“Barbara McMahon takes a simple love story—

employer falls for the employee—and turns it

into a tale filled with romance, heartache

and love. While the basis for this novel may

be timeless, the issues both Caitlin and Zack

face are enough to give this novel the feeling it

has never been done before. These two

characters rock!”

www.loveromancesandmore.webs.com on

Caitlin’s Cowboy

“A great story, The Tycoon Prince is fit for any woman (and perhaps a few men) who wished they kissed a few less frogs and had more princes to sweep them off their feet!” www.aromancereview.com

“A fresh spin on some tried-and-true plot

elements makes this story work beautifully—and

its outspoken, honest heroine is a delight.”

RT Book Reviews on The Daredevil Tycoon

Muscular and fit, Declan didn’t look a day older than when she’d last seen him. His hair was still dark, not a strand of grey she could find. His eyes were a rich chocolate brown, focused on her now. She could have stared back forever. For a moment she felt as tongue-tied as that college student who had been so in love. She nodded slightly, clinging to her composure with all she had. Wishing he’d aged, grown a pot belly and lost his hair.

“Hello, Declan.” Yippee, her voice hadn’t cracked. She hadn’t stuttered or slapped his face. She also hadn’t expected the jolt of awareness that spiked through her. Taking a slow breath she tried to relax, to treat him like any other prospective client. Wishing she could forget the past that seemed to spring to the forefront. Why did long-dormant emotions have to blossom now?

BARBARA McMAHON was born and raised in the south USA, but settled in California after spending a year flying around the world for an international airline. After settling down to raise a family and work for a computer firm, she began writing when her children started school. Now, feeling fortunate in being able to realize a long-held dream of quitting her “day job” and writing full time, she and her husband have moved to the Sierra Nevada mountains of California, where she finds her desire to write is stronger than ever. With the beauty of the mountains visible from her windows, and the pace of life slower than the hectic San Francisco Bay Area where they previously resided, she finds more time than ever to think up stories and characters and share them with others through writing. Barbara loves to hear from readers. You can reach her at PO Box 977, Pioneer, CA 95666-0977, USA. Readers can also contact Barbara at her website: www.barbaramcmahon.com.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SAVANNAH Williams rolled over on her right side and pulled the covers over her head. It was morning, she could tell by the bright sunlight flooding her bedroom. But she was not ready to get up. She’d arrived home late last night after the airplane trip from hell. It had routed her all over the United States and got her to New York long after midnight when she’d been up before dawn on the west coast to make that first flight.

The apartment was quiet. Her sister was on assignment. She relaxed and tried to fall back asleep. Why hadn’t she put a blackout shade on the window? She just wanted a few more hours of rest.

The ring of the phone jarred.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” She threw back the sheet and stalked to the living room where the apartment phone was ringing. She’d turned off her cell, so naturally this phone had to ring.

“It better be good,” she snapped into the receiver when she snatched it up.

“Good morning, Savannah. It’s Stephanie. Did you have a good trip?” The cheerful voice was not what Savannah wanted to hear this early.

“The cruise was okay except it snowed two days. So much for lying on the deck while the children napped. And the two darling dears of Dr. and Mrs. Lightower were not the angels the parents purported them to be. I was never so thankful to end an assignment. Talk about spoiled brats! The flight home—or should I say the flights home—were horrible. I was routed from Alaska to LA to Dallas then Chicago, then I swear I thought I was going to be sent through Atlanta, but fortunately bad weather kept that airport off the schedule, so I got sent to Boston before ending up in New York at two o’clock in the morning!” She was practically yelling the last, but only heard Stephanie’s giggles in the background. So much for sympathy.

“I was trying to sleep in,” she grumbled.

“Oh, poor you. Go back to sleep in a minute. You have a new assignment and the client actually postponed his trip to make sure it coincided with your availability. This one’s right up your alley—one child, a teenager. Parents are divorced, mother has custody. However, the teen is with her father now and will be for the summer apparently. Could be a bonding experience for them, I suppose.”

“What could?” Savannah asked. She was growing wider awake the longer Stephanie kept her on the phone. For what? She was off the clock and wanted to catch up on sleep and fun before taking another assignment from Vacation Nannies.

“Backpacking in the High Sierras,” Stephanie said.

Savannah stared out the window to the sliver of a view of the Hudson River she and her sister enjoyed from their apartment. Glass and concrete and that tiny sliver compared to endless vistas of mountain ranges? Clear blue sky instead of the heavy layer of smog over New York?

But backpacking?

“How come Stacey gets to lounge around at the beach on the Med and I’m stuck lugging a heavy backpack on a trail where there won’t even be hot and cold running water?”

“Luck of the draw. Plus you’re our resident expert on troublesome teens.”

“Oh, joy, another challenge. When do we meet?” she asked. Rule number one of Vacation Nannies was that both parties had to agree to the assignment. Which usually worked to make sure the match between nanny and children was harmonious, but she had seriously been off with the Lightower children. Who expected them to behave so nicely at the initial meeting and then turn into terrors? Not that she hadn’t been able to cope, but the carefree cruise she’d anticipated had not been the case.

“Friday. If everything goes okay, you’ll depart next week and be gone three weeks.”

“How old’s the teen?” Savannah had specialized in adolescent behavior when getting her degree in education. She had a special bond for children who had reached the whacked-out stage of teenagedom, which included recalcitrant and defiant behavior.

“She’s fourteen. Lives here in New York.”

Savannah could hear papers being turned over, Stephanie was obviously referring to interview notes. She plopped down on the sofa, giving up any thought of going back to sleep until later. “Never mind giving me all the info. I’ll be by later to look at the file. Anything else I should know?”

“Do you have hiking boots?”

“Of course, remember my trip to the Adirondacks last fall? It was a glorious week tramping round the forest and enjoying at all the colorful foliage. The pair I got then are well worn in. How cold is it in the High Sierras in June?”