Читать онлайн «Her Montana Man»
Автор Paige Laurie
Stories of family and romance beneath the Big Sky!
“That is the skimpiest bathing suit I’ve ever seen,” Pierce told Chelsea as she rose out of the icy water of the lake.
She looked at her two-piece suit. It was cut high on the legs, as all of them were. “Surely not,” she said airily.
Uh-oh, wrong thing to say. He looked as if he would like to choke her.
“That outfit might be modest for the city, but around here, folks dress more circumspectly. ”
Chelsea couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing. “I’m sorry. It’s just that you don’t sound at all like the Pierce Dalton who dared me to go skinny dipping in the pool at my apartment building at three o’clock on a January morning. ”
“I’m not here to discuss the past,” he informed her. “If the guys working here see you like that, they’ll take it as an open invitation to visit. I won’t have them distracted by a siren from the city. ”
Chelsea rubbed the end of the towel over her dripping hair. “You’d better watch yourself, too, Pierce. City sirens are hard to resist. ”
Her Montana Man
Laurie Paige
LAURIE PAIGE
“One of the nicest things about writing romances is researching locales, careers and ideas.
In the interest of authenticity, most writers will try anything…once. ” Along with her writing adventures, Laurie has been a NASA engineer, a past president of the Romance Writers of America, a mother and a grandmother. She was twice a RITA® Award finalist for Best Traditional Romance and has won awards from RT Book Reviews for Best Silhouette Special Edition and Best Silhouette, in addition to appearing on the USA TODAY bestseller list. Recently resettled in Northern California, Laurie is looking forward to whatever experiences her next novel brings.To Bobby and Melba,
for all the adventures in Montana.
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 One
Chelsea Kearns stripped the surgical gloves from her hands and tossed them in the Contaminated Waste Disposal bin. In the locker room she showered, then dressed in street clothing of khaki slacks and a cotton shirt of cool, mint green.
Once outside the hospital, which housed the county morgue, she breathed deeply several times before unlocking her car from the passenger side, opening both doors and letting the accumulated heat escape.
Here in the Beartooth Mountains of Montana just north of Yellowstone National Park, summers were usually pleasant—low eighties during the day, forties at night. The temperature on the digital display at the bank proclaimed the temperature to be ninety-three.
“This heat is terrible. It must be global warming,” a passerby said to her companion as they strolled past Chelsea. “The government should do something. ”
“Maybe we’ll have a thundershower later this afternoon,” the companion said in a soothing voice.
The first woman grimaced. “Those only bring lightning and forest fires at this time of the year. ”
