Diana Palmer - White Christmas - Woman Hater / The Humbug Man

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Praise for the novels of New York Timesand USA TODAYbestselling author Praise Title Page Woman Hater One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven The Humbug Man One Two Three Four Five Copyright

DIANA PALMER

‘Palmer demonstrates, yet again, why she’s the

queen of … quests for justice and true love.’

—Publishers Weekly on Dangerous

‘Nobody does it better.’

—New York Times bestselling author Linda Howard

‘The popular Palmer has penned another winning

novel, a perfect blend of romance and suspense.’

—Booklist on Lawman

‘Palmer knows how to make the sparks fly … heartwarming.’

—Publishers Weekly on Renegade

‘Diana Palmer is a mesmerising storyteller who

captures the essence of what a romance should be.’

—Affaire de Coeur

‘Sensual and suspenseful’

—Booklist on Lawless

White Christmas

Woman Hater

The Humbug Man

Diana Palmer

White Christmas Woman Hater The Humbug Man - изображение 1 www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

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Praise Praise for the novels of New York Timesand USA TODAYbestselling author Praise Title Page Woman Hater One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven The Humbug Man One Two Three Four Five Copyright DIANA PALMER ‘Palmer demonstrates, yet again, why she’s the queen of … quests for justice and true love.’ —Publishers Weekly on Dangerous ‘Nobody does it better.’ —New York Times bestselling author Linda Howard ‘The popular Palmer has penned another winning novel, a perfect blend of romance and suspense.’ —Booklist on Lawman ‘Palmer knows how to make the sparks fly … heartwarming.’ —Publishers Weekly on Renegade ‘Diana Palmer is a mesmerising storyteller who captures the essence of what a romance should be.’ —Affaire de Coeur ‘Sensual and suspenseful’ —Booklist on Lawless

Title Page White Christmas

Woman Hater Woman Hater

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

The Humbug Man

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Copyright

Woman Hater

One

When Gerald Christopher first suggested going to his family ranch in Montana to rest his recently diagnosed ulcer for a few weeks, Nicole had instant reservations. He was the boss, of course, and if he wanted to go to Montana, there was no reason he shouldn’t. But Nicole liked the pleasant routine of life in Chicago, where she’d spent the last two years working for the Christopher Corporation. At twenty-two, Nicole White had found a nice, pleasant rut for herself and she didn’t particularly like change.

The problem was that if Mr. Christopher went to Montana for a month, as he was threatening, and closed down his personal office while he was gone, Nicole would be out of a job until his return. Despite her adequate wages, trying to live for a month without any salary was a frightening thought. That was almost laughable considering her background, because Nicole’s family had been one of the old moneyed ones of Kentucky. Her father, in fact, was still one of the jet set, a noted sportsman as well as a horse-racing magnate, and lived the part. Nicole had long since renounced her share of the family fortune and gone to work for a living.

Her mother’s death had been the last straw. Her father had been with his latest mistress at the time, not that he’d ever been home a lot. That hadn’t mattered at the time, because Nicole had been sure that her new fiancé, Chase James, would set up their marriage and that his job as a real estate agent would make it possible for him to support the two of them. She’d figured wrong. Once Chase found out that Nicole had been foolish enough to give up her family fortune—and when he realized that she couldn’t possibly be talked out of it—he asked for his ring back. His immediate defection to one of Nicole’s moneyed and eligible girlfriends had shattered her young life.

At the age of twenty, she’d left the elegant brick mansion of her childhood in Lexington, Kentucky, and a racehorse farm worth millions, to live the frugal life as a secretary in Chicago, where she had a friend with whom she could room. She smiled, remembering her lack of skills at the time, and how patient Mr. Christopher had been until she’d crammed in some courses at the local secretarial school. Lucky for her that he’d liked her personality and had decided to take a chance on her secretarial skills improving. They had. She’d graduated from the course at the top of her class.

It all seemed a long time ago now, a part of her life that was like some slowly fading photograph of a reality she no longer belonged to….

“You’ll like it there, Nicky,” Gerald Christopher said dreamily, staring out the window. “The ranch is in the southern part of the state, nestled in the Rocky Mountains. It’s rich with forests, lakes, rivers, peace and quiet. Just the thing to help me get over this ulcer they’ve diagnosed. We can work in peace and you can have plenty of free time to yourself.”

“But your brother and his family—won’t they mind having your secretary to house and feed?” she asked, her pale green eyes hesitant in a plain but interesting oval face, surrounded by naturally curling short dark hair. Despite the fact that she’d worked for him for two years, she knew very little about his private life. He’d never made a habit of talking casually about anything personal, as some employers did. She knew he had a brother, and he’d mentioned a woman named Mary, whom she’d assumed was his sister-in-law. But that was really all she knew about him in any personal way.

“Winthrop doesn’t have a family,” he said, smiling as he turned toward her. He was tall with brown hair and dark brown eyes. Not a bad-looking man and he seemed pleasant enough, but he wasn’t a woman chaser or a ladies’ man. He was very businesslike and a terrific boss, and Nicky adored him. In a purely businesslike way, of course. Her heart was pretty impregnable these days, hardened by Chase’s cruel defection. That had ended her dreams of marriage. The hated wealth that had blinded her to men’s greed was gone now, too. And without her designer clothing and her diamonds, men didn’t seem to notice her at all. Of course, her manner was stiff and off-putting with most men, but she didn’t even realize it.

“Your brother came to the office once, didn’t he?” she ventured, recalling vaguely a tall, very cold sort of man she’d barely glimpsed on an unusually hectic day and had learned later that it was Mr. Christopher’s mysterious older brother.

“Yes, he did,” he said. “Winthrop owns a small share in the corporation, you see, but he’s the silent partner. He doesn’t care for desks and boardrooms. Dad left him the ranch, which is worth a mint, and I have an equally small share in that. He’s primarily a cattleman, and I’m a businessman, so we each have what we like most. He’s something of a loner. But as long as we keep out of his way, we won’t have any trouble.”

That sounded ominous. She looked at the green-lined white steno pad in her lap. “A month is a long time,” she said slowly.

“Come on, Nicky, what have you got going that you can’t walk away from?” he chided gently. “No boyfriends, no evening classes. A month in the country would do you good. If that wealth of potted plants you surround your desk with is any indication, you must be a country girl at heart. Or at the very least, a frustrated gardener.”

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