Tempted in the Tropics Read Online Free PDF Page A

think about was the cowboy hipster doctor who’d kept her awake all night…and not for the reasons she would’ve liked. How crazy was she, wondering what it would be like to kiss a guy who was set to do real damage to her business?
    Cyn’s lip turned up in a slow grin. “He’s hot, isn’t he?”
    Paige shook her head quickly. “What makes you say that?”
    “I might’ve seen you blush a total of three times in my life. Now it’s been four.”
    Paige couldn’t deny the heat rising in her face. “It’s not because he’s hot. It’s because I’m pissed. There’s nothing I’d like more than to outsmart Dr. Know-It-All Anderson.”

Chapter Three
    Lane stood gaping at the sheer size of the carved-cherry front doors of Hawthorne Manor. He held a wrapped bouquet of winter flowers—all red, purple, and white. It was as if he’d stepped out of quaint Maple Creek and onto the grounds of a European mansion, complete with formal gardens, outbuildings, stables, and a cobblestone circular driveway with a huge fountain in the center. He’d seen and visited some awesome homes—even grew up in one—but this place was remarkable even in the context of those.
    After Lane had accepted the offer to see his uncle’s patients for a month, Uncle Pete had kept his briefing to mostly business—except he’d forgotten to mention the Special Recipe deal with Paige. But one thing he had told Lane about the social workings of the town was that Mrs. Fairleigh Hawthorne practically ran Maple Creek, even though she’d never held public office. If Lane could keep her happy, everything else would fall into place. If he couldn’t, everything would fall apart. Since he was aiming to keep a low profile while he decided where he’d set up his next practice, he’d no doubt heed his uncle’s advice.
    He had barely unpacked a thing before Mrs. Hawthorne’s invitation to dinner had arrived in a fancy envelope that looked more like something that held the name of an Oscar winner. Curious about the storied Mrs. Hawthorne, Lane had accepted. He’d rather know what he was facing up front than ignore her and pay later. According to his uncle, that wouldn’t have been the wisest move. Evidently that strategy had been tried before and only resulted in trouble.
    The last thing Lane needed was more trouble—he’d already had plenty of that in Austin. And a healthy dose of it last night in the form of Paige Ellerbee and her “magic.” She might look like a hip Disney princess with her long blond hair and those dazzling golden-brown eyes, but there was no way he would fall under her spell and risk coming under suspicion again. What she and his uncle were doing was technically legit, but he couldn’t afford to get into technicalities. Another brush with the law and his medical career would be over.
    One of the massive front doors swung open and a butler appeared in the doorway. A butler in Maple Creek? The guy was kind of short and nearly bald, with a jolly-looking face and wire-rimmed glasses. His suit strained over his round belly. Lane couldn’t help but think that boded well for dinner—the food must be tasty and plentiful here at Hawthorne Manor—but things weren’t looking so good for the butler’s health.
    “Welcome to Hawthorne Manor,” he said in a smooth baritone voice, gesturing for Lane to step inside. “I’m Henry.”
    “I’m Lane Anderson.” He nodded politely and went in.
    “Cocktails will be served in the parlor.” Henry led him though the expansive foyer where stylish oriental rugs covered the slate floor beneath an arched ceiling three stories high. They passed a ballroom-sized living room on one side and a library on the other. Farther down the hall, they entered a cozier room that was still as big as a country church, with more oriental rugs, several seating areas, and a huge fireplace with a larger-than-life portrait of a stately older woman hanging over the mantel. Fairleigh Hawthorne? Lane shifted his gaze