That Mccloud Woman

That Mccloud Woman
Peggy Moreland

THE BACHELOR'S CREED Never settle down! That didn't mean Jack Cordell couldn't work side by side with Alayna McCloud, even if she was the sexiest lady west of the Mississippi. And his instincts to slip his boots under her bed, a ring on her finger and passion into her soul - well, the Texas sun was playing tricks on his tattered heart.Because a love-wary loner didn't have a blame thing to offer a lady like Alayna. Still, Jack detected a sadness beneath her perfection. And it was time the ultimate do-gooder let him do some good… and turn that McCloud woman into that McCloud bride!TEXAS BRIDES: Come on down to the McCloud family ranch - 'cause there's no place like Texas for a wedding!

What had come over him? (#uefaf5042-ff76-594e-91cb-4959bf243cca)Letter to Reader (#ub75276c5-faf2-5f32-91e6-3ce8f30fc463)Title Page (#u07e7fe1c-3b3c-536b-84e6-e65ef5168c1d)About the Author (#u5ef41cca-aa5d-5551-a37f-87154f161ace)Dedication (#uc2e65284-30bc-5daa-99bc-676b703cfc95)Chapter One (#u6ef74dd7-54a0-5934-8a86-7a3b8e0e8a06)Chapter Two (#ue978382c-4a27-52af-ad6f-8bf9c144f4b5)Chapter Three (#ua5545971-fcd1-55d8-bd76-897bb1a54777)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)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

What had come over him?

Jack swallowed hard as Alayna’s soft protest echoed around him. He opened his hand and looked at his palm, still feeling the warmth, the softness of her breast.

He closed his hand into a fist, his lips thinning. He didn’t want to get involved with her. Even less, to hurt her. She was an angel. A woman who deserved a man who was willing to give her the children that she wanted so desperately.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I—” But he couldn’t think of an explanation for his actions—nothing but the truth, which was that he wanted her. Needed her. He yearned for her softness, her compassion.

But what did he have to give her in return?

Jack pushed himself to his feet. He strode down the pier, the weathered planks pitching beneath his feet as he all but ran from her. From temptation.

From himself.

From memories that haunted him.

Dear Reader,

The joys of summer are upon us—along with some July fireworks from Silhouette Desire!

The always wonderful Jennifer Greene presents our July MAN OF THE MONTH in Prince Charming’s Child. A contemporary romance version of Sleeping Beauty, this title also launches the author’s new miniseries, HAPPILY EVER AFTER, inspired by those magical fairly tales we loved in childhood. And ever-talented Anne Mane Winston is back with a highly emotional reunion romance in Lovers’ Reunion. The popular miniseries TEXAS BRIDES by Peggy Moreland continues with the provocative story of That McCloud Woman. Sheiks abound in Judith McWilliams’s The Sheik’s Secret, while a plain Jane is wooed by a millionaire in Jan Hudson’s Plain Jane’s Texan. And Barbara McCauley’s new dramatic miniseries, SECRETS!, debuts this month with Blackhawk’s Sweet Revenge.

We’ve got more excitement for you next month—watch for the premiere of the compelling new Desire miniseries THE TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB. Some of the sexiest, most powerful men in the Lone Star State are members of this prestigious club, and they all find love when they least expect it! You’ll learn more about THE TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB in our August Dear Reader letter, along with an update on Silhouette’s new continuity, THE FORTUNES OF TEXAS, debuting next month.

And this month, join in the celebrations by treating yourself to all six passionate Silhouette Desire titles.

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, 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

That McCloud Woman

Peggy Moreland

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

PEGGY MORELAND published her first romance with Silhouette in 1989. She’s a natural storyteller, with a sense of humor that will tickle your fancy, and Peggy’s goal is to write a story that readers will remember long after the last page is turned. Winner of the 1992 National Readers’ Choice Award, the 1997 Golden Quill Award, and a 1994 RITA finalist, Peggy frequently appears on bestseller lists around the country. A native Texan, she and her family live in Round Rock, Texas.

To my college roomies, Melissa Gerland Dillard, Brenda Bryant Medlin and Cyndi Lumpkin Clanton. In spite of the miles and the years, you are all still cherished friends.

One

With nowhere to go, and in no hurry to get there, Jack Cordell dumped a second spoonful of sugar into his coffee and slowly stirred, killing time.

The town he’d stopped in for lunch was a small one, the diner he’d chosen a mom and pop type place that boasted home-style cooking and a blue plate special for $4.95. Though the price of the food mattered little to Jack, the appeal of a home-cooked meal did. After six months on the road, eating cardboard-flavored food, his stomach had been ready for something with a little sustenance to it.

Though crowded and noisy when he’d first arrived, the diner was nearly empty now, the only sound the rattle of pans from the kitchen and the occasional squeak of the waitress’s crepe-soled shoes on the worn linoleum as she went about her duties, clearing off tables after the noon rush. The woman looked to be on the downhill side of fifty, full breasted, thick waisted and with a tongue as sharp as the pencil tucked behind her ear. She wore her hair piled high on top of her head, a metallic gold clamp of some sort holding her bottle-red hair in place. She worked with an efficiency of movement that said she was an old hand at slinging hash.

The dusty plate-glass window on Jack’s right offered him a bird’s-eye view of the diner’s empty parking lot, the bank across the street and the post office beside it. With a slight turn of his head, he had a clear shot of the entire downtown area. All two blocks of it. Though he’d spent the last five years in Houston and was accustomed to its towering skyline and traffic-clogged expressways, Jack had grown up in a town about the size of Driftwood, and found the small town appealing, almost peaceful.

And it had been a long time since Jack had known any peace.

As he stared at the big, lazy-branched oak that shaded the bank’s entrance, a weariness settled on his shoulders. He was tired of running. Tired of living out of his truck, eating his meals out of grease-stained paper sacks. Tired of the monotony of chasing a white line, his only companion a fifth of whiskey he kept tucked underneath the front seat, while he tried to outrun his guilt, his grief—and when he couldn’t outrun it, drown it. Neither seemed to work. The guilt still weighed heavily on him, the grief a cancer eating away at what remained of his heart.

He knew he had a home to go to, a business to tend. But the idea of returning to either held no appeal. Not anymore.

As he stared at the big oak, his thoughts bluer than blue, his heart a lead weight in his chest, a woman stepped from the bank’s double doors and started across the street. She was a petite little thing, fragile looking. The thick mane of white-blond hair that hung just past her shoulders only added to that fragility. She wore a long, sleeveless dress of the palest blue that hit her about midcalf. One of those shapeless dresses that didn’t offer a clue to the figure beneath. Thin-strapped sandals, though, exposed small, slender feet, and a hint that the rest of her might be similarly proportioned.

With her chin dipped down, he didn’t have a clear view of her face, but he couldn’t help but notice the way she walked—kind of slowlike, her posture that of a person lost in deep contemplation. As he watched, a sigh seemed to move through her and she lifted her head, squaring her shoulders. At the same time, her steps quickened, bringing her closer to the diner and the window he watched her through.

He focused on her face and was struck by the oddest sensation. It was like looking into the face of an angel. A sexy-looking angel, without question, but an angel, nonetheless. Creamy, smooth complexion. Delicate features almost too perfect to be real. Bright, clear blue eyes. Full, moist lips. An innate sexuality in her movements stirred parts of his body that he was sure had died on the vine months ago.

He lost sight of her as she skipped up the steps to the diner, and he quickly shifted his gaze to the door, waiting for her to step inside. She pushed her way through the entrance, bringing a blast of hot, humid air with her. She paused, glancing around, and met his gaze for the briefest of seconds. When she did, the sweetest, yet most sensual smile touched her lips before she turned away and headed for the counter.

She brushed damp hair from her forehead. “Maudie,” he heard her say, “I sure hope you saved me a tall glass of that lime iced tea you’re so famous for.”

The waitress caught up her apron to wipe her hands, her carmine-painted lips splitting in a welcoming smile. “Thirsty, are you?”

“Parched.” The sexy angel—as Jack had already started to think of her—sank down onto a stool at the counter, her dress settling like a billowy cloud around her legs. She propped an elbow on the counter and fanned her face with a delicately boned hand. “I swear, it’s hot enough out there to fry eggs on the sidewalk.”

Maudie shoveled a scoop of ice into a glass. “Did you hear that, Ed?” she yelled through the pass-through window that opened to the kitchen. She hefted an aluminum pitcher and poured tea into the glass without spilling a drop. “Alayna says we could fry eggs on the sidewalk. Why don’t you turn off the grill and move your cookin’ outside? It’d sure cool things off in here. Might even save us some money on gas.”

Jack heard a gruff, male voice, but couldn’t make out the man’s reply. Alayna—thanks to Maudie, he now had a name to associate with the sexy angel—touched her fingertips to her chest and batted her eyes at the man on the other side of the window. Her voice all but dripped southern honey as she replied, “My-y, oh my-y, Ed, but you do-o-o know how to turn a woman’s head with your sweet talk.”

Maudie tossed back her head and hooted at the ceiling. “Alayna, I’ll swear, for a minute there, you sounded just like your mother.” She shook her head, still chuckling, as she pulled up a stool on the opposite side of the counter. “How’s the old bat doin’, anyway?”

Alayna didn’t even flinch at the verbal slur to her mother. “Fine. Giving Daddy heck, as usual.”

“Serves him right for goin’ off and marryin’ a Southern Belle and abandoning his home state of Texas.” Maudie shook her head regretfully as she picked up a glass to polish, obviously preparing to settle in for a long gossip. “So how’s the remodelin’ comin’ along?”

Her smile fading a bit, Alayna took a sip of tea, then set the glass down and plucked a napkin from the chrome dispenser on the counter. “Not very well, I’m afraid.” She dabbed at the corners of her mouth—a definite stall tactic in Jack’s estimation—then frowned, wadding the napkin in her fist. “Frank left.”

Maudie’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “How much did he take you for?”