Winning The Rancher's Heart. Pamela Britton. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Pamela Britton
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474060219
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      A NEW BEGINNING

      Naomi Jones is ready to shake things up. The widowed single mom and her kids need a big change, so she drives across the country to start her new life. But starting over doesn’t mean getting involved with her handsome boss, Jaxton Stone. Though Naomi enjoys teasing a smile from the gruff rancher’s lips, she’s not sure her broken heart can ever love again.

      As an ex-soldier, Jax lives by precise, regimented order...until Naomi arrives at the Dark Horse Ranch and complicates everything. Along with the chaos, the feisty redhead and her children bring fun back to Jax’s life. She may be his total opposite, but Jax can’t stay away from the woman who makes his ranch feel like home.

      “You’re a good man, Jaxton Stone.” Naomi sniffled.

      No, he wasn’t. He was having all kinds of inappropriate thoughts about her. Wondered what she would do if he bent and brushed her lips with his own. But he couldn’t. Damn it all, he just couldn’t.

      “Sometimes,” he said, “doing what’s right for everyone takes a huge leap of faith, but I promise you, it will all work out all right in the end.”

      She turned to face him and he warned himself not to move. Not to stare at her lips. Not to lean in close to her. It was the hardest thing in the world to let her go.

      “You’re a good mum,” he heard himself say, forcing himself to relax. “Have faith. Trust your heart. It’ll never lead you astray.”

      She peered up at him, blue eyes wide, her hair spilling around her shoulders, and he felt himself falling... falling...

      “Good night.”

      He ran.

      Winning the Rancher’s Heart

      Pamela Britton

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       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      With more than a million books in print, PAMELA BRITTON likes to call herself the best-known author nobody’s ever heard of. Of course, that changed thanks to a certain licensing agreement with that little racing organization known as NASCAR.

      But before the glitz and glamour of NASCAR, Pamela wrote books that were frequently voted the best of the best by the Detroit Free Press, Barnes & Noble (two years in a row) and RT Book Reviews. She’s won numerous awards, including a National Readers’ Choice Award and a nomination for the Romance Writers of America Golden Heart® Award.

      When not writing books, Pamela is a reporter for a local newspaper. She’s also a columnist for the American Quarter Horse Journal.

      Dedicated to my darling Lysy Loo,

      the daughter of my heart.

      We love you, Alysa Panks.

      Contents

       Cover

       Back Cover Text

       Introduction

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

       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

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Epilogue

       Extract

       Copyright

       Chapter One

      “Is this it?” T.J. asked, his left elbow brushing her own as her son wiggled on the old Ford’s front bench seat.

      Naomi Jones stared at the sign hanging above the dirt road, clenching her palms against the sweat that formed.

      Dark Horse Ranch.

      “Yes.” She sighed. “This is it.”

      “It doesn’t look like much of a ranch,” said her other child from her shotgun position. Samantha sounded about as enthusiastic as a dental patient about to undergo a root canal, but these days her teenage daughter didn’t sound enthusiastic about anything.

      She had a point, though, Naomi admitted, but she knew from experience you couldn’t see much of the place from the road. Just a bunch of valley oaks dotting the acreage and the needle-straight line of a road, one that headed toward some low-lying foothills not too far in the distance. It was dusk and the sun had just started to set behind the hills. The dew point had risen and it released the scent of herbs in the air.

      New life, new beginnings,