The Nanny And The Reluctant Rancher

The Nanny And The Reluctant Rancher
Barbara McCauley

THE BACHELOR AND THE NANNYFrom the first moment Kat Delaney walked through his door, single dad Logan Kincaid knew his life was about to be turned upside down. There was something decidedly unsettling about his daughter's new nanny, but he vowed to ignore her smoldering good looks - even if it took every ounce of willpower the cowboy had.Taking off to Texas to play nanny to a nine-year-old girl was the perfect escape for Kat - until she laid eyes on the motherless little girl and her sexy dad. It didn't take long for her to fall hard for the most confirmed bachelor in Texas, but did she dare risk her heart when it was impossible to tell the truth?

“I Need You To Tell Me.” (#u305f9f3d-636f-536b-9a71-fd9e7b9f8333)Letter to Reader (#u9a64657b-bcad-55ab-8160-1d21eaf9e9d6)Title Page (#ud64bb039-b1f1-579f-bf23-e486a3a5bb3a)BARBARA McCAULEY (#u919c65b8-3e78-5308-b88b-20420d46670a)Dedication (#uf1997975-725d-51dd-8392-ce7c191e899f)Chapter One (#u907044dd-0225-5a50-9050-26d9739d343f)Chapter Two (#u8aee6a19-faf8-59eb-b91f-cdde7aa1a2c6)Chapter Three (#u4376466b-db98-5e28-b4d0-6fc66c2bdfbe)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

“I Need You To Tell Me.”

Her voice was no more than a throaty whisper.

“Lord, woman,” he said roughly, “does everything have to be difficult with you?”

“Tell me, Logan.”

“What, that I want you? That I’ve thought of you every damn minute of every damn day since you got here?” His voice grew husky and deep. “Do you want me to tell you what those thoughts were, too? They might shock you, Kat. You might turn tail and run.”

His words excited her. She stared at him, thankful she’d left the light off. The darkness gave her courage, a boldness she would normally not have felt.

“I won’t run.”

Dear Reader,

A sexy fire fighter, a crazy cat and a dynamite heroine—that’s what you’ll find in Lucy and the Loner, Elizabeth Bevarly’s wonderful MAN OF THE MONTH. It’s the next in her installment of THE FAMILY McCORMICK series, and it’s also a MAN OF THE MONTH book you’ll never forget—warm, humorous and very sexy!

A story from Lass Small is always a delight, and Chancy’s Cowboy is Lass at her most marvelous. Don’t miss out as Chancy decides to take some lessons in love from a handsome hunk of a cowboy!

Eileen Wilks’s latest, The Wrong Wife, is chock-full with the sizzling tension and compelling reading that you’ve come to expect from this rising Desire star. And so many of you know and love Barbara McCauley that she needs no introduction, but this month’s The Nanny and the Reluctant Rancher is sure to both please her current fans...and win her new readers!

Suzannah Davis is another new author that we’re excited about, and Dr. Holt and the Texan may just be her best book to date! And the month is completed with a delightful romp from Susan Carroll, Parker and the Gypsy.

There’s something for everyone. So come and relish the romantic variety you’ve come to expect from Silhouette Desire!

Lucia Macro

And the Editors at Silhouette Desire

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

Barbara McCauley

The Nanny And The Reluctant Rancher

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

BARBARA McCAULEY

was born and raised in California and has spent a good portion of her life exploring the mountains, beaches and deserts so abundant there. The youngest of five children, she grew up in a small house, and her only chance for a moment alone was to sneak into the backyard with a book and quietly hide away.

With two children of her own now and a busy household, she still finds herself slipping away to enjoy a good novel. A daydreamer and incurable romantic, she says writing has fulfilled her most incredible dream of all: breathing life into the people in her mind and making them real. She has one loud and demanding Amazon parrot named Fred and a German shepherd named Max. When she can manage the time, she loves to sink her hands into fresh-turned soil and make things grow.

For Jennifer Diermendjian.

Thanks, Jen, for all your help and for being who you are.

One

There were three key ingredients to a successful escape: champagne, Oliver and a big hat.

In honor of Katrina Delaney’s final performance before her world tour in three months, the first essential element already flowed freely in the spacious New York Marriott Hotel suite. A few extra dollars slipped covertly to the caterer by the guest of honor herself ensured that certain glasses at the elegant party would not be left empty long.

Dressed in a long, black crepe gown—a Larisa Delaney original designed by her mother—Katrina stood on the edge of the buzzing crowd and struggled to tune out the chatter surrounding her. Excitement coursed through her, not because of the party, but because of what would happen when it was over. Her pulse raced and her stomach cartwheeled, but her own glass of bubbly remained untouched. Tonight she needed steady nerves and a clear head. She forced herself to concentrate on the distant sound of Brahms and the scent of roses that filled the suite.

“Katrina, darling, there you are!”

Katrina drew in a fortifying breath at the sound of the familiar voice, then watched Sydney Joyce push her way through a tight circle of people. It wasn’t that Katrina didn’t like the gossip columnist, in fact, she actually enjoyed the outrageous style of the older woman. But the platinum blond reporter was part bloodhound, and her nose was constantly to the ground, sniffing for a story to delight the fans of celebrity scandal. So far, Sydney had romantically linked the name Katrina Natalya Delaney to Brad Pitt, Richard Gere and Keanu Reeves.

Katrina had met Brad and Richard once at a charity ball, that was it. And as far as Keanu went, they’d merely been at the same party, about as close a relationship as Katrina had had with any man since her one brief, and rather disappointing affair with an English teacher her senior year in college. So much for the exciting social life of a violin virtuoso.

“Katrina, my darling,” Sydney purred as she moved in for the kill, “you look absolutely radiant tonight. I refuse to budge until you tell me who the lucky man is.”

Katrina sighed. Sydney’s words were not a threat, but a promise. If she suspected even the tiniest deception, she’d clamp down like a bulldog and never let go until she got something. Tonight was one night Katrina could not afford to humor the woman.

With the ears of an elephant, Max Straub, Katrina’s business manager, quickly moved in. Publicity was the man’s job, and every move his clients made, especially Katrina, was carefully orchestrated. Tomorrow, when he found out what she’d done, Katrina knew that Max was not going to be a happy camper.

“What lucky man?” Max looked at Katrina and lowered his dark bushy eyebrows in disapproval.

Katrina hadn’t time to respond before her mother and father suddenly joined the growing circle around her. Married in Russia thirty-six years ago, Larisa and Nicolai had immigrated to the States one year before she was born. Katrina had the same amber brown hair as her mother, and though the older Delaney woman was nearly fifty-five, heads still turned when she walked into a room. Katrina’s father, darkly handsome and terribly protective of not only his wife, but his only child, as well, scowled constantly at every one of those heads that turned toward wife or daughter.

“A man?” her father asked gruffly. “What’s his name?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.” Sydney cut Katrina off before she could speak.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Katrina’s mother smiled. “Katrina hasn’t time right now for that. Do you, dear?”

“Of course, she doesn’t,” Max answered. “Which reminds me, Katrina, you have a two o‘clock tomorrow with Warner Records, a five o’clock with a reporter from the New York Times and a six o’clock with a photographer from Classical Weekly. I’ll pick you up at noon and we’ll have lunch to go over the rest of the week’s schedule.”

Katrina simply nodded, but then, when Max started in on scheduling, there was little to say. He wasn’t listening; he was planning.

“I thought you were spending the day with me tomorrow,” Katrina’s mother said.

“She promised me an interview.” Sydney pouted.

“She’s practicing tomorrow,” her father stated with authority.