Annette Broadrick – Megan's Marriage (страница 1)
Table of Contents
“Many Me.”
Megan realized that her jaw must have dropped, because she suddenly became aware of the fact that her mouth was dry. Her thoughts raced around in her head like a rioting crowd of protesters.
Travis Kane was suggesting she marry him? Travis Kane?
“Marry you?” she finally repeated weakly.
“I know you think I’m crazy,” he replied hurriedly, “but just hear me out. We’ll treat it like a business arrangement. We’ll set a time limit—say for one year. At the end of that time we’ll review the situation, decide if we want to continue the partnership. If we don’t, well—who knows what will have happened by then.”
He flashed that killer smile of his and she could feel herself succumbing to his reasonable tone…
Dear Reader,
We all know that Valentine’s Day is the most romantic holiday of the year. It’s the day you show that special someone in your life—husband, fiancé…even your mom!—just how much you care by giving them special gifts of love.
And our special Valentine’s gift to you is a book from a writer many of you have said is one of your favorites, Annette Broadrick.
February also marks the continuation of SONS AND LOVERS, a bold miniseries about three men who discover that love and family are the most important things in life. In
This month is completed with four more scintillating love stories:
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Megan’s Marriage
Annette Broadrick
believes in romance and the magic of life. Since 1984, when her first book was published, Annette has shared her view of life and love with readers all over the world. In addition to being nominated by
“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”
The sudden sound of a voice when she thought she was alone startled Megan O’Brien, causing her to sway. She grabbed the wooden frame of the windmill she was repairing to regain her balance before she looked down the fifty feet or so to the ground.
A late model pickup truck sat several hundred feet away. The relentless wind bringing spring to the central hills of Texas must have muffled the sound of the engine. Otherwise, Megan would have had some warning that she was no longer alone on that part of the family ranch.
However, no warning could have effectively prepared her for the sudden sight of the man standing directly below her, his Stetson shoved to the back of his head, his hands braced against his slim hips. Travis Kane was the last person she wanted to find glaring up at her while she clung precariously to the outdated relic that provided water—
She stared at him with a sense of dread and frustrated dismay, wondering what Travis Kane was doing on the ranch. What could he possibly want with her?
“You got something against living to see your next birthday, woman?”
Anger at his high-handed, arrogant and demanding attitude shot through her. Who did he think he was, anyway, criticizing her, yelling at her? She rested her forehead against a crossbar, fighting to control the strong surge of emotion.
What more could happen for her to have to deal with? She sighed in disgust. For the past several weeks she’d been battling first one calamity, then another. She felt like a punchdrunk fighter, reeling from one disaster to another, unable to successfully cope with any of them.
The frozen gears of the windmill had been one more thing that had to be faced. When she’d discovered there was no water in the holding tank, she’d wondered just how many more things could happen. Well, now she knew. Travis Kane could show up.
Megan couldn’t think of anyone she’d less rather see than the neighbor who’d spent most of their lives delighting in making
She glanced back at the rusted gears. The piece was shot—past being repaired. Somehow, she’d have to scrape up the money to buy a replacement part. The cattle had to have water out there, no question about it.
With a shrug at the silent question of where she might find some spare change for the part, she gave up her task for the moment. Concentrating on her footing, Megan began the long climb down the side of the wooden structure to the man whom she’d thought a scourge during her childhood.
“Couldn’t you find an easier way to kill yourself than breaking your blasted neck?” he growled near her ear once she was within range. He wrapped his hands around her waist and swung her to the ground.
As soon as her booted feet touched the ground, she pulled away and turned to face him. From this position, she had to look up at the tall, dark-haired male who had spent their childhood causing her nothing but grief and frustration. She’d known him all her life—twenty-four years. Their families operated neighboring ranches.