Anyway you can find it at http://www.amberquill.com/HeartsToHeal.html
Hearts To Heal by Gwynn Morgan ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-533-2 (Electronic) ISBN-13: 978-1-61124-844-9 (Paperback)
Here is the cover again and below another excerpt at the point the heat begins to come on ;-). And below, there's a picture of me in my blue cast when I was recovering from the accident that started this book as an idea! I lived in that darn chair for most of the six weeks I wore my cast. I think this was the day I went to have it removed--as Bonnie has just done in the excerpt below!
She smiled, a self-conscious little smile, and nodded. "Yes, I'm walking. I can't get a shoe to quite match the height of my cast and cast boot, though. Heels are too high and everything else is too low, so I feel-lopsided."
"You look gorgeous." He was unable to stop himself from that comment, appropriate or not. "Like you're ready to go to a party."
"She is," Jennifer declared, reentering the dining room. "There's a party right here. We're celebrating, aren't we, Bonnie?"
Tearing his gaze away from Bonnie long enough to look at Jennifer, he saw she, too, was dressed up. At first, he wasn't sure whether he liked the effect or not. A brief black slink of some clinging fabric slithered over her body, showing off the girl's developing figure. On a woman Bonnie's age, it would have been one sexy outfit.
Hell, it was sexy on Jennifer! And he didn't like that a bit. What was his little girl doing, looking fifteen going on twenty-five? Her makeup was obvious, nothing subtle about it at all. The high-heeled black sandals she wore added at least three inches to her normal five-foot-eight, putting her almost eye-level with him.
He looked back at Bonnie, whose anxious gaze darted between him and Jennifer as she measured his reaction to his daughter's appearance. Bonnie's concern decided his response in an instant. He'd ignore the provocation of Jennifer's too-mature new look, at least for this evening. He could not dampen Bonnie's glow of pleasure by involving her in yet another acrimonious discussion. No one outside the family was going to see Jennifer tonight, anyway. He'd deal with that issue later.
"I feel like I brought the OR home with me. Give me about ten minutes to shower and change. Then I'll be ready to join you."
Better make that a cold shower, he amended to himself, as he took one last look at Bonnie before heading for the safety of his room. She looked like the wholesome
……. (they have dinner here. Afterwards Jennifer and her visiting friends ask to be excused and return with a wrapped gift which they give to Bonnie.)
As he reached to pull Bonnie’s chair out, he couldn't resist the urge to touch her bare shoulder. The tawny skin felt as silky and inviting as it looked, warm beneath his hand. He sensed the delicate tremor that ran through her before he moved his hand onto the chair. She turned her head sending her hair slipping across his fingers, a delicate brush stroke that sizzled through him.
A faint vanilla-cinnamon scent emanated from her skin, from that silky, gorgeous hair. Would her skin taste the same way, if he put his lips there, just inside the thin line of the strap? Before he could test his sudden notion, the three girls returned in a flurry of giggles. Jennifer had her hands behind her. When she extended them toward Bonnie, he could see she held a small package.
Bonnie blushed. "You didn't need to do that! I mean all of this; it's too much. I feel...I'm embarrassed. There's no way I can repay all you've all done." Her glance swept to meet Jerry's for an instant and then moving on to include Mercedes and Jennifer and her friends.
"We wanted to." Mercedes and Jennifer spoke together, the exact same sentiment.
"Yes, we did," Jerry agreed. Bonnie glanced back at him, and her blush deepened.
"Open it...open it," Suz cried.
Bonnie sat back down. With great care, she carefully undid the silver ribbon and worked loose the tape holding the peach-colored paper around the small package. The girls fidgeted and giggled.
"Hurry up!" Jennifer demanded. "We're dying to see what you think."
Folding the paper back, Bonnie revealed three CDs. "Oh, wow! Oh, my gosh. The sound track from Salena and Los Lonely Boys and...oh, this really is too much!"
"You told me you liked salsa music and loved Salena," Jennifer explained. "And that it would be too quiet, alone in your house, so Suz and I got these for you."
Of course, they had to listen to the three discs. They all trooped into the rec room. Jennifer put the three discs in the player and then, as an afterthought, lowered the volume a few notches.
Jerry watched Bonnie as the first strains of a jaunty Norteano cumbia tune poured out. In a moment, she began to tap her good foot and move with the music.
"Do you know how to dance to this?" Jennifer asked. "If you do, you've got to teach me, 'cause I think it is so cool."
"Yes, you've got to, you've just got to!" Suz seconded.
Bonnie stood and in slow motion, sketched out a few of the basic steps. The girls copied her and soon were getting into the mood of it. She sat down and let them have the floor.
After dancing through a couple of songs, Jennifer crossed the room and grabbed Jerry's hand. "Come on, Dad. You try it with me."
He set aside the drink he'd asked Mercedes to prepare--a margarita, in keeping with the evening's theme. He was determined he would not allow any call-outs tonight. Other doctors could take any emergencies. The tequila had gone to his head, in spite of the food, and left him feeling mellow.
He laughed. "You'll be sorry, squirt. I've got two left feet when it comes to dancing. I'll be stepping all over your toes."
That wasn't altogether true. He'd done his share of dancing in high school and college, and still sometimes took his dates out dancing if they indicated a liking for it. Picking up the basic steps was not hard, and before the first disc finished, he'd danced with all three of the girls. Bonnie clapped her approval.
The second disc was the Salena one, the first song a poignant ballad. Acting on impulse, Jerry crossed to Bonnie and held out his hands. "Come on...this is a slow one. All you have to do is sway to the music. You can do that, even with a cast on."
At first, she shook her head. "No, I won't be able to," she protested. "I'll probably fall or something. I've only been walking since two o'clock."
"I'll hang onto you," he promised.
"Yeah, come on," Jennifer urged. "Just one song."
It ended up being three, one after another. And, before the second was over, Jennifer herded her friends off to her room with an explanation that they had to see the photographs she'd taken at school which she'd just downloaded from her phone to her new tablet. Mercedes had retired to the kitchen, or perhaps her apartment off the garage. Jerry and Bonnie were left alone with melancholy words of lost love and loneliness whispered to the sensuous beat of a traditional acoustic guitar.
Jerry found Bonnie made an amazing dance partner, even in a cast. She moved with the grace and lightness of a gymnast, a natural athlete. He could feel when she started to grow tired. He tried to take more of her weight in the support of his arms around her. Finally, they slowed almost to a stop, just swaying to the music as he had suggested.
He absorbed the heat of her pliant body, letting it warm the last weary tension from his hands. Through the thin cotton dress, he could feel the gentle curve of her ribs, the shifting of the work-toned muscles on her back. He absorbed her lush, feminine shape along with the heat and the vital energy she exuded.
When she turned, bowing her head to rest against his shoulder, her hair swirled out, tickling under his chin. He bent to bury his face in the dark cloud of it, inhaling the tantalizing scent that seemed to be uniquely Bonnie's. Coupled with the tequila warming him inside, that scent made him dizzy.
"Am I really holding you up or are you holding me up?" He asked the question into the top of her head, the soft strands clinging to his lips as he spoke. "I'm starting to feel like the room is revolving around us. I think Mercedes gave me a double shot in that margarita."
Bonnie giggled. "If you aren't holding me up, I'd better sit down. My legs are starting to feel like jelly. Is this room awfully warm, or is it just me?"
He stopped. He released her to move both hands to her shoulders, holding her at arms' length. She tipped her head back to look up at him, unconsciously offering him the curve of her throat, almost as tempting as her rosy, parted lips. The tender hollow above her collarbone, those two bare shoulders...sites for a hundred kisses. Sites he had to sample.
When she recognized his intent, her eyes widened for an instant and then fluttered shut. She didn't move away, didn't tense or stiffen as he half-expected her to.
They were caught up in a moment outside of time, separate and distinct from reality and everyday life. In the distance, a sultry voice crooned urgent words of love in Spanish, while the guitar beat became quicker and more demanding.
Slipping past an intoxicating cloud of vanilla and cinnamon, silken hair, and feminine heat, Jerry found Bonnie's lips and took possession. Her mouth was warm and firm, but yielding, parting in welcome, tasting of chocolate, sweet fruit and sizzling spice. He tasted her thoroughly, savoring every subtle nuance of flavor and texture in a long, leisurely kiss.
He moved his hands again, dropping one to circle behind her, coming to rest at the hollow of her back, at the very point where the outward curve of her elegant little tush began. The other rose to cup her head, fingers weaving into the luxurious cascade of hair. Then his lips took possession of hers again.
Some seconds later, he pulled away from her lips and bent to nuzzle under her chin. From there, he moved to trace the line of her collarbone with the tip of his tongue. There her skin held a trace of salt along with the sweetness. She shivered at the moist touch, her fingers tightening on his shoulders.
Only two thin layers of fabric, his T-shirt and her dress separated their bodies. He felt her nipples harden, thrusting against the confining material, as if seeking closer contact. At her back, his hand slid lower, curving over the outward slope of her derriere to press her closer to him. He wanted to caress those eager breasts, too, but with which hand? If only he had a third so he would not have to abandon either of his current holds.
Caught in an elemental urgency, he spared no thought to where they were, or to any of the reasons this should not be happening. Then, at the outer periphery of awareness, a door slammed, and girlish, giggling voices sounded, coming closer.
Bonnie stiffened and jerked free of his hold. Color washed up over her shoulders and throat to flood her face. Then it faded, leaving her unnaturally pale. She stumbled back two steps and sank onto the couch.
"Santa Madre, what in the world were we doing? What were we thinking of?"
Her words hissed out in a shocked, taut whisper. She reached up and scrubbed a hand across her lips, as if to wipe away all trace of his kisses.