Meagan McKinney - Plain Jane and The Hotshot

He walked to the far end, near the water. Then he abruptly turned and stared at her.

“Humans or black bears?” he called out in an amiable tone.

Jo drew up short at the sound of the voice at the dark end of the dock.

For a brief moment warm relief flooded her as she realized that Nick was all right.

But then she realized she’d just been set up. She’d bet all the gold in Fort Knox that Hazel was playing matchmaker, and if Nick Kramer was playing along, then he’d be sorry.

So very sorry, she thought as she stared at him in the moonlight.

“Skinny-dipping, my brave firefighter?” she asked.

His silhouette was clear, backlit by silver moonwash, slim-hipped and wide-shouldered. When he came toward her, moonlight illuminated his handsome profile, emphasizing the strong jaw, patrician nose and his hard, much-too-experienced lips.

Desire licked at her in a dizzying rush.

Dear Reader,

Revel in the month with a special day devoted to L-O-V-E by enjoying six passionate, powerful and provocative romances from Silhouette Desire.

Learn the secret of the Barone family’s Valentine’s Day curse, in Sleeping Beauty’s Billionaire (#1489) by Caroline Cross, the second of twelve titles in the continuity series DYNASTIES: THE BARONES—the saga of an elite clan, caught in a web of danger, deceit…and desire.

In Kiss Me, Cowboy! (#1490) by Maureen Child, a delicious baker feeds the desire of a marriage-wary rancher. And passion flares when a detective and a socialite undertake a cross–country quest, in That Blackhawk Bride (#1491), the most recent installment of Barbara McCauley’s popular SECRETS! miniseries.

A no-nonsense vet captures the attention of a royal bent on seduction, in Charming the Prince (#1492), the newest “fiery tale” by Laura Wright. In Meagan McKinney’s latest MATCHED IN MONTANA title, Plain Jane & the Hotshot (#1493), a shy music teacher and a daredevil fireman make perfect harmony. And a California businessman finds himself longing for his girl Friday every day of the week, in At the Tycoon’s Command (#1494) by Shawna Delacorte.

Celebrate Valentine’s Day by reading all six of the steamy new love stories from Silhouette Desire this month.

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

is the author of over a dozen novels of hardcover and paperback historical and contemporary women’s fiction. In addition to romance, she likes to inject mystery and thriller elements into her work. Currently she lives in the Garden District of New Orleans with her two young sons, two very self-entitled cats and a crazy red mutt. Her favorite hobbies are traveling to the Arctic and, of course, reading!

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

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

“You she-cubs need to think of something other than men and makeup.” Hazel McCallum, the matriarch of Mystery, Montana, furrowed her brow in concentration as she continued speaking to the young woman sitting next to her in the car.

She slowed down for the empty logging truck that growled up the mountain slope ahead of them, then rambled on, “I know one goes with the other, but this trip’s just for the gals. No men allowed.”

“I wear hardly any makeup, Hazel, you know that. And as for men, I’m not exactly attracting them like flies to honey—with my bad luck, I’m not going to have to be reminded to put all my boyfriends in the toy box for a weekend.” Joanna Lofton almost laughed. Hazel darn well knew she was the little gray mouse of Mystery, and that the matriarch was coyly trying to forget that fact made Jo’s alarms go off.

“But all that girlie froufrou won’t matter up on Bridger’s Summit,” Hazel rattled on, as if purposely not hearing Joanna. “There might be a few males up there, I suppose, but only if you count the bears, too.”

“Bears?” Jo’s eyes widened. The plain-Jane high-school music teacher was Montana-born and-bred, but even she was used to civilization. Her neighborhood in Mystery Valley was a world of cedar town houses and tiny tourist shops, with picturesque cattle ranches seen only from the road, Hazel’s vast Lazy M spread included. Bears, rattlesnakes and other hazards of the wild were seldom encountered in the valley anymore.

The Bitterroot National Forest, in sharp contrast, was practically the old frontier untamed, and Jo was having second thoughts about letting her friend Hazel talk her into the trip.

Jo had agreed without really thinking about it. Hazel said the girls’ weekend would do her good, perhaps get her out of the funk she was in. But there was never any talk of being mauled by wild animals.

“Did I hear the word bears?” Bonnie Lassiter interjected nervously from the back seat. “Grizzly bears?”

Hazel and Stella Mumford, the other woman who, like Hazel, was well into her seventies, laughed as if on cue.

“You believe these two youngsters, Hazel?” Stella teased. “You’d think both of ’em are from Manhattan. Bonnie, even a townie like me knows you’ll find few grizzlies anymore in the lower forty-eight.”

Jo glanced behind her to exchange a sympathetic glance with Bonnie. They were both the same age, twenty-five, and both from Mystery. Jo knew Bonnie was a divorced hairstylist who worked in Mystery Valley’s most popular salon. They were also both starting to realize they had committed themselves to ten rugged days in the unfamiliar wilderness.

Hazel saw their covert glances, and a sly smile pulled at her lips.

The cattle baroness might have looked petite behind the wheel of her cinammon-and-black Fleetwood, her suede driving gloves only enhancing the “little old lady” impression. But there was nothing fuddy-duddy about the seventy-five-year-old’s driving skills, nor her fierce passion for Mystery, which was why she had embarked upon her latest endeavor of playing matchmaker in order to keep her beloved town young and alive.

“Move it or lose it, bull-whacker,” she muttered, the Cadillac swooping out smoothly to pass the truck.

Jo tried to feel excited about the adventure in store for her. If she didn’t know better, she’d have sworn Hazel was going to try to hone those matchmaking skills on her, but Hazel had described the Mountain Gals Rendezvous as a lot of fun and a sort of female confidence-building course. The older women, all “graduates” of the course themselves, no longer actively participated in the more-strenuous activities; they only supervised, letting the younger women take turns leading each other in a series of mental and physical challenges.

And no men were allowed. Hazel had made that clear before Jo would even consider coming. Jo didn’t want a fix-up. After Ned, all she wanted was to lick her wounds and stay very far away from the flames that had burned her.

“Low country’s in the rearview mirror now,” Hazel said when the birch-covered foothills were abruptly replaced with steeper slopes and gradually thinning timber.

“Jo, I hope you at least were a Girl Scout,” Bonnie declared, “because I sure wasn’t. Only place I ever camped out was in the backyard.”