Montana Mavericks Books 9-12 [Secure eReader]
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eBook by Laurie Paige & Rachel Lee & Alison Kent
eBook Category: Romance
eBook Description: Tough cowboys who you can't help but fall in love with. The series concludes with Books 9-12: Father Found by Laurie Pagie, Baby Wanted by Cathie Linz, Man With a Past by Celeste Hamilton and Cowboy Cop by Rachel Lee.
eBook Publisher: Harlequin/Bundles
Fictionwise Release Date: February 2007
This eBook is part of the following series:
8 Reader Ratings:
Moriah Gilmore let herself into the apartment. Silence greeted her. With a frown, she went into the kitchen and deposited the heavy grocery bag on the counter. Her arm trembled with the effort. She sighed and looked for a note on the refrigerator.
Mom, I'm at Jessy's. We're studying for a big test.
Her mom said I could have dinner with them. Okay?
Moriah smiled. Yes, it was okay. Jessy and Melanie were both A students, merit society and all that. They also worked on the school paper, an honor because only two juniors were chosen for this job each year. They would be co-editors their senior year. Moriah was proud of both girls.
After pausing to stretch her tired back, she put the groceries away, prepared a grilled-cheese sandwich and, because she felt a little lonely without Melanie's bright chatter, treated herself to three bread-and-butter pickle slices.
"Some treat," she muttered. She ate a bite of sandwich and popped a pickle into her mouth. Sitting at the breakfast bar on a tall stool, she looked out the window toward the south.
Clouds, dark and sullen, hovered on the far horizon. It was raining down that way, she supposed. Here in Great Falls it was partly cloudy, humid and growing cold. She was glad she didn't have to dash out to a class.
When she'd finished the summer term, she'd decided to take a break until after Christmas. It would be a relief not to have to worry about grades and tests and attending courses for a while.
When she finished night school and got her degree, she'd be a paralegal. Only one year to go!
With the experience she was gaining as a receptionist-typist at a local law firm, she should be able to land a good position next year. And an interesting one, she hoped. Maybe in the same firm. She'd been there almost five years—
Her thoughts were interrupted by the telephone.
Probably Melanie. Moriah answered it with a quip: "What did you forget that you can't live without?"
Silence greeted her. Moriah realized she'd surprised someone on the other end of the line…and it wasn't her daughter.
"Sorry, I was expecting someone else," she said. She slipped into the crisp but friendly manner she used at the office. "This is the Gilmore residence. How may I help you?"
Her heart stopped. It had been sixteen, almost seventeen years since she'd heard this particular masculine baritone, the unique timbre of which reminded her of a mountain lion's purr. Not that she'd personally heard one of the big cats purr, but she imagined it would sound the way this man did—smooth and rough at the same time. His was unlike any other voice. She recognized it at once.
Heat swept through her. She felt disoriented, as if in an instant she'd been catapulted back in time, to a distant past in which this same voice had whispered the loveliest of love words in her ear as they lay together, their hearts beating as one.
She ran a trembling hand through her hair and immediately recalled other hands doing that. Kane had loved her hair, had loved to smooth a strand and watch the curl bounce back when he released it. He'd liked to tickle her neck and her breasts, using a lock of her hair like an artist's brush, his touch sure and gentle, so very gentle.
"It's like holding fire," he'd murmured, nuzzling his nose along her temple, kissing and biting at her ear. He'd dropped his hand lower, touching the auburn hair at the joining of her legs. "There's fire here, too," he'd said, teasing her, loving her, making her feel beautiful and wanted, which was something more than desired, although that was there, too.
Oh, God, she'd been so young. Seventeen…
She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, seeking the calm center in the hurricane of emotion his voice induced. Like a drowning person, she pressed a hand to her throat, needing air and unable to get enough of it.
"Moriah?" Kane Hunter said again.
She had to answer, but only one thought—one illogical, stubborn thought—swirled in her head. Kane. Her first love. Her lover. Her betrayer.
"Yes?" She forced the word from her parched throat. Her voice came out husky, cautious. Perhaps this wasn't Kane. It could be a salesman. One who called her by her first name with that oddly intimate note of past knowledge in it? No, the man on the other end of the line was no stranger.
Her heart beat furiously, loud and frantic in her ears. She glanced around the small, neat kitchen as if looking for a place to escape the memories this voice conjured up.
"This is Kane. Kane Hunter," he clarified. "This is Moriah Gilmore, isn't it?"
The drowning sensation became stronger. Once she had thought she would die of ecstasy in his arms, he'd brought her such bliss. He'd liked to watch her take pleasure from his touch. And she had. So much pleasure. And later, he'd caused so much pain.
She swallowed as emotion balled in her throat, and forced herself to respond like a normal person rather than like the loving, trusting teenager she'd once been.
"Kane," she managed to say without gasping. "This is a surprise."
"I'll bet." His tone was sardonic. "I'm calling about your father," he continued, without giving her a chance to speak again. "The police have been looking for him—"
"What police?" she interrupted, unable to take all this in at once—that Kane was calling like a ghost out of the past and that he wanted to talk about her father, who had abandoned her and her mother years ago.
Copyright © 2007 Harlequin Books S.A.