Sharon Swan - Husband In Harmony

“I think it’s time we had a look around,” Adam said

Jane nodded, leaning against one of the metal filing cabinets that clearly had seen better days. “Sure. I’ll give you the nickel tour…. Sorry we’re short on the kind of fancy stuff you must be used to.”

But she didn’t look sorry, Adam saw. No, she seemed more amused than anything, as if she was waiting with considerable relish for him to avow needing state-of-the-art technology. Rather than give her the satisfaction, he decided it was time to wipe off that faint smirk.

“What I’m used to doesn’t matter,” he replied bluntly. “What counts is whether I’ll agree to try and pull off a miracle by making this place profitable.”

Her lips, as free of makeup as the rest of her face, thinned in a flash. “Will you?”

Despite the tension between them as they traded glances, he kept his expression bland. “I don’t know yet. We still haven’t finished the nickel tour….”

Husband in Harmony

Sharon Swan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For the Phoenix Desert Rose and Valley of the Sun chapters

of RWA and their group of great writers,

with many thanks for the terrific support

Born and raised in Chicago, Sharon Swan once dreamed of dancing for a living. Instead, she surrendered to life’s more practical aspects, settled for an office job and concentrated on typing and being a big Chicago Bears fan. Sharon never seriously considered writing as a career until she moved to the Phoenix area and met Pierce Brosnan at a local shopping mall. The chance meeting changed her life, because she found herself thinking what if? What if two fictional characters had met the same way? That formed the basis for her first story, and she’s now cheerfully addicted to writing contemporary romance and playing what if?

Sharon loves to hear from readers. You can write her at P.O. Box 21324, Mesa, AZ 85277.

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

912—COWBOYS AND CRADLES

928—HOME-GROWN HUSBAND

939—HUSBANDS, HUSBANDS…EVERYWHERE! * Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

966—FOUR-KARAT FIANCÉE

983—HER NECESSARY HUSBAND * Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Adam Lassiter’s frown came fast and hard when he got his first good look at Glory Ridge Resort and Campground in the bright light of an Arizona summer day.

“Do you mean to tell me,” he said to the woman standing beside him, “that people actually pay to stay at this place?”

Jane Pitt stiffened, both at the words and the dry-as-dust tone, but managed not to answer in the same vein. She knew that giving as good as she got—normally her first response to any sort of confrontation—wouldn’t serve her best interests at the moment. However she might privately feel about slick business consultants who probably thought that slaving in a ritzy office was real work, she could put up with one if she had to.

And this one was slick as spit.

Fancy gray suit, fancy red tie, fancy black leather wing tips. Every long, lean inch of him shouted pricey.

“No one has paid to stay here lately,” Jane said with total honesty. She shoved her hands into the pockets of well-worn jeans and flicked her wheat-colored bangs aside with a shake of her head, reminding herself it was time to get the scissors out and whack some off. “That’s why I’m open to advice for changing the situation.”

“Free advice,” her companion pointed out in his low baritone voice. He gazed down at her with steely gray eyes, and for the umpteenth time in her life Jane wished she were taller. At five feet four and not much more than a hundred pounds dripping wet, looking as formidable as she would have liked was hard. But attitude could make a difference. She’d found that out early on.

“In exchange for a free stay at one of the cabins,” she countered. “I don’t want something for nothing.” She might not be big, but she had lots of pride.

His expression turned wary as he aimed another look at the small log cabins set against towering pines now rustled by a warm breeze. “Are there any safe enough to stay in? I’d hate to hear a roof collapsing on me in the middle of the night.”

“The roofs are sound.” She wouldn’t mention the leaks. “The whole place just needs some fixing up.”

“I’ll say.” He blew out a breath and ran a long-fingered hand through his dark, expertly cut hair. “From what I’ve seen, the best thing you’ve got going for you is the view.”

Jane switched around to take in a scene that would impress the most jaded of people. Low mountains encircled the small, sun-splashed city of Harmony, located a hundred winding miles northeast of Phoenix and its lower desert regions. Glory Ridge ran along the side of one of those mountains. The resort named after the ridge became part of the picture back when Harmony was a much younger version of itself.

“I grew up there, you know,” the man at her side said matter-of-factly.

“In Harmony?” Jane faced him again. “I figured you might have when the top guy at Hayward Investments recommended you. He said you were his cousin.” In fact, Ross Hayward, who she’d been told by people in the know was good for some guidance, had suggested that Adam Lassiter’s talents were just what she needed. She had to hope it was so.

“I grew up on a small ranch on the other side of this mountain,” she offered by way of information.

He nodded. “So you’re a native of the area, too. Hmm. I can’t say that I remember the name Pitt.”

“Probably because my family didn’t get into town much,” she allowed. She could have added that her father, with his gruff-as-a-bear nature, had never been eager to spend time in a city that prided itself on its friendliness. “I was homeschooled until my mother died after a short illness. By then, I was fourteen and ready for Harmony High.”

“You don’t appear to be much more than fourteen now,” he stated, casting a critical eye over her.

Jane stiffened again in an automatic reaction. “I’m double that, Mr. Lassiter.”

If he heard the irritation underscoring that statement, he ignored it. “My own family moved to the Phoenix area when I was still a kid,” he told her. “I’m thirty-four now—and it’s Adam.”

She couldn’t even imagine him as a boy. The man he’d become was far too self-assured.

“I go by just plain Jane,” she said, well aware that truer words had never been spoken. She was plain down to her toes, something her late father had pointed out on a regular basis. At the moment, she could hardly deny that Adam Lassiter, with all his polish, made her feel even plainer. Well, to heck with it, Jane thought. She was what she was.

Adam caught the swift squaring of slender shoulders covered by a checked cotton shirt. He knew the woman he viewed was a long way from thrilled with him—had known it almost from the minute he’d pulled into the parking lot a short distance from the largest cabin in the group, which seemed to serve as the resort’s headquarters. After one clearly unimpressed glance at his low-slung sports car, her hazel eyes had fixed on him as she’d walked over to introduce herself, stray strands of her short hair ruffling in the wind. And what he’d seen in her gaze could hardly be called approval.

Not that he should care one way or the other. And not that he’d even be here if he didn’t have his own agenda. Whether he decided to take Jane Pitt up on her offer would depend on how much it suited his goals as well as hers.

“I think it’s time for a better look around,” he said.

She nodded. “Sure, I’ll give you the nickel tour.”

Which was all a tour might wind up being worth, Adam reflected. He had to admit that he’d been thrown off balance by what he’d seen so far. For all the beauty of the surrounding area, no one with eyes could deny that the resort was in sad shape—a lot sadder shape than he’d bargained on. “Should we start here?” he asked, keeping his tone mild as he indicated the larger cabin with a slant of his head. “I assume that’s where the office is.”

“Right.” Jane led the way down a short gravel path, then up a step and across a narrow covered porch. She tugged open an old screen door and stepped inside.

Adam followed her into a room bordered by thick log walls and saw mostly what he’d expected to see. The scene gave, he thought, a whole new meaning to the phrase no frills. Nothing had probably been altered much from the time the place was first built. A long counter, the green tiles topping it scarred with age, stood at one side of the room and an ancient refrigerator at the other.

Jane glanced over at him. “Want a can of cold pop?”

He would have preferred bottled water, but he only nodded. Something told him you took what you could get with this woman. “I can help myself,” he said.

For the first time, she smiled a faint smile, showing a hint of small white teeth. “Good. I like a man who doesn’t expect to be waited on.”

Adam let that comment hang and started for the refrigerator. When he opened it he found several varieties of soda sharing space with two large coffee cans. “Looks as though someone has a caffeine habit.”

“I like it as well as the next person,” Jane said, “but one of those cans happens to be home to some worms.”

Adam resisted the urge to grimace—he had a hunch that would please her far too much. Instead, he calmly chose a can of cola and closed the refrigerator.

“Ever been worm hunting…Adam?” she asked, using his given name for the first time.

“Not lately…Jane,” he replied, and popped the can open. He didn’t miss the amused glint in her eye as he took a long swallow. Okay, so he hadn’t gone digging for fish bait since he was a kid, and even then he hadn’t done it that often. If he wanted to be candid, he could tell her that he wasn’t much of an outdoorsman—not the kind who would find this type of setting familiar, at any rate. But why admit it? If he decided to stay here, she’d probably discover it soon enough.