The Seduction Of Fiona Tallchief by Cait London

Author:Cait London [London, Cait]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-06-08T05:00:00+00:00

She ran on foot through the night, ducking pine branches over the trail and muttering, Morning Star’s reins clasped in her hand. Joel Palladin had raised her fears and her longings and he could tear her apart. His vulnerability, longing to give his son a meaningful life, and his tenderness would have sunk any woman’s defenses. Fiona ducked a branch, hopped over a log and leaped into panic. Sweat dripped from her, impatiently swept away, only to return. Her heart raced, pounded with running and with the thoughts of how Joel had looked, towering over her, a man no longer cold and hard, but one steaming and hungry.

“He made me break one of my rules—going after him as though he needed to be claimed! As if I were running after him! I’ve actually cooked and cleaned for that man, and worried about him!”

After returning Morning Star to Birk’s pasture, Fiona walked through the familiar shadows of Amen Flats. There was Calum and Talia’s house, a modern affair; Lacey and Birk’s restored bordello stood on a knoll overlooking Amen Flats. Near Tallchief Mountain, Duncan and Sybil and their brood nestled in their beds, and Elspeth and Alek cherished the old Russian homestead with sheep grazing in the moonlit fields. Fiona studied the mountains jutting into the night sky, calling her. Perhaps her Tallchief blood sang wild in the night, the trees and the rocks and the meadows beckoning to her.

This was home and where she had to find herself. Fiona let herself into the greenhouse, needing the fresh earth scents and the cool ferns brushing at her hot cheeks. Abe and George, lizards that kept her greenhouse free of insect pests, hurried along the cool tile floor, peering up at her.

Fiona shivered, sweeping the flat of her hand along the heather starts as she moved through the darkness. In the spring she and Elspeth would plant the starts on Tallchief Mountain where their parents could enjoy them. At one o’clock in the morning she wanted Joel Palladin’s lean and muscular, slightly hairy, warm and desirable body curled around her. “Without a stitch between us,” Fiona added her thought aloud.

Perhaps she had inherited her wild needs from Tallchief, the need to claim Joel Palladin humming through her like a taut, hot wire that wouldn’t let her rest.

She reached the showcase, surveyed the flowers and selected tiny, white, tea rosebuds, braiding them with baby’s breath and ferns and placing the delicate coronet on top of her head. Years ago her mother used to braid sweetgrass and wildflowers and—Fiona sighed heavily, tiredly, accepting the sleepless hours ahead of her until the shop opened in the morning. Because she needed more soothing, Fiona scooped up the display of lush red roses and buried her face in their fragrance.

She’d been obsessed by her investigation of Joel’s life, and now that it was over, she was even more fascinated with him than before. She’d made him angry, his body tense and his face angular, hard, eyes riveting hers while Mozart framed their duel with music.

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