Kimberly Meter - That Reckless Night

He’s just a warm body on a cold Alaskan night…

Miranda Sinclair, reeling on the anniversary of her sister’s death, indulges in a passionate night with a stranger. The next day she’s shocked to discover he’s her new boss, Jeremiah Burke! And he got the job she thought was hers.

Still, she’s nothing if not practical. She wants to forget about their night together and focus on tracking the poachers killing black bears on her mountain. Besides, she’s not looking for a relationship, and her instincts tell her Jeremiah is hiding something. Too bad the attraction between them won’t go away, and Miranda starts to wonder if one night will ever be enough….

“My place is just around the corner.”

Miranda seemed to read his mind with those words. “Interested?”

Jeremiah wanted to shout hell, yes but a sliver of reserve had him counter, “Not that I’m not interested, but how about you? Didn’t your father ever warn you about taking off with strange men from bars? I could be a pervert or a serial killer.”

She slid from her barstool and graced him with a dazzling smile that was a bit menacing as she said, “My daddy taught me to shoot a gun, gut a fish and break a kneecap if need be. Strange men in bars don’t scare me.”

She slung her pack onto her back and headed for the door. She shot him a single questioning look, then kept walking. The message was clear: Come or stay, it doesn’t matter to me.

Dear Reader,

As a fan of the rugged beauty of a forest landscape, the startling vibrancy of Alaska’s wild frontier seemed a natural choice for my next series. It was easy to find inspiration in the endless photos of this gorgeous, untamed state, but it wasn’t as easy to find the perfect characters to build a series around. But as they say, nothing worth enjoying comes easily, so I am more than excited to invite you to step into the lives of the Sinclair family as they struggle to find their way to healing and, ultimately, love, while navigating the harsh conditions of their breathtaking state.

Miranda and Jeremiah’s love story is no soft climb to paradise—it’s fraught with danger, grief, emotional healing—but I hope you find their journey all the more satisfying for their struggle.

Hearing from readers is a special joy. Please feel free to drop me a line via email through my website at www.kimberlyvanmeter.comor through snail mail at Kimberly Van Meter, P.O. Box 2210, Oakdale, CA 95361.

Happy reading,

Kimberly Van Meter

That Reckless Night

Kimberly Van Meter

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kimberly Van Meter wrote her first book at sixteen and finally achieved publication in December 2006. She writes for the Mills & Boon Superromance and Mills & Boon Romantic Suspense lines. She and her husband of seventeen years have three children, three cats and always a houseful of friends, family and fun.

I would like to thank Antoinette Ryun for her invaluable insight into Alaskan living.

Without her, I would’ve been unsure where to start, where to inquire, and ultimately lost in pages and pages of research. Thank you, girl!

To my family, twenty books in and you’re all still my biggest fans.

I’m a lucky girl and I will never forget how blessed I am.

To the residents of Alaska, you are so lucky to live in such an amazing place. Please forgive my poetic license regarding certain areas of the landscape. My creative vision of Homer is a pale imitation of this vibrant and thriving place!

Lastly, to my sister Kamrin, who in spite of becoming a new mom, acquiring her first home and still being a newlywed, agreed to become my assistant to help keep me (a flighty creative type!) on track. Thank you, Kikikins! I love you!

Contents

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

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

MIRANDA SINCLAIR TOSSED the tequila popper to the back of her throat, relishing the burn as the liquor warmed her in all the right places, loosening up the tension in her shoulders from a craptastic day in the field and an even crappier anniversary.

“Keep ’em comin’.” She motioned to Russ, a hard-bitten man with cheeks made ruddy by countless years spent in the harsh Alaskan air, who owned and bartended The Rusty Anchor. She offered a grim smile as he slid the shooter across to her in a practiced move, and after she’d dispatched it in the same efficient manner, she swiveled on her barstool to survey the prospects for the night.

That was right—tonight she was going to take home one lucky SOB, ride him as if the world was going to end tomorrow, and then when the first tender rays of light hit the windowsill, she’d send him on his way with a cup of coffee and a boot print on his hindquarters.

It was a helluva plan.

“Killing yourself with booze and bad choices isn’t going to bring her back,” Russ said.

Miranda scowled. “Play bartender psychologist with someone else, Russ. I’m not interested in your counsel right now.”

Russ shook his head. “Always so filled with piss and vinegar. Girl, someday you’re going to have to rein in that acid tongue of yours.”

“So they say,” Miranda quipped. She had plenty of people telling her she needed to try tact once in a while; she didn’t need her bartender to join the chorus, too. “But not tonight. Come on, Russ. Stop crashing on my buzz. I need this.” Besides, contrary to Russ’s opinion, Miranda thought her plan of action was far better than the alternative—curling up in her worn recliner, nursing a bottle of Jack. “Today has to be up there as one of my worst days in a long time.”

“Yeah? What made it so bad?” Russ asked, polishing a glass, his dark eyes serious. Russ knew about the anniversary—for God’s sake, the whole town knew and never let her forget, seeing as it was everyone’s favorite go-to gossip topic—but he was asking about the less-obvious reason she wanted to blot out her brain with booze. She almost waved off his question, not sure she wanted to share, but she did anyway.

“I didn’t get the job,” she answered, her chest tightening again as bitterness followed. “Apparently, I’m not management material.” She tapped the bar with the shot glass for another round. “So, whatever.”

“Did they say why not?”

“Nope. I was just thanked for my interest in the position and politely informed that the department had chosen to go in another direction.” She looked pointedly at Russ and waggled her glass at him. He sighed and refilled it. Yep. This was a much better plan.

Done talking, she swiveled her chair away from Russ and surveyed the bar. Slim pickings to be sure. The bar was filled with the usual nightlife but the place stank of fish, which meant the men probably had wet socks and frozen toes because they were all in port from their commercial fishing outfits scattered throughout Alaska.

She recognized a few familiar faces, Johnny, Macho, Heff—all working on the halibut fishing boat The Arctic Maiden—and certainly not contenders for her purposes tonight. Miranda scanned the room and found a decided lack of options. So much for cutting up and losing herself in a night of debauchery she’d likely regret when she sobered up. For a brief—nanosecond-brief—moment she considered Luke Prather, but the last time she’d taken him to bed for a one-nighter he’d fallen head over heels in love with her and it’d been no fun whatsoever trying to scrape him off her doorstep for weeks afterward. That had been awkward and irritating. No, thanks. Her personal brand of misery did not include ducking the lovelorn. She mentally crossed Luke from her list.