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Lip Service

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Lip Service

Skye Titan's wealthy father thinks he can still dictate his daughter's choice in men. Now widowed and a single mother, Skye isn't the yes-girl she once was. Especially since the love of her life is...
Skye Titan's wealthy father thinks he can still dictate his daughter's choice in men. Now widowed and a single mother, Skye isn't the yes-girl she once was. Especially since the love of her life is...
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Description-
  • Skye Titan's wealthy father thinks he can still dictate his daughter's choice in men. Now widowed and a single mother, Skye isn't the yes-girl she once was. Especially since the love of her life is back in Texas after eight long years. He won't like the answers to the questions he's asking. About why she left him at the altar. And about her eight-year-old daughter.

    Former Navy SEAL Mitch Cassidy comes home to find nearly everything different. His wounds from battle have changed the way people treat him. His cattle ranch is suddenly organic. But time hasn't touched his desire for Skye--or the sting of her betrayal. Forget lip service. He's asking that luscious mouth of hers to reveal the truth. But will Mitch be able to put the past aside to help Skye get out from under her father's thumb...and help himself recover from a broken heart?

 
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    "I'd like you to marry my daughter."

    Skye Titan was having enough trouble balancing a small tray with two drinks and a plate of appetizers in one hand while reaching for the study door with the other. A sudden inability to breathe only complicated the stability problem.

    Thirty seconds ago she would have thought that nothing her father said could surprise her anymore. She would have been wrong.

    Talk about humiliating, she thought, wondering if Jed Titan's statement was meant to buy a son-in-law or sell a daughter. With him, she couldn't be sure.

    "Izzy?" the other man asked, his voice clearly audible, despite the thick door between them.

    "No. Skye."

    "Oh."

    Skye waited impatiently.

    "Oh?" Was that the best he could do? Annoyance grew as time ticked on.

    "I guess that would work, too," the other voice said at last.

    Skye practically growled in irritation. Words to make her heart beat faster for sure. So charming. How was she going to keep from throwing herself at T. J. Boone when she walked into the study?

    If she had been any less the well-trained hostess, not to mention a dutiful daughter, she would have pushed open the door, tossed the drinks in both their faces and left the house, never to be heard from again.

    "Egotistical jackass bastard," she muttered, not sure if she meant the insult for T.J. or her father. They both deserved it.

    She forced herself to breathe slowly, then imagined herself sinking into the big tub in the bathroom off her bedroom. Bubbles up to her chin, a glass of white wine to take off the edge. She was calm and in control. She was going to do the right thing, because that's who she was. The good girl, dammit. The one who served drinks to men like T.J. and her father.

    Skye opened the door to the study and stepped inside the room. The two men stood next to the pool table. Jed didn't bother acknowledging her while T.J. looked momentarily uncomfortable. As if he wondered whether she'd heard him condemn her with faint praise.

    She smiled as she offered the successful businessman his drink, wishing she'd thought to spit in it first.

    "T.J.," she said.

    "Skye."

    He was good-looking, in a blond, blue-eyed sort of way. Tall and well dressed. He was a Texas boy and was probably charming, but it was hard to notice when the unenthusiastic "I guess that would work, too" was bouncing around in her brain.

    She set the appetizers on the table in the corner. "Is there anything else, Daddy?" she asked.

    "That's all, Skye."

    "Then I'll say good-night."

    Her hostess duties completed, her temper still firing, albeit silently, she left the room and walked to the stairs. Once on the third floor, she made her way to the last room on the left. During the day, it was a bright open space done in primary colors. A big bed sat by the window overlooking the main pasture. At night, shadows closed in, but seven-year-old Erin was never afraid of the dark. She wasn't afraid of anything. A quality she must have inherited from her father, Skye thought enviously.

    Now Erin lay sleeping, a tiny curled-up bump under the covers. Skye sat on the edge of the bed and stared down at her child.

    "I love you, Bunny Face," she whispered.

    Erin didn't stir.

    Skye rose and walked the few feet to her own bedroom. Her younger-by-a-year sister, Izzy, sprawled on the big bed, watching television. She muted the sound when Skye entered.

    "Don't you have a TV in your own room?" Skye asked.

    "Sure, butusing yours is more fun. Who's the guy?"

    "T. J. Boone. You're the one he wants."

    Izzy sat up, her dark...

About the Author-
  • New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery has entertained millions of readers with her witty and emotional stories about women. Publishers Weekly calls Susan's prose "luscious and provocative," and Booklist says "Novels don't get much better than Mallery's expert blend of emotional nuance, humor and superb storytelling." Susan lives in Seattle with her husband and her tiny but intrepid toy poodle. Visit her at www.SusanMallery.com.

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