Stranded With A Stranger

Stranded With A Stranger
Frances Housden

Born to luxury and comfort, Chelsea Tedman never expected to be climbing Mount Everest. But her need to solve the mystery surrounding her sister's fatal fall on the mountain had Chelsea in Nepal, determined to climb the unforgiving terrain at all costs.She just needed a guide. Mysterious as he was alluring, Kurt Jellic was the only man for the job, and all she had to do was convince him. But Chelsea didn't know which was more difficult: Everest's brutal climb or her irresistible attraction to Kurt. With danger so near, Chelsea could soon be victim to the mountain…and to her own passion.

Chelsea would never forget the moment when she hung in midair on Mount Everest,

nothing between her and death as she anxiously searched for Kurt against the icy cliff.

When she’d heard him yell her name, she’d been sure he’d fallen. Immediately, she had been stung by pain and guilt. If Kurt died, it would be her fault. She was the one who had hounded him to bring her back to the place where her sister had plunged to her death.

Her heart had rolled over. A useless lump of lead in her chest that refused to beat without knowing Kurt was safe. The moment her eyes had latched on to his red anorak against the gray-blue sky above her, it went into overdrive.

From now on, no matter what Kurt said, or how much he protested that he was no good for her, she knew in her heart she could never love anyone else as much as him.

The difficult task would be convincing him.

Stranded with a Stranger

Frances Housden

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

I’d like to dedicate this book to my original editor at Silhouette, Leslie Wainger, with thanks.

And also to Sir Edmund Hillary, my inspiration for this book, who proved that although Kiwis can’t fly, they can still reach the top of the world.

FRANCES HOUSDEN

has always been a voracious reader, but she never thought of being a writer until a teacher gave her the encouragement she needed to put pen to paper. As a result, Frances was a finalist in the 1998 Clendon Award and won the award in 1999, which led to the sale of her first book for Silhouette, The Man for Maggie.

Frances’s marriage to a navy man took her from her birthplace in Scotland all the way to the ends of the earth in New Zealand. Now that he’s a landlubber, they try to do most of their traveling together. They live on a ten-acre bush block in the heart of Auckland’s Wine District. She has two large sons, two small grandsons and a tiny granddaughter who can twist her around her finger, as well as a wheaten terrier who thinks she’s boss. Thanks to one teacher’s dedication, Frances now gets to write about the kind of heroes a woman would travel to the ends of the earth for. Frances loves to hear from readers. Get in touch with Frances through her Web site at www.franceshousden.com (http://www.franceshousden.com).

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Prologue

Mount Everest

April 20

Dear Chelsea,

I can imagine your astonishment as you open this. I can almost hear you gasp, “A letter from Atlanta!”

How many years has it been? I move around so much I’ve lost count. Far, far too many, though. My fault. As eldest, I shouldn’t have let a childish rift go on for so long. I just hope I haven’t left it too late to set matters right.

What’s it all about?

Well, for a start, I’m worried.

Oh, not over making the climb of Everest I’ll be doing soon. I lost all fear of heights years ago, when I swapped my ballet slippers for climbing boots. It was only to be expected marrying an adventurous man like Bill Chaplin. And when you love someone the way I love Bill, wherever he goes, you follow.

That’s right, I used the L word. No matter what you thought of the arrangement back then, our father never forced me into this marriage. I’ve had fifteen blissful years. Not many people can claim that. You were far too young to understand back then, barely thirteen. I hope time has achieved what I couldn’t, and that you understand at last what it is to truly love another person heart and soul.

But I’m getting off track. It’s not myself I’m worried for—it’s you. Though chances are we might both be in danger, not many people can reach me up here, so I reckon I’m pretty safe. It takes a special kind of man to climb Everest, and I’m certain Arlon Rowles isn’t one of them.

Yes, I’m talking about our cousin Arlon. It seems making him CEO of the business father left us, in order for us to avoid facing each other across a boardroom table, was a huge mistake.

I received a letter yesterday from Madeline Coulter. You remember Maddie? She worked for Father. According to her, Arlon has been siphoning money out of the business for the past five years and salting it away in a Swiss bank account.

Five years. My God, he must have started soon after Father’s death. She says that she has the proof locked away in a safety deposit box. This is the number: 44578—Bank of America, Jamestown. Don’t lose it. It’s in both our names.

Along with the letter, she sent me a key. I’ve decided it will be safer on my person for now. I’m wearing it on a chain around my neck.

But this is where it gets down and dirty. I called Maddie by satellite phone and her sister answered. I couldn’t have been more shocked. Dear old Maddie was shot and killed, in an apparent mugging. It happened not long after she mailed the letter. Coincidence? I don’t think so. She was found in an alley, and the shopping she’d done on her way home from work was scattered all around her, yet they don’t live in a dangerous neighborhood. And if someone was desperate enough to kill her for money, why leave her purse and the shopping behind?