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One Snowbound Weekend...
Christy Lockhart
Dazed and injured, Angie Burton battled a blizzard to get home, only the thought of her husband's warm, strong arms keeping her going. But Angie wasn't prepared for the icy reception that awaited her–or the realization that she had no memory of walking out on the man she loved.Shane Masters had sworn off women forever. But now he was holed up with the last woman he'd vowed would ever melt his heart. Yet Angie remembered only their love, and Shane couldn't deny the way his ex-wife still set him afire with her smoldering glances and sizzling touch. In one snowbound weekend, could Shane learn to forgive his long-lost bride and reclaim the promise of forever?
“How Long, Shane?
How Long Have I Been Gone?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Angie reached for him, curving her fingers around his shoulder. He was her only anchor. She needed him. Her voice hoarse, she whispered, “It matters to me.”
He looked at her squarely. “Five years. You left me five years ago.”
She gasped. Not months, but years. Years of her life had vanished.
Instantly he covered her hand with his. Something in her stomach, warm and deep, fluttered. No matter what happened, she still responded to his most casual touch.
“Your daddy kindly answered a few questions for me. He said when you were done playing house with a man who wasn’t your social equal, you begged him to bail you out. When your memory returns, I’ll have a few questions for you.”
“Like…?”
“For starters…why the hell are you sleeping in my bed?”
Dear Reader,
Silhouette is celebrating our 20th anniversary in 2000, and the latest powerful, passionate, provocative love stories from Silhouette Desire are as hot as that steamy summer weather!
For August’s MAN OF THE MONTH, the fabulous BJ James begins her brand-new miniseries, MEN OF BELLE TERRE. In The Return of Adams Cade, a self-made millionaire returns home to find redemption in the arms of his first love.
Beloved author Cait London delivers another knockout in THE TALLCHIEFS miniseries with Tallchief: The Homecoming, also part of the highly sensual Desire promotion BODY & SOUL. And Desire is proud to present Bride of Fortune by Leanne Banks, the launch title of FORTUNE’S CHILDREN: THE GROOMS, another exciting spin-off of the bestselling Silhouette FORTUNE’S CHILDREN continuity miniseries.
BACHELOR BATTALION marches on with Maureen Child’s The Last Santini Virgin, in which a military man’s passion for a feisty virgin weakens his resolve not to marry. In Name Only is how a sexy rodeo cowboy agrees to temporarily wed a pregnant preacher’s daughter in the second book of Peggy Moreland’s miniseries TEXAS GROOMS. And Christy Lockhart reconciles a once-married couple who are stranded together in a wintry cabin during One Snowbound Weekend.…
So indulge yourself by purchasing all six of these summer delights from Silhouette Desire…and read them in air-conditioned comfort.
Enjoy!
One Snowbound Weekend…
Christy Lockhart
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For Pam, brainstorming partner who believes;
for Whitney, chief researcher,
and for Lisa, my Designated Worrier.
Also for Dad, ’tis great to have you in my life…
CHRISTY LOCKHART
married her real-life hero, Jared, who proved to her that dreams really do come true. They live in Colorado with their two children, Raymond and Whitney.
Christy remembers always wanting to be a writer. She even talked her elementary school librarian into “publishing” her books. She notes always preferring romances because they’re about that special moment when dreams are possible and the future is a gift to unfold.
You can write to Christy at P.O. Box 448, Eastlake, CO 80614.
Contents
Chapter One (#u649923e9-359c-5031-9f0c-0f1825739ea8)
Chapter Two (#u90eb9aec-0ede-5635-afbd-dea9dbadbee1)
Chapter Three (#u4db163a8-4e60-5b2b-a9bf-3e600fb826d3)
Chapter Four (#u99d10f73-3bbb-54ed-b1ec-3c71cacab5fc)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
One
Shane Masters’s ax froze in midswing.
Blinded by the wind-whipped snow, his eyes had to be playing tricks on him.
There was no way his ex-wife was fighting her way through a Colorado blizzard toward him.
Hardhat, Shane’s yellow Labrador, barked and ran circles around Shane’s legs, warning him about the approaching stranger. That meant Shane wasn’t hallucinating.
He dropped his ax on top of the woodpile and stared into the distance. Steps unsteady and her slender body beaten by ice daggers driven from the sky, she continued onward.
If he didn’t resent Angie’s intrusion into the life he’d rebuilt, he might have admired her courage.
As it was, he’d sworn he never wanted to see her again. Over five years ago, he’d toasted that determination with a whiskey bottle and never looked back.
Narrowing his green eyes and folding his arms across his chest, he waited.
When she was about five feet away, she pitched herself at him.
Instinctively he caught her, unprepared for the feel of her trembling, feminine body pressing against him and the strong, unwelcome wave of desire that walloped him.
“Thank God I made it home,” she whispered.
Home? Columbine Crossing hadn’t really ever been her home, and she hadn’t been back since their divorce.
“The thought of you, waiting for me, worrying about me, kept me going when I wasn’t sure I could take another step.”
Her words plowed reality back into focus.
She burrowed her head against his down-covered shoulder, and tendrils of her light brown hair cascaded down his coat. Then she laid one hand on his chest, near where his heart suddenly thundered.
His blood, dulled by the wind’s wicked bite, slowly warmed. And his insides tightened painfully in physical response to her innocent touch.
He didn’t welcome the reaction, nor did he want to be vulnerable to the woman who’d destroyed his trust and shattered his heart.
Hardhat barked, and Shane forced himself to go rigid. Although his gut twisted, urging him to draw her closer, he released the hand he’d unthinkingly slid around her slender waist.
Angie uncurled her fingers and glanced up at him, a question in her wide, expressive blue eyes.
It was then, when he really looked at her, that he saw the angry cut carved on her forehead, vivid red splashed against the paleness of her skin. He didn’t want to care. But anger couldn’t replace concern. “What happened to your head?”
She reached a trembling hand to the cut. Wincing, she said, “I don’t know…” Her brow furrowed as she frowned. “I must have hit it on the steering wheel of the car.”
“What car?”
“Our car. The one we bought in Durango.” The words were slowly formed, as if concentrating took huge effort. “Maybe you were right about it needing a new alternator.”
His mind raced to keep up with what she was saying.
“When I woke up, I was…was in the ditch.”
He scowled, searching her features. Her blue eyes glazed over. And it hit him.
She was in shock.
All the words he’d dreamed of hurling at her dried in his mouth. “You were in an accident?”
“I guess so.” She swayed.
He grabbed her again, this time swinging her from the ground and up into his arms.
“I’m okay,” she protested.
“Right.” With strides shortened by the foot of fresh snow, he started toward his cabin.
“I knew you’d take care of me.”
He ground his back teeth together. Until this moment, he couldn’t have said he’d have taken care of her. In fact, that was the last thing he wanted to do.
Reaching up an icy hand, she traced the line of his cheek, just the way she had the night they first discovered each other, when he’d taught her about passion….
But she’d given up the right to touch him—physically or emotionally—when she’d divorced him to marry another man.
Running ahead of them, Hardhat pushed through the snow with his nose, flinging flakes everywhere.
“When did we get a dog?”
“When did we get a dog?” he echoed.
“I don’t remember…”
Something more icy than the snow shivered down his spine.
“What’s her name?”
“His name is Hardhat.”
“Why don’t I know that…?”
Shane opened the cabin door. This much, she’d surely remember. He’d rented the small house the day before their wedding so she and his sister, Sarah, would have someplace other than a rickety trailer to call home.
He’d bought the cabin after Angie left, not out of any sense of nostalgia, but as a solid, constant reminder that women shattered hearts and devastated homes.
Inside, he kicked the door closed, locking out the storm’s vicious lash.
Ignoring the fact he trampled snow across the honey-colored hardwood floor, he carried her into the living room and set her on the couch. “We need to get you out of those wet clothes,” he said, yanking off his gloves and tossing them on the throw rug.
Hardhat immediately grabbed one and ran toward his mat, placing a triumphant paw on the glove.
“Angie? You need to take off your jacket.”
“Where’s Sarah?”
His brows drew together. His sister was at college, where she had been for two years. “With friends,” he said.
Angie didn’t respond, nor did she move.
Her hands, whitened from exposure to the brutal elements, trembled as she reached for the coat’s zipper. How long had she been outside, and how far had she walked?
Shane didn’t want the answers to matter. But they did.
