Marie Ferrarella - Christmas Cowboy Duet

Whitney had to understand his motives. First saving her from drowning and rescuing her car, and now helping her find a place to stay.

“I did have a hand in saving your life, so that gives us a kind of bond,” he told her. “I also want you to be happy living the life I saved.”

The man was practically a saint. Excited, relieved and feeling almost euphoric, Whitney threw her arms around his neck and declared, “You’re a lifesaver.” She said it a second before she kissed him.

She only meant for it to be a quick pass of her lips against his, the kind of kiss one good friend gives another. But at the last second, Liam turned his head just a fraction closer in her direction. What began as a fleeting kiss turned into a great deal more.

Something of substance and depth.

The exuberance she had initially felt stole her breath. Her body suddenly ignited, and had his arms not gone around her when they did, she would not be standing up right now. A wave of weakness snaked through her, robbing her of the ability to stand. Forcing her to cling to him in order to remain upright.

She shouldn’t be doing this.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MARIE FERRARELLA, a USA TODAY bestselling and RITA ®Award-winning author, has written more than two hundred books for Mills & Boon, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide. Visit her website, www.marieferrarella.com.

To

Dr Seric Cusick, the ER physician who sewed my face back together.

Thank you!

Contents

Cover

Introduction “Why should you go out of your way like this for someone you don’t even know?” Whitney had to understand his motives. First saving her from drowning and rescuing her car, and now helping her find a place to stay. “I did have a hand in saving your life, so that gives us a kind of bond,” he told her. “I also want you to be happy living the life I saved.” The man was practically a saint. Excited, relieved and feeling almost euphoric, Whitney threw her arms around his neck and declared, “You’re a lifesaver.” She said it a second before she kissed him. She only meant for it to be a quick pass of her lips against his, the kind of kiss one good friend gives another. But at the last second, Liam turned his head just a fraction closer in her direction. What began as a fleeting kiss turned into a great deal more. Something of substance and depth. The exuberance she had initially felt stole her breath. Her body suddenly ignited, and had his arms not gone around her when they did, she would not be standing up right now. A wave of weakness snaked through her, robbing her of the ability to stand. Forcing her to cling to him in order to remain upright. She shouldn’t be doing this.

Title Page Christmas Cowboy Duet Marie Ferrarella www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author MARIE FERRARELLA , a USA TODAY bestselling and RITA ® Award-winning author, has written more than two hundred books for Mills & Boon, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide. Visit her website, www.marieferrarella.com .

Dedication To Dr Seric Cusick, the ER physician who sewed my face back together. Thank you!

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

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

She’d never learned how to swim.

Somehow, there never seemed to be the right time to sneak in lessons.

Since she was born and bred in Los Angeles, close to an ocean and many pools, everyone just assumed she knew how to swim. It was a given. There were all those beaches, all that tempting water seductively lapping against the shore during those glorious endless summers.

But Whitney Marlowe had never had the time nor the inclination to get swimming lessons. Something more pressing always snagged her attention.

For as long as Whitney could remember, she’d always had this little voice inside of her head urging her on, whispering about goals that had yet to be met.

Swimming was recreational. Swimming was associated with fun. Even growing up, Whitney never seemed to have time for fun, except maybe for a few minutes at a time. A child of divorce, she was far too involved in making a name for herself to dwell on recreation. Everyone in her family was driven and it seemed as if from the very first moment of her life, she had been embroiled in one competition or another.

Oh, she dearly loved her siblings, all five of them, but she loved them just a tiny bit more whenever she could best them at something. It didn’t matter what, as long as she could come out the winner.

Her father had promoted this spirit of competition, telling his children that it would better equip them when they went out into the world. He’d been a hard taskmaster.

But right now, all those goals, all those triumphant moments, none of them mattered. None of them meant anything because the sum total of all that wasn’t going to save her.

This was it, Whitney thought in frantic despair.

This was the place where she was going to die. Outside of a town that hadn’t even been much more than an imperceptible dot on her map. A stupid little town prophetically named Forever . Because her car—and most likely her body—were going to become one with this godforsaken place. She would become eternally part of Forever’s terrain and nobody was even going to realize it because she would live at the bottom of some body of water.

Forever.

Oh, why had she taken this so-called “shortcut”? she upbraided herself. Why hadn’t she just gone the long way to Laredo the way she’d initially intended? It wasn’t as if she was trying to outdo her brother in trying to land this new account for the family recording label. She was the only one who’d been dispatched to audition the new band The Lonely Wolves. Desperate for their big break, the band would have waited for her to come until hell froze over.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t hell freezing over that was about to be the cause of her demise; it was the torrential rains, all but unheard of in this part of the country at this time of year.

And yet, here it was, a downpour the likes of which she had never witnessed before. The kind that would have had Noah quickly boarding up the door of his ark and nervously setting sail.

The rains had fallen so fast and so heavily, the dry, parched ground—clay for the most part—couldn’t begin to absorb it. One minute, she was driving through a basin, her windshield wipers going so fast, she thought they were in danger of just flying off into the wind. The next, the rain was falling so hard that the poor windshield wipers had met their match and did absolutely no good at all.

Stunned, Whitney had done her best, struggling to keep her vehicle straight, all the while getting that sinking feeling that she was fighting a losing battle. Before she knew it, her tires were no longer touching solid ground.

The rains were filling up the basin, turning the cracked, dusty depression into what amounted to a giant container for all this displaced, swiftly accumulating water.