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Perfect Match
Emilie Rose








A Perfect Match

Emilie Rose









www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Contents


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8




Chapter One


No man should be forced to endure a baby shower.

Tate Sumner fingered the irregularly shaped piece of cardboard in his pocket. He’d been ordered to mingle until he found the guest whose puzzle piece linked with his, and then they were supposed to mimic the way the pieces fit together with their bodies. Leave it to his matchmaking sister Sandy to turn her baby shower, traditionally a females-only affair, into a dating service. Ha, ha. Hilarious. Not. At thirty-four, he sometimes felt out of sync-too young for marriage and all it entailed, but too old for singles games.

In the last hour he’d worked his way through the crowd without a match and without enthusiasm, although he had to admit, there’d been a few amusing tussles as the mostly single, twenty-something guests linked up. No doubt the free-flowing alcoholic beverages had loosened their inhibitions.

He didn’t overindulge anymore. The hell-raising and skirt-chasing days he’d once enjoyed had come to an abrupt end after a building collapse landed him in the hospital last year, making him realize how short life was. Before that life-changing event, he’d have let one of the blond twins beside him convince him to go home with her tonight. He subtly checked his watch and then shot another glance at the front door. No offense to Tia or Leah, but he’d rather catch the second half of the Braves game.

The doorbell rang. His sister unearthed herself from a pile of torn pastel wrapping paper and waddled to answer as fast as her due-any-day-now pregnant belly would allow. And then she screamed and launched herself at the poor victim on her welcome mat. With his luck the newcomer would be his match, and he’d be making a human puzzle piece out of himself soon. Not an anticipated event.

His sister dragged the visitor into view, and Tate nearly dropped the glass of spiked lemonade someone had forced into his hand. Faith King. He hadn’t seen her since his youngest sister Sandy had married Faith’s brother, David, two years ago. Faith’s strawberry blond hair hung in a smooth, glossy curtain curling just below her jawline. He missed the tangles he’d created during their passionate night after the rehearsal dinner.

Desire kicked him in the gut. They’d torched the sheets that night, so he hadn’t understood the deep freeze Faith had treated him to the next day at the wedding and reception. Sure, he’d expected a little morning-after awkwardness since they’d fallen into bed without the usual get-to-know-you dance, but he’d hoped they’d fill in the gaps during the remainder of the weekend. It hadn’t happened.

Faith had avoided him as if he’d exposed her to something contagious.

And then, in a fit of wounded pride, he’d had a pint too much champagne at the reception, danced with every female present and shot off his mouth with a lousy toast. Yeah, he’d been a real prize. A prize idiot.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” Faith dragged her rolling suitcase over the threshold. “The storm delayed my flight. I didn’t even stop by the hotel. I had the taxi bring me straight here.”

Her slightly husky and somewhat breathless voice sucked Tate right back to their middle-of-the-night tussles. They’d christened his sofa, his bed and even his kitchen counter. For years he’d craved the carefree bachelor life he’d been denied while helping to raise his younger sisters, but in the days preceding Sandy’s wedding Faith had made him want more than one wild weekend. She’d tempted him to forget the promise he’d made to himself to savor the freedom that came with getting his last sister out of the house and finally being responsible for only himself.

“You have men at your baby shower.” Faith scanned the gathering with a frown, and then she spotted him and his wannabe companions. His heart kicked irregularly as her shock-widened blue eyes inspected him from cowlick to boots.

Her lush lips compressed, and her gaze hit his with the same arctic blast he remembered from their final encounter. After seeing off the bride and groom that day, he’d asked Faith for her number. She’d slammed the car door in his face. Her glare tonight indicated they wouldn’t be sharing a fond reunion. The knowledge slid down his spine like a hot cinder.

His sister Sandy wiggled her fingers, motioning Tate forward. He excused himself from the twins and joined his sister. “You remember David’s sister, Faith, don’t you?”

Oh yeah. Every luscious curve of her. He had no trouble recalling Faith’s scent, the silkiness of her skin, her gasps of passion or the hot, wet clench of her body.

“She wanted to be here for her niece’s arrival.” Sandy’s words dragged him back to the present.

He locked gazes with the woman who starred in his dreams far too often. “Faith.”

“Tate.” Her tone could give a man frostbite, but the blush tinting her cheeks confirmed she hadn’t forgotten what had happened between them, either.

“Faith is checking into the Hilltop Inn for a few days. Next week she’s closing on a brand-new house here in Chapel Hill.” Sandy nudged him. “Put her suitcase in my room for now, would you, Tate? And get her a drink, please.”

His heart pumped harder. Faith would be living minutes away in town instead of eight hours away in Atlanta. He offered her his glass. “Here. Take mine. I haven’t touched it, but watch out for the kick. My twisted sister enjoys watching her guests get sloshed while she stays sober.”

Faith extended her hand. Their fingers brushed as she took the drink and current flowed from her fingers to his. Her eyes widened, but quickly filled with wariness.

“Thank you.”

His sister took Faith’s umbrella and propped it against the wall. “Do you have your puzzle piece?”

Faith blinked and averted her gaze. “Yes. It’s in my purse.”

“Dig it out, introduce yourself to everyone until you find your match. Tate can explain the rules of the game. I need to sit down.” Sandy winced, pressed a hand to her lower back and waddled slowly back to her chair, leaving Tate with Faith in the foyer.

“How are you?” he asked. Faith looked incredible-still curvy in all the right places.

She dug in her leather purse and withdrew the puzzle piece. Tate rocked back on his heels. Interesting. It didn’t take a fireman who spent too many hours of downtime at the station assembling puzzles to see that Faith’s piece was counterpart to the one in his pocket. His impatience with the stupid party game evaporated, and his blood hummed in anticipation of fitting his body to hers.

Coincidence? Or was his sister matchmaking?

“I’m well. Good to see you again, Tate. Excuse me, I need to mingle with the other guests and find my match. Don’t let me keep you from your friends.” She delivered the words in a polite, but chilly, brush-off.

He produced his piece of the puzzle and aligned it with hers. “No need. I’m your man.”

“Match!” shrieked Sandy from the living room, confirming Tate’s matchmaking theory. God bless little sisters. He took back every negative thing he’d ever said about the baby of the family.

“Know what that means, Faith?” He took the tumbler out of her hand and set it on the credenza.

She shifted on her feet and bit her luscious bottom lip. “No.”

“It means we get to simulate the interlocking puzzle pieces with our bodies.” Damn, he couldn’t wait. He barely restrained himself from rubbing his hands in glee.

Scowling, she looked at her piece. It had the jutting male projection, whereas his had the indented female shape. The pieces fit together perfectly-just as he and Faith had that night. A moment passed and then Faith lifted her hands to his shoulders. He cupped her waist, and his heart thumped in expectation of her tongue in his mouth, but then she swiftly lifted her knee toward his groin. He sucked in a swift breath and tensed in anticipation of pain.

She stopped just short of her target. “Need I continue?”




Chapter Two


Faith King watched the gleam in Tate-the snake’s-green eyes turn from seductive to cautious. She ignored the strength and heat of the thick shoulder muscles beneath her hands, lowered her knee and stepped out of reach before the urge to tangle her fingers in his short dark hair and seal her lips to his won out over common sense.

A muscle ticked in Tate’s rock-hard jaw. “You’ve made your point.”

Two years ago she’d been rapidly cartwheeling into love during her brother’s pre-wedding festivities. Tate had been playing a game…or so Faith had learned when she arrived at the church to dress with the bride and the other bridesmaids. The women had been laughing about firefighter Tate’s reputation for starting sensual fires all over town, and wagering on which wedding guest he’d go home with that night. No one had known Faith had just spent the most passionate night of her life in his bed.

In seconds, she’d gone from euphorically believing she’d finally found Mr. Right to the sinking realization that she’d been just another body to Tate Sumner.

Sandy had explained that Tate had wild oats to sow because he’d spent his teens and twenties acting as a father figure to his four younger siblings after their father died. If Faith had doubts about Tate’s interest in a long-term relationship, his wedding toast had certainly clarified them.

“I don’t know why any man under fifty would settle for just one woman, but good luck, pal, and by the way, I’ll break your legs if you hurt my sister.”

“You’re moving to town.” Tate’s direct gaze pinned her in place and caused her pulse to quicken. She’d forgotten how good he smelled and how his brawny build made her feel delicate and protected. She hadn’t forgotten the strength of his arms as he held her, but not for lack of trying on her part. Nor had she forgotten he was a charmer like her father.

“Yes. I wanted to be near David, Sandy and my soon-to-be-born niece. I’ve accepted a position as a physician’s assistant at the hospital.”

“How about dinner tomorrow night?”

She nearly choked. Did he think she’d fall back into his bed as easily as she had the first time? Never mind that Tate had the sexiest, greenest eyes she’d ever seen or strong, capable and talented hands. She was wise to his seductive ways and had no intention of being sucked in by his charming smile or clever words again. “No thanks. I try not to repeat my mistakes.”

He blinked, briefly covering his eyes with long, thick lashes any woman would envy, but his confident smile didn’t waver. “Your loss, Faith. I remember how hot we were together even if you don’t.”

She hardened herself against the sexy rumble of his voice and tried to ignore the temptation nipping at her heels. “Perhaps your memory is faulty.”

A wicked grin lifted one corner of his edible mouth and carved a crease in his cheek-a crease she’d traced with her tongue once upon a time. “Maybe you’re afraid you can’t live up to my memories.”

Her molars clicked together. “And maybe you’re overestimating your charms and those memories are not worth revisiting.”

His grin faded. “I didn’t hear you complaining. In fact, I could swear your screams of pleasure are what made my neighbor hammer on the apartment wall and ask us to keep it down. He didn’t realize keeping it down around you was impossible.”

Fire rushed through Faith’s veins. She lifted her chin and pretended that incident hadn’t been the most embarrassing and yet hilarious moment of her life. Tate had carried her from the kitchen back to the bedroom where they’d made love with silent laughter. She’d never had so much fun making love before. “It’s amazing how far a woman will go to bolster a man’s ego. If I remember correctly you needed a little…encouragement.”

Tate’s eyes darkened. “For crying out loud, we’d made love three times in as many hours. Did you expect me to go off like an adolescent each time? And I don’t remember you complaining about the extra action.” He grabbed her suitcase and marched with it toward the bedroom.

Faith fisted her hands and counted to ten. Was she an idiot? Why goad him? Certainly, his stamina had put her previous lovers to shame. And yes, she’d loved the fact that Tate had unselfishly delayed his pleasure until she’d found her own. And darn it, why couldn’t she forget how good he’d made her feel in bed and out of it?

Swallow your pride and keep it friendly, Faith. Sandy worships her brother, and David is the only family you acknowledge. Exclude Tate and you could be excluded. “Tate, wait.”

She followed him into Sandy and David’s bedroom and then wished she hadn’t. Standing beside Tate and a bed melted her like candle wax. He’d been an amazing lover. Probably because he’d had so much practice, she reminded herself bitterly. “My gift for the baby is in my suitcase.”

His thick biceps bunched as he effortlessly lifted the case onto the bed as if it hadn’t gone over the airline’s weight limit, and then he stepped back to allow her access, but he didn’t leave the room. She wished he had as soon as she unzipped and opened the case. Her lingerie lay on top, and her skin burned as she dug through the colorful bras and panties to reach the gift-wrapped package cushioned beneath them. She shoved a pair of pink panties-the ones he’d pulled off her with his teeth that night-to the bottom of the case.

“Where is the house you’re buying?” he asked.

She closed the case before meeting his gaze. Clutching the gift to her chest she replied, “Rocky Creek.”

“Nice neighborhood. My district. Station Six. Give me your address and I’ll have the platoon look out for you when I’m off duty.”

Faith shifted her jaw and considered his words. “Are you being nice or are you just trying to get my address?”

“I could get your address from Sandy or David, but I’m asking you. You’re family now.”

Family. Everyone seemed to have their own definition of the word. Faith shoved back her hair and immediately recalled the gentle tangle of Tate’s fingers in the strands. “Why can’t you just accept that night was a mistake, and I’m not interested in a repeat?”

“Because when you lie you get a tiny red patch right here.” He traced a blunt finger over the skin at the top of her breastbone just below her locket. Faith’s breath hitched and her pulse leapt. Her brother had a big mouth. He must have told Tate about the telltale sign. That spot had been the bane of Faith’s childhood. She’d never been able to get away with anything.




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