitter and inescapably alone.

Having come to regard Katelyn almost as a sister, Daniel didn’t want her to have the same fate.

Chapter One

Finn Malloy was hot. Figuratively and literally. Houston’s muggy heat was wilting his ever-so-proper chauffeur’s uniform and Katelyn Amhurst’s tardiness was doing the same to his normally even temperament.

The fact that she was a half hour late didn’t faze him—he knew executive meetings weren’t conducted by a stopwatch. Even an hour late didn’t bother him, but Katelyn had surpassed two hours and still wasn’t in sight. Finn wondered if she was even inside the damned building. Standing next to his car, he stared at the skyscraper and a mile-high wall of reflective glass stared back, giving no hint of who was inside.

Having not met the lady yet, Finn didn’t know if she was the type who habitually miscalculated the length of meetings, didn’t know how to manage time, or simply had no consideration for the poor slob of a driver waiting out in the heat.

He hoped she knew his clock started ticking when he pulled up in front of the building, not when she took a notion to step outside and into his limo. His operation might be a one-man show, but he maintained the same billing rates the big boys did.

Eventually he hoped to add at least one more car to his fleet. Fleet! Hah! Finn doubted anyone referred to a solitary limo as a fleet. But, every building started with a single piece of lumber or brick. And Malloy Enterprises was starting with this sole vehicle—one that the bank owned more of than he did, at the moment.

He glanced at his wristwatch and groaned. Two and a half hours. Maybe he should call her office and see if there’d been a change of plans. They had his cell-phone number, but maybe she was the type who suffered from the ten-broken-fingers syndrome, too.

Finn reached into his pocket for the phone, then paused. A woman was heading in his direction, but she couldn’t be the corporate crusher. No woman who moved like that could be a barracuda of the business world.

Her long hair, caught in a severe barrette, resembled a red flame in the sunshine, though he could see it was actually a combination of blond, gold, brown and red. High cheekbones competed with a sensual mouth for dominance in her arresting face. But his eyes really lingered on her lush figure, the long legs that stretched out endlessly, capped by ankle-breaking high heels.

No, it wasn’t in his stars to drive around a ripe morsel like that. With those long legs, she’d sashay right past his car…

“You, there. Look alive. I’m in a hurry.”

He stared blankly at her. Could it be?

Katelyn tapped her briefcase against the discreet limo logo on the car door. “You are the new driver, aren’t you?”

Finn straightened up, clearing his throat, hoping to clear the confusion as well. “Yes, ma’am. I’m Finn Malloy.”

Delicate brows arched upward as eyes of indeterminate color barely scanned him. She wore her indifference like the raw silk power suit that hugged her curves. “Fine. As I said, I’m in a hurry. I have to be at the River Oaks Country Club in less than an hour, but first we need to stop at my condo.”

She was in a hurry. That was rich. After he’d waited in the heat for more than two hours. “Guess your meeting ran overtime,” he commented, opening the door for her.

She grunted an unintelligible reply.

Seeing neither an explanation nor apology stirring, he closed her door and opened his own. He pulled away from the curb, the long car gliding effortlessly into the already crowded street.

Hearing a click, then smelling the distinctive aroma of a freshly lit cigarette, Finn frowned. “Ma’am. This is a no-smoking car.”

Watching in the mirror, he saw the displeasure cross her face before she inhaled deeply, then rolled down her window and stubbed out the cigarette.

He couldn’t make any exceptions. Too many passengers wouldn’t ride in a car that even faintly smelled of cigarette smoke. But she didn’t complain. He guessed she knew the tide had turned against smokers—especially since it was becoming more and more difficult to find places to smoke.

Glancing again in the rearview mirror he saw that she had donned a pair of seriously dark-rimmed glasses and was absorbed in a deep stack of papers. Apparently, she was up to her neck in work. Hell, he could cut her some slack. She probably hadn’t enjoyed being in a meeting that ran over by two hours any more than he’d enjoyed waiting for her. “So, you the one who got stuck doing homework?”

“Hmm?” she responded after a moment without looking at him, her head still bent downward.

“The papers. Are you the only one who had to stay after school?”

She finally glanced up, annoyance clouding her features. “School? You must be confused. I work for Ellington Advertising. I would have thought you’d know that from your dispatcher.”

“Right.” He’d have to remember that if he ever hired a dispatcher. Apparently, her job description didn’t include having a sense of humor.

He let the silence build in the car for a few minutes, but he wasn’t the sort of person who was comfortable with silence for long. “So, you got a big night planned at the country club?”

“Um,” she replied, once again not bothering to lift her head.

She was a real live one, he thought with disgust. She might look like a million bucks, but her conversation wasn’t worth two cents. Still, he persevered. “Gotta go home and change first, huh?”

“Ummm.”

At this rate he could talk himself to death.

“Guess you want to knock ’em dead.”

At this she did glance up. He met her frosty eyes in the rearview mirror. “I assure you it is not my intention to ‘knock ’em dead,’ nor is what I wear any of your concern.”

Frosty? Make that Antarctica frigid. He was surprised that ice hadn’t formed on the windows, despite the exterior heat. “No, ma’am.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously before she returned them to her work.

Finn reached over to fiddle with the radio knobs, considering choosing a hard-rock station he knew would blast her prim little behind right off the seat. Instead he inserted a richly melodic Rachmaninoff tape that seemed to suit anyone he’d ever driven. He preferred it to the icy silence.

He rapped his fingers against the wheel in time to the music as he navigated through the growing traffic. Choosing to forego the freeway, knowing it would be snarled during commuting hours, he swung off onto a little-known alternate route. Of course, the ice princess lived in the trendy Galleria area. He could have guessed that without the information provided by her assistant.

Accustomed to her rigid silence, he nearly jumped when she spoke. “Where are we?”

“Headed to your condo.”

“Via Guatemala?” she questioned, staring out at the unfamiliar neighborhood.

He laughed, even though he doubted she meant to be funny. “Not quite. This way we’ll miss most of the traffic. Don’t worry. I know this city better than most people know their lovers.”

There was a momentary silence and he guessed she wasn’t comfortable with his point of reference.

“Be that as it may, Mr….”

“Malloy,” he supplied. “Finn.”

“Mr. Malloy,” she continued, ignoring his first name. “I prefer to not be driven through hell’s half acre. Safety is just as important a consideration as traffic.”

“You said you have to be at the country club in an hour. If I took the freeway, we wouldn’t even be at your condo in an hour.”

“Mr. Malloy, are you deliberately trying to be difficult?”

He grinned into the mirror, meeting her eyes, which now looked to be a cloudy gray. “No, but I’ve been told it’s one of my natural talents.”

“I doubt I’d term that a talent.”

“There are enough yes-men in the world. Don’t you get a charge out of something different?”

“I don’t get a charge out of risking my life to travel home.”

“You’re not in any danger. Besides, I can protect you if we run into trouble.”

“I’m not impressed with muscles, Mr….”

“Malloy,” he supplied again. “Finn.”

And again she ignored his first name. “…Malloy. I’m impressed with efficiency.”

“And you don’t think a person can have both?”

“It hasn’t been my experience. Now, Mr. Malloy, I have work to do.”

“Hey, sorry lady.”

Meeting her gaze in the rearview mirror, he had the impression she was silently counting to ten. “My name is Ms. Amhurst. I trust you can remember that.”

“Probably every bit as well as you can remember mine,” he replied pleasantly, his grin taking the sting out of his well-placed barb.

She harrumphed in reply and turned her attention back to her work. And despite a few more tries at conversation on his part, she didn’t respond. It was as though she’d set her hearing to the off position. When he pulled up in front of her condo a short time later, she didn’t comment on the remarkably quick time he’d made, nor anything else for that matter. Instead, she moved those delicious-looking legs of hers inside at warp speed.

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll be fine outside in the heat. No, I don’t need anything cold to drink—even if I have been waiting hours for you, without so much as a sip of water. Don’t give it another thought.” His words rang in the empty parking lot and he glanced upward at the windows he guessed were hers. Firmly drawn blinds covered the glass—no surprise there. He hadn’t met such an uptight woman in…He doubted he’d ever met such an uptight woman.

Finn was tempted to step back into the car to turn on the air-conditioning but he had a hefty gasoline bill to keep an eye on. He figured she’d be quite a while, even though she said she needed to be at the country club soon. He just hoped she didn’t intend to set another lateness record.

Having parked in the shade, Finn opted for pulling his cap over his eyes as he leaned against the limo’s immaculate fender. Settled in for a lengthy wait, he was startled when he heard the tapping of high heels only fifteen minutes later, followed by her voice, already barking orders.

“Let’s get moving, Malloy,” she ordered, grinding out a cigarette beneath one shoe.

Apparently if she dropped the “Mister” she could remember his name, he thought wryly. “Yes, ma’am.”

He offered a mock salute, before turning to open the rear door. But then he took a look at her—a really good look. She’d swept all of that marvelous hair up, revealing a long, shapely neck. A diamond necklace winked from between ample cleavage and a thigh-high slit in her long form-hugging gown flashed those incredible legs. He guessed she dressed to impress and intimidate. Nose in the air or not, she was one hot package.

Until he looked into her eyes. No longer seeming to be gray, they were the same rich blue as her gown—and as frosty as the rest of her glacial expression.

Finn stared at her curiously. “Do you have on different colored contacts?”

She glared at him. “I don’t wear contacts.”

“Then your eyes really do change color?”

“Yes. Not that it’s any of your concern. You’re paid to drive, Malloy, not ogle.”

“Sorry about that, Ms. Amhurst. You’re not like most of the clients I drive,” he replied, stifling his instinctive response.

“Perhaps I’ll request a more experienced driver next time,” she told him as she slid inside. “One who’s accustomed to all types of clients.”

Neat trick if you can manage it, he thought, wondering what she’d think if she knew he was Malloy Enterprises’s solitary employee. He was owner, operator, driver, dispatcher, accountant and salesman. Which reminded him that he needed this contract—more than he needed to antagonize Ms. Amhurst. “I’m in the process of getting that experience, ma’am. I appreciate your patience.”

She harrumphed before settling back in the seat.

With uncharacteristic silence he headed toward the country club. He could almost hear her unspoken surprise. It was nearly as much fun keeping her in suspense as actually needling her. She could believe he was bowing to her wishes, and at the same time he wouldn’t be antagonizing the hand that fed him.

Within minutes, they pulled up to the gatehouse of the prestigious River Oaks Country Club where entry was permitted only to a select few. But his passenger’s impeccable credentials shot them past the guard in moments.

Finn stopped in front of the massive entryway and opened the passenger door. Despite her standoffish manner, he couldn’t help admiring Katelyn’s elegant appearance. Silhouetted against the soft-pink aged brick, she looked as though the ornate building had been designed strictly as a backdrop for her. Then she broke the spell.

“Be here precisely at twelve.”

“Or my limo will turn into a pumpkin?” he responded with a charming smile intended to break the ice.

She gave him a long-suffering look. “Don’t be late, Malloy.”

He tipped his hat and then saluted. “No, ma’am.”

She turned, obviously dismissing him and he watched her walk inside, enjoying the gentle sway of her hips, the occasional flash of long legs.

“Knock ’em dead, Cinderella,” he muttered. Glancing at his watch, he realized he had time to go home and try to get a grip on things. With several hours of paid time to do as he pleased, perhaps driving the ice princess wouldn’t be so bad after all.

KATELYN FELT the dull, throbbing beginnings of a headache. Resisting the urge to rub her temples until she was safely out of sight, she smiled heartily at the executives from the Franklin Group as they left the dining room.

While the dinner hadn’t run overly long, it had been an excruciating four hours. The subtle balance between business and flirtation made her feel like she’d walked a tightrope all night. She knew it was part of being a woman in a male dominated executive world, still she wished she could simply concentrate on business and restrict the annoying male/female thing to her personal life. Katelyn grimaced at her last thought. As though she had time for a personal life.

She escaped to the smoking room and enjoyed one leisurely cigarette, waiting until she was certain the men from the Franklin Group were gone.

Katelyn sighed. Time to find her irksome new driver. Why couldn’t he just be one of the many bland, quiet little men who’d usually been her drivers? No chatter, no double entendres to deal with. He’d learn, like previous ones, that she took no guff. He’d either straighten up or lose the firm’s contract. With that thought in mind, she stalked toward the limo. Luckily for him, he was there on time, early in fact since it was only eleven-forty-five. And, he was at attention. Perhaps he just made a bad first impression or had been gripped with nervous chatter.