âYou are many things, Melanie McFarlane, but weak is not one of them.â
And then, because he was weak, he lowered his head and touched his lips to hers.
She didnât pull away. And when common sense finally penetrated the fog clouding Russâs brain and he listed his head, her eyes were no longer wet with tears.
Just a wary confusion that he recognised all too well. Because he felt the very same thing.
He lowered his hand and took a step back. Softly cleared his throat. âIf weâre gonna go, weâd better â â
âGive me t-ten minutes.â
Russ nodded and backed towards the door. He felt as if heâd just run a marathon.
How the hell was he supposed to last for another five and a half months of this?
ALLISON LEIGH
started early by writing a Halloween play that her school class performed. Since then, though her tastes have changed, her love for reading has not. And her writing appetite simply grows more voracious by the day.
She has been a finalist for the RITA® Award and Holt Medallion contests. But the true highlights of her day as a writer are when she receives word from a reader that she laughed, cried or lost a nightâs sleep while reading one of her books.
Born in Southern California, Allison has lived in several cities in four different states. She has been, at one time or another, a cosmetologist, a computer programmer and a secretary. She has recently begun writing full-time after spending nearly a decade as an administrative assistant for a busy neighbourhood church. She currently makes her home in Arizona with her family. Allison loves to hear from her readers, who can write to her at PO Box 40772, Mesa, AZ 85274-0772, USA.
Dear Reader,
What is it about the MONTANA series that we love so much? As a reader and a writer, Iâm thoroughly enamoured of these larger-than-life Western heroes and the strong, capable women who capture their hearts. It is just pure fun to wallow once again in the pages with them through their laughter and their tears, and triumph along with them when they find their happily-ever-after.
As for the hard-headed souls of this particular tale, Russ and Melanie have differences that at first seem insurmountable. But, of course, even with these two who are so used to pushing others away, love finds its way.
But isnât that one of the best things about love?
It finds a way.
All my best,
Allison Leigh
This book is dedicated to my cohorts
in crime: Christine Rimmer, Stella Bagwell, Crystal Green, Pamela Toth, and Victoria Pade, and our extraordinary editor, Susan Litman, who keeps it all together. It has been a pleasure and an honour working with you.
Chapter One
âYou want me to what?â
Melanie McFarlaneâs fingers tightened around the glass stem of her lemon-drop martini as she stared at the stupefied expression on Russ Chiltonâs annoyingly rugged face. âI believe you heard me.â It took an enormous effort, but she kept her voice low. Mild. It helped that she had a lifetime of keeping herself well modulated and in control.
Thatâs what one did, after all, when one was a McFarlane. Heaven forbid that they actually indulge in some sort of human manner.
âI heard you,â Russ muttered. His long fingers were wrapped around the base of his beer bottle. No icy pilsner glass for him. He probably figured he was too salt-of-the-earth to bother with such niceties. âI just figured youâre off your bean or something.â
Or something, definitely. In her current vocabulary, or something was code for increasingly desperate.
She swallowed. Slowly turned the stem of her delicate martini glass and eyed the narrow twirl of lemon rind floating in the liquid. The waitress had already delivered their third round, and Melanie knew better than to finish off the drink when just two was already beyond her limit.
âIt is important for me to make a success of this endeavor.â She didnât believe it was any of his business just how important. Asking for his help in any way whatsoever was taking all of her strength as it was. Particularly when she knew he didnât approve of her presence in Thunder Canyon in the first place.
She didnât want anyone to know that it wasnât âMcFarlaneâ money that was invested here. It was only Melanieâs. And if she lost it all, she didnât know what she would do. Because returning to work for one of the McFarlane hotels wasnât an option for her.
Not anymore.
Russ snorted softly. âYou mean you donât wanna fail at turning a perfectly good working ranch into some damn fool tourist trap. As if there arenât enough of those already cropping up around Thunder Canyon,â he added derisively.
âThe Hopping H will be a guest ranch,â she corrected. âWith your assistance, the actualââ her fingertips lifted ââranch sort of activities will still continue.â She was banking everything on Thunder Canyonâs increasing popularity as a resort destination to help ensure her success. She knew plenty of people who would pay astronomical sums to get away from their high-pressure lives and at least play at getting back to what they thought of as âthe simple life.â