Sail Away
Lisa Jackson

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Sail Away
Lisa Jackson

SHE WAS TAKING CHARGE OF HER DESTINYThe pampered daughter of a successful hotelier, Marnie Montgomery had everything she ever wanted–except independence. Now that would change. No man would ever again tell her what to do–certainly not infuriating, domineering, undeniably attractive Adam Drake.Adam was determined to clear his name of the false charges that had ruined his career at Montgomery Inns. If that meant deceiving the Montgomery daughter, and even stowing away on her boat, so be it. If she had secrets, he would discover every single one….

Selected praise for

LISA JACKSON

“Lisa Jackson is a real talent.

She writes the kind of books I like to read.”

—New York Times bestselling author Kat Martin

“Lisa Jackson is incomparable.”

—New York Times bestselling author Samantha James

“Lisa Jackson is an enthralling storyteller.”

—Award-winning author Alexis Harrington

“Cold Blooded has compelling, intelligent and believable characters, and a remarkable storyline.”

—ReaderToReader.com

“This book has the perfect mix of secrets, lust and murder.”

—Revish.com on Absolute Fear

Sail Away

Lisa Jackson

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

LISA JACKSON

lives with her family in the Pacific Northwest. She has been writing for more than twenty years. Her books have appeared on the New York Times, Publishers Weekly and USA TODAY bestseller lists. Her free time is spent with friends and family. Readers can find out more about her latest books on her Web site, www.lisajackson.com.

Contents

Prologue

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

Prologue

Marnie Montgomery tossed her briefcase onto the antique couch near the windows of her office. She marched straight to her desk, removed an earring and grabbed the phone. As she punched out her father’s extension, she balanced a hip against the polished rosewood and waited, her fingers drumming impatiently, a headache threatening behind her eyes.

“Victor Montgomery’s office,” a sweet voice sang over the wires. Kate Delany. Efficient Kate. Victor’s mistress and administrative assistant. She’d been with him for years, and hoped to become the next Mrs. Victor Montgomery.

“Is he in?” Marnie asked.

“Not yet. But I expect him any time.” Poor Kate. So helplessly in love with Marnie’s father. Loving Victor was easy, as Marnie could well attest. But sometimes that love became overpowering, and Marnie felt as if she’d lost a part of herself, hadn’t been allowed to grow into the woman she wanted to be.

She heard Kate flip through the pages of what she assumed was Victor’s appointment book. “Your dad called from the course about half an hour ago,” Kate said thoughtfully. “He should be on his way back here, and it looks as if his schedule isn’t too full this afternoon.”

Marnie’s lungs constricted. She cleared her throat. “Tell him I need to see him the minute he gets in.”

“It’s important?”

“Very,” Marnie replied, replacing the receiver and suddenly feeling cold inside. Slipping her earring back in place, she noticed the expensive furnishings in her office, the thick mauve carpet, the panoramic view of Seattle’s skyline from her corner office. Everything a girl could want.

Except Marnie didn’t want any of it. She didn’t want the forced smiles of the staff, she didn’t want the knowing glances in the coffee room, and she especially didn’t want the engraved brass nameplate that read: MARNIE MONTGOMERY, PUBLIC RELATIONS. It could just as well have read: VICTOR’S DAUGHTER. The people who worked “for her” in her department could function well without her. Victor had seen to that.

She tossed her pen into her empty In basket. Was it ever full? Were there ever papers and messages overflowing onto the desk? Did she ever have to put in extra hours? Did she even have to come back from lunch? No, no, no and no!

A nest of butterflies erupted into flight in her stomach at the thought of what she had to do. Rounding the desk she found a piece of letterhead, and rather than have her secretary type her letter of resignation she started writing it out in long hand.

How did one quit being a daughter? she wondered, her brow puckering as she chewed on the end of her pen.

How did she tell a loving father, who had tried all his life to do everything for her, that she felt suffocated?
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