Ms Demeanor
A cold-case Christmas in Mystery, Montana Yearning to be known as something other than Mystery's ultimate bad boy, rancher Rainier Fitzgerald isn't pleased when he stumbles upon the remains of a dead body. Especially when Officer Laura Blade catches him with a gun in his hand.Spending Christmas chasing down a cold case with a man she's not supposed to fraternize with isn't granting any of Laura's holiday wishes, either. But could her favorite time of the year be working its magic on Laura's feelings? Or is Rainier truly transforming from a charismatic rogue to a hero worthy of her heart?
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A cold-case Christmas in Mystery, Montana
Yearning to be known as something other than Mysteryâs ultimate bad boy, rancher Rainier Fitzgerald isnât pleased when he stumbles upon the remains of a dead body. Especially when Officer Laura Blade catches him with a gun in his hand.
Spending Christmas chasing down a cold case with a man sheâs not supposed to fraternize with isnât granting any of Lauraâs holiday wishes, either. But could her favorite time of the year be working its magic on Lauraâs feelings? Or is Rainier truly transforming from a charismatic rogue to a hero worthy of her heart?
Mystery Christmas
âIf you knew me a little better, youâd know that Iâm hardly ever disappointed.â
âWhat if I disappoint you?â he asked.
He was going to kiss her. She could feel it in his touch and hear it in the lilt of his voice, and though she wanted it, there was a nagging voice in the back of her head that kept telling her how stupid it would be to let him. If he kissed her, the rules of their game would change. Their roles would be compromised. Her job would be compromised. Heck, even his future could be jeopardized.
âYou wonât,â she said, as his lips grew nearer, so close that she shut her eyes and readied herself to feel his lips press against hers. âAnd weâ¦canât,â she said, nearly breathless.
But he didnât stop. And she didnât pull away.
This series wouldnât have been possible without a great team of people, including my agents and editors at Harlequinâthank you for all your hard work.
Also, thank you to Suzanne Miller and the crew at Dunrovin Ranch in Lolo, Montana. Suzanne is the inspiration behind one of my favorite characters in this series, the fantastic Eloise Fitzgerald. Just like Eloise, she always greets you with a warm smile and an open heart.
Iâm proud to say that all proceeds from the events in honor of this series shall go to the Missoula, Montana, Girls Using Their Strengths (GUTS!) program. This program empowers and promotes leadership in girls aged nine to eighteen. It is my belief that we must support and help empower young women so someday they can run the world.
DANICA WINTERS is a multiple award-winning, bestselling author who writes books that grip readers with their ability to drive emotion through suspense and occasionally a touch of magic. When sheâs not working, she can be found in the wilds of Montana, testing her patience while she tries to hone her skills at various craftsâquilting, pottery and painting are not her areas of expertise. She believes the cup is neither half-full nor half-empty, but it better be filled with wine. Visit her website at www.danicawinters.net.
To Mac.
No matter what comes our way, we will always move our story forward.
Contents
There was nothing quite like the rush heâd felt when he had tried to kill his father. It had been like a charge running through Rainier Fitzgerald, shooting up from his toes straight through his body and escaping in one ill-advised and perfectly placed punch. One hit, one single punch had cost him more than three years of his life, thousands of dollars and nearly all his relationships.
There were times he wished he had really killed his biological father. Just a little bit harder or just a few more punches and he couldâve watched the life slip from the manâs body. If he had died, maybe then Rainier couldâve felt guilty about what he had done to him; as it was, the only regret he held was that he hadnât punched him sooner.
The prisonâs chain-link gate vibrated; metal ground against metal and made an ear-piercing squeal as the gate opened. Rainier had been dreaming about this day, the day of his release, since the moment heâd entered this hellhole.
He took in a deep breath. The cold air carried the heavy and earthy scent of concrete, dirt and broken dreams, but he didnât careâfor the first time in years, he was free.
The only hint it was nearly Christmas was the thick layer of snow on the ground and the black sedan in the parking lot complete with a set of felt reindeer antlers poking out of its passengerâs-and driverâs-side windows.
They looked ridiculous, but a hoarse chuckle escaped him, the sound so foreign that it caught him off guard.
In the corner of its windshield, the car had a parking decal for the Montana State Prison. Whoever it belonged to must work at this place, or was here enough that it was deemed necessary for them to have quick accessâwhich made the Christmas fare seem even more asinine and somewhat obscene. It was as if the owner celebrated the fact that they could enjoy their freedom, even if it meant buying cheesy holiday decorations and displaying them from their cars for the inmates to seeâand hate them for.
