Intimate Surrender. RaeAnne Thayne
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Why was he so attracted to her when she wasn’t his usual type?
She wasn’t wearing any makeup and her hair was tousled. She had circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and was dressed in a baggy sweater and old jeans.
But still he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman. All he could think about was the tight, lithe body underneath her clothes and the way she had responded with such fire and heat in his arms three months ago.
Whenever he tried to concentrate at work, all he could think about was how different things could have been between him and Katie…if he’d known who she really was on that incredible night they’d shared.
Peter could think of at least a dozen ways to make love to her in every corner of this sprawling ranch house. The possibilities were limited only by his imagination and his stamina, and when it came to Katie Crosby, he had a feeling he would have more than enough of both to go around.
Maybe being snowbound together would work out in his favor, after all….
RAEANNE THAYNE
finds inspiration in the beautiful northern Utah mountains, where she lives with her husband and three children. Her books have won numerous honors, including three RITA® Award nominations from Romance Writers of America and a Career Achievement Award from RT Book Reviews magazine. RaeAnne loves to hear from readers, and can be reached through her Web site at www.raeannethayne.com.
Intimate Surrender
RaeAnne Thayne
Be a part of
Because birthright has its privileges and family ties run deep.
Two rivals share a passionate night together. Would their love end a thirty-year-old family feud?
Katie Crosby: After a glorious makeover, she was the belle of the ball. She even shared a kiss with her enemy Peter Logan, which resulted in a steamy night of lovemaking. Now in hiding from the tabloids, Katie realized she had fallen in love.
Peter Logan: He was Mr. All-Work-And-No-Play until his night with Katie. But she’d disappeared and he had to find her. With luck and a well-timed blizzard, he was in Katie’s arms again…and ready to make her a lifetime proposition!
The Janitor: Charlie Prescott had demons he kept under wraps. And no one in the clinic had any idea just how invested he was in the black-market baby ring. Would the truth come out?
To Linda Kruger, for unwavering support and encouragement.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
One
“We shouldn’t go. It’s not right to leave you here alone. Not with a storm coming on.”
Margie Taylor’s sturdy features creased with worry, and her weathered, capable hand fretted with the handle of her suitcase. With his typical stoicism, her husband, Clint, took it from her and stowed it behind the seat in their king-cab Ford pickup.
Katie Crosby managed a patient smile, just as if she and Margie hadn’t just spent the last three hours circling this same argument more times than a green-broke horse at the end of a lead line. “Don’t be silly,” she said. “I’ll be just fine. I can take care of myself for a few days and you said you’d made arrangements for Darwin Simmons to come over from the Bar S to feed and water the stock. I don’t foresee any problems.”
“Still, I don’t feel good about leaving you. You know we always try to be here when one of the family comes to Sweetwater.”
“I know how seriously you and Clint take your responsibilities as caretakers of the ranch. You do a wonderful job here but you are certainly entitled to a private life, too.”
Margie looked unconvinced and Katie squeezed her hand. “Your daughter needs you. It’s her first baby and she’s probably scared to death and needs her mother.”
The bitter irony of her words didn’t escape her, but Katie ignored the sudden pang in her chest. “You have to go to Idaho Falls,” she went on. “I would feel just horrible if you missed seeing your new grandchild enter the world because of me.”
“Weatherman says that storm is supposed to be a real doozy,” Clint spoke up.
“Then you’d better hurry and get on your way so you aren’t caught in it. I’ll be fine, I promise.”
“But what if you’re stranded out here by yourself?” Margie asked, her forehead furrowed with worry.
“I won’t mind, I promise. I came out from Portland looking for a little peace and quiet. I have plenty of books to read and the kitchen is fully stocked. I don’t need anything else. As long as Darwin can take care of the stock, I’ll be cozy and warm and snug as can be in the ranch house.”
“I just don’t feel right about this.”
“Don’t give me another thought. Just focus on Carly and that new grandbaby of yours.”
Between her and Clint, they finally managed to herd Margie into the passenger seat of the truck, though she still looked worried.
Before they drove away, Clint rolled down the window. “If the power goes out, you’ll have to start up the generator,” he said gruffly. “Instructions are on the wall next to it.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said for what seemed like the hundredth time. Through the open window she kissed him on the cheek, enjoying his blush. “Give the little darling a kiss for me, all right? Be safe.”
He finally put the truck in gear and the four-wheel drive tires spit gravel as he headed down the long drive. Katie stood and watched them go while an unusually harsh wind for early March dug icy knuckles into her ribs inside her open canvas ranch coat. Despite her fleece hat, her head was freezing.
She should be used to this half-naked feeling after nearly three months without the heavy mane of hair she had always worn, but she still felt exposed with her new short, wispy hairstyle.
A few fluttery snowflakes settled on her skin and the canvas of her coat with deceptive gentleness. They might look lovely now, tiny swirling specks against the pale lavender twilight, but she knew a Wyoming winter storm could turn deadly with warp speed, even in March.
She had a feeling the weatherman was right about the storm. The air had a heavy, expectant quality to it, and thick dark clouds already concealed the tops of the mountains.
Katie filled her lungs with cold air that smelled of snow and lifted her face to the gossamer flakes.
She had always found peace out here and usually loved the view from the sprawling log-and-stone ranch house with its wide front porch and four gables along the steeply pitched roof. Even in winter, she could gaze for hours at the harsh and wild