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Lori Copeland - The Best of Lori Copeland: Playing for Keeps a Tempting Stranger

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    The Best of Lori Copeland: Playing for Keeps a Tempting Stranger
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The Best of Lori Copeland: Playing for Keeps a Tempting Stranger: summary, description and annotation

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Two outstanding contemporary romances in one volume. At 17, Jessica Cole married the only man she had ever loved, but things didnt work out. Eight years later, Jason returns and seeing Jessica renews all his old feelings for her. A Tempting Stranger: Chandra Long agrees to pose as a strangers wife, but she plays the part too well--and he doesnt want to let her go. Reissue.

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Page 7
Playing for Keeps & A Tempting Stranger
Lori Copeland
Page 8 A LEISURE BOOK January 1993 Published by Dorchester - photo 2
Page 8
A LEISURE BOOK
January 1993
Published by
Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
276 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10001
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as ''unsold and destroyed" to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this "stripped book."
PLAYING FOR KEEPS Copyright MCMLXXXIII by Lori Copeland
A TEMPTING STRANGER Copyright MCMLXXXIII by Lori Copeland
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.
The name "Leisure Books" and the stylized "L" with design are trademarks of Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
Printed in the United States of America.
Page 9
PLAYING FOR KEEPS
Page 11
Chapter One
The sound of a lone rooster loudly crowing its good morning to the world filtered slowly into the bedroom of the old two-story armhouse as Jessica Cole nestled between the light sheets on the bed that had been hers through all her childhood years. She drowsily opened her eyes to see the faint streaks of dawn breaking gently over the horizon. Her eyes moved languidly around the old familiar room, stopping to rest lovingly on the small photograph sitting on her dressing table. The clear images of Uncle Fred, Aunt Rainey, and herself as a child laughed happily back at her. Tears filled Jessica's eyes as she allowed herself to think about why she had been summoned home once again.
Page 12
It was still hard for Jessica to realize that Aunt Rainey had followed Uncle Fred so swiftly in death. Just six months ago Jessica had come home to help Aunt Rainey bury Uncle Fred under that same old spreading oak where they had laid Aunt Rainey to rest just two short days ago. Jessica sighed softly as she turned on her side, the faint light in the room growing ever brighter.
Uncle Fred and Aunt Rainey had been well loved in this small Texas town. Of that Jessica had been assured the morning of Aunt Rainey's funeral. Jessica had sat at the small grave site, her eyes roaming slowly over the old familiar faces that had been so much a part of Jessica's life ever since Uncle Fred and Aunt Rainey had taken her into their home as the child they were never able to have, following the death of her own parents in an automobile accident when she was only four years old.
She could still hear Aunt Rainey's weak voice, two days before her death, saying to her, ''You were ours as surely as if I had given birth to you myself. Fred and I were never blessed with the children we always wanted," she whispered in a tired voice. "Not that the Lord hasn't been real good to us," she hastened to add. Her eyes took on a soft misty look as she continued. "We had each other, and I've thanked the good Lord every day for that, but there's just something special about a child in a man's life. It just kinda completes things. So when God seen fit to send you to us, well... You've been a good girl, Jessie, and we loved you," she finished.

"Oh, Aunt Rainey," Jessica murmured. "I loved both of you so much!" A tear slid silently down her cheek as the old rooster crowed once again. Was it only a few days ago that they had talked and held each other's hands, trying to give some small measure of comfort to each other?
Jessica shifted restlessly as she recalled the group of mourners, her mind unwillingly focusing on the tall man
Page 13
who had stood just to the left of the old tree, his hat in his hand, his head bowed. The sun glistened brightly on his thick golden-brown hair, causing Jessica to catch her breath momentarily. He was just a little over six feet tall, his tanned skin gleaming a dark bronze against the pale green of his western-cut suit. His shoulders were straight and broad. His massive chest tapered down to a lean waist and slim hips, where his perfectly tailored trousers were molded to his muscular legs and thighs. There should be a law against anyone looking that good, Jessica thought resentfully. Why was it her rotten luck to see him, on top of all the other painful old memories? Her eyes traveled slowly back up his perfectly proportioned body, and she blushed deeply as his brilliant jade-green eyes locked with her soft violet ones. She lowered her eyes quickly back to the grave.
Her attention snapped back to the comforting voice of the minister. As she heard his voice saying the amen she lifted her head once again and encountered the unwavering gaze of Jason Rawlings. The moment passed fleetingly as the mourners began moving away from the grave. Several stopped by the chair Jessica was sitting in to offer soft condolences, a gentle pat on the arm, words of sympathy. Pastor Franklin stepped to her side, taking her arm as they started slowly toward the long black limousine waiting at the side of the road. Her good-byes had been said the night before at the funeral home. Now it was simply a matter of getting to the car and driving away. Somehow it didn't seem to be enough. Her misty eyes rested on the light-gray casket one final time as the long black car pulled out of the cemetery onto the dusty road.

Now, in her bedroom, she closed her eyes for a moment, letting her thoughts drift lazily back to Jason Rawlings. Of course, he would have been there in spite of that one mad, crazy night eight years ago. He hadn't been at Uncle Fred's funeral because he had been out of town on busi-
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