The Black Sheep Heir. Crystal Green
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Dammit, he shouldn’t have taken advantage of her like he had.
He didn’t know where he’d be next week, much less the next hour. His whole life could change at this cocktail party, and where would that leave Lacey?
Would he be part of that family?
He couldn’t say anything for a second when she entered the room. Her crushed blue gaze and the flowing buttercup sheerness of her dress with the wispy material misting over her shoulders, waist and legs took his breath away.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“You’ve always been so beautiful but, right now, it’s painful to look at you.”
Taking a step back, her hand drifted up to her hair, where a few curls fought to stay corkscrewed. Already they were wilting, softening her features more than he thought possible, making her eyes more doelike, her lips more full and vulnerable.
“You know what to say to a girl. Don’t you?”
“Not too often.” Awkwardly, he made one attempt, two, to offer her his arm. Just like a gentleman would, he hoped….
Dear Reader,
Well, the new year is upon us—and if you’ve resolved to read some wonderful books in 2004, you’ve come to the right place. We’ll begin with Expecting! by Susan Mallery, the first in our five-book MERLYN COUNTY MIDWIVES miniseries, in which residents of a small Kentucky town find love—and scandal—amidst the backdrop of a midwifery clinic. In the opening book, a woman returning to her hometown, pregnant and alone, finds herself falling for her high school crush—now all grown up and married to his career! Or so he thinks….
Annette Broadrick concludes her SECRET SISTERS trilogy with MacGowan Meets His Match. When a woman comes to Scotland looking for a job and the key to unlock the mystery surrounding her family, she finds both—with the love of a lifetime thrown in!—in the Scottish lord who hires her. In The Black Sheep Heir, Crystal Green wraps up her KANE’S CROSSING miniseries with the story of the town outcast who finds in the big, brooding stranger hiding out in her cabin the soul mate she’d been searching for.
Karen Rose Smith offers the story of an about-to-be single mom and the handsome hometown hero who makes her wonder if she doesn’t have room for just one more male in her life, in Their Baby Bond. THE RICHEST GALS IN TEXAS, a new miniseries by Arlene James, in which three blue-collar friends inherit a million dollars—each!—opens with Beautician Gets Million-Dollar Tip! A hairstylist inherits that wad just in time to bring her salon up to code, at the insistence of the infuriatingly handsome, if annoying, local fire marshal. And in Jen Safrey’s A Perfect Pair, a woman who enlists her best (male) friend to help her find her Mr. Right suddenly realizes he’s right there in front of her face—i.e., said friend! Now all she has to do is convince him of this….
So bundle up, and happy reading. And come back next month for six new wonderful stories, all from Silhouette Special Edition.
Sincerely,
Gail Chasan
Senior Editor
The Black Sheep Heir
Crystal Green
To Grandpa and Grandma Green, with my love.
CRYSTAL GREEN
lives in San Diego, California, where she writes full-time and occasionally teaches. When she isn’t penning romances, she enjoys reading, overanalyzing movies, risking her life on police ride-alongs, petting her parents’ Maltese dogs and fantasizing about being a really good cook.
Whenever possible, Crystal loves to travel. Her favorite souvenirs include journals—the pages reflecting everything from taking tea in London’s Leicester Square to backpacking up endless mountain roads leading to the castles of Sintra, Portugal.
She’d love to hear from her readers at: 8895 Towne Centre Drive, Suite 105-178, San Diego, CA 92122-5542.
And don’t forget to visit her Web site at: http://www.crystal-green.com!
THE KANE’S CROSSING GAZETTE
Mystery Man Hiding in Siggy Woods!
by Verna Loquacious, Town Observer
Greetings from your friendly neighborhood grapevine!
I’ve just received word that a stranger who suspiciously resembles Kane Spencer, our town founder, has been seen skulking about the streets. Scuttlebutt has it that our own Lacey Vedae, who has some skeletons in her own closet, is helping this mystery man by cooking him exquisite gourmet dinners and warming him with her home fires. Hmmmm. Sounds like more of a courtship than an innocent neighborly interest to this observer. What does Spacey Lacey know that we don’t? Read tomorrow’s column to find out….
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
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
Chapter One
S omeone had been sleeping in her bed.
Lacey Vedae stepped over the threshold of her deserted cabin—the one located on her property in the thick of the snow-frosted woods—and shut the door. The sudden lack of chilled air caused her to shiver, more from a sense of foreboding than anything else.
A fire danced and snapped in the grate, sending waves of shifting light over the simple oak furnishings: two bony chairs, a square table, the rumpled bed…
What in the world was going on?
She removed her fuzzy pink earmuffs, hardly believing someone had broken into this dilapidated structure in the middle of nowhere.
None of her possessions had been filched or vandalized, not that there had been much to tamper with in the first place.
Shoot. If those darn teenagers from town had come back to use her property as a love shack again she’d—
Lacey grabbed one of those iron thing-a-ma-jigs from the fireplace, just to bolster her confidence.
The door burst open behind her, swirling a blast of whistling, flake-laced wind into the room. A voice, the tone chipped with a low, flat-plains drawl, iced her more than the weather ever could.
“Who the hell are you?” it asked.
A mix of shock and anger spiraled through Lacey, and she brandished her fireplace tool while turning to meet the intruder. “I’m the woman who’s going to call the sheriff if you don’t keep your distance.”
The figure slammed the door shut, the altered light changing his mysterious silhouette into that of an actual human being. Half abominable snowman with drifts of light snow powdering his heavy jacket, pants and boots. Half cowboy dream with the smooth motion of a wide-brimmed hat being swept off his head in apparent respect. The gesture revealed shoulder-length blond hair and a grim, if not downright sheepish, almost-smile.
“Damn,” he said, beating the felt head wear against a thigh. Melting bits of ice flew