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“Not now,” he interrupted. “I’ll spend a lifetime”—wonder spread over his face—“an actual lifetime, making amends for what I once did. But for now—” He kissed her again, putting a stop to every question but one. “Will ye let me make love t’ ye in the sun?”
Later, after they’d run laughing across the road, carrying pieces of their clothing, pulling grass out of places grass should not be, Kris lay in bed with her head on Liam’s shoulder.
“I’m glad you’re you,” she said. “But kind of sorry about Nessie. The tourist trade will take a nasty hit.”
“I doubt it.”
Kris drew back so she could see his face; there’d been something in his voice.…
“I never said I was the only thing down there.”
Read on for an excerpt from Lori Handeland’s next book
CRAVE THE MOON
Coming soon from St. Martin’s Paperbacks
“You got another letter from moldy, old Dr. Mecate.”
Gina O’Neil glanced up from grooming a horse to discover her best friend, Jase McCord, holding up a brilliantly white business-sized envelope. She knew exactly what business it contained. How could she not, considering the obstinate Dr. Mecate had sent her at least half a dozen others just like it?
It would behoove you to allow me to dig on your property.
What in hell was a behoove?
Proving my academic theory would increase the cachet of your establishment.
She had the same question about cachet.
I would be happy to advance remuneration.
Who talked like that?
“Helloo.” Jase waved the envelope back and forth, his wide, high cheek–boned face softened by the chip in his front tooth that he’d gotten when he was bucked from a horse at the age of eight. His face, combined with his compact but well-honed body, made him look like a marauding Ute warrior, which was exactly what he would have been if born in a previous century. “What should I—?”
Gina snatched the envelope from his hand. “I’ll take care of it.” In the same way she’d taken care of all the others.
Direct deposit into the trash can.
Gina turned back to Lady Belle, and Jase, sensing her mood, left.
Nahua Springs Ranch was not only Gina’s home but her inheritance. Once one of the most respected quarter horse ranches in Colorado, Nahua Springs had become, after the death of Gina’s parents nearly ten years ago, one of far too many dude ranches in the area. Nevertheless, they’d done all right. Until recently.
Recently she’d begun to receive as many letters from bill collectors as she did from Dr. Mecate. Certainly his remuneration would be welcome, considering their financial difficulties. Unfortunately what he wanted from her was something Gina couldn’t give.
If she opened the letter, she knew what she’d find. A request for her to let him search for Aztec ruins on her property.
She couldn’t do that. What if his search took him there? What if he found … it?
She couldn’t let that happen.
Gina crossed to the open back doorway, drawing in a deep breath of spring air as she stared at the ebony roll of the distant mountains and the spring grass tinged silver by the wisp of a moon.
Giiiiii-naaaa!
Sometimes the wind called her name. Sometimes the coyotes. Sometimes she even heard her name in the calls of the wolves that were never, ever there.
The singsong trill haunted her, reminding her of all she had lost. She’d come to the conclusion that the call was her conscience, shouting out the last word her parents had ever uttered in an attempt to make sure she remembered, as if she c
