by JoAnn Ross
“Didn’t you?” His mouth was warm and certain. Hers, which had been warm but unyielding, slowly softened as she surrendered to the pleasure of the kiss. To him.
“Yes.”
“I knew it.” He moved forward, literally backing Sunny up against the wall, which allowed him to press his body against hers.
“I wished for you to be happy.”
“Yet another wish come true,” he murmured, skimming his lips up her face. He’d come here to seduce her, but as always, as he drank in her wildflower scent and tasted the sweet satin of her skin, Clint found himself becoming seduced.
She tilted her head, giving him access to her neck, and was thrilled when he complied. “With Charmayne.”
“Charmayne?” He stared down at her. “Charmayne Hunter?” When she nodded, he laughed. “And I thought that Hatfield and McCoy mismatch was a doozie.” He shook his head, his smile wider than she’d ever seen it.
Pride surfaced. “I’m so pleased you’re amused.”
“Hell, yes, I am,” Clint said. “All this time you’ve been trying to tell me that you were the wrong woman for me. If you’d only told me who you considered the right woman, I’d have told you that I’d rather spend my life with a nest of rattlers than Charmayne Hunter.”
“You’re a perfect match,” she insisted, wondering what had happened to her wish. “You both grew up on ranches—”
“So did hundreds of other women, including Kitty Campbell and Dora. But I don’t see you trying to fix me up with them.”
Sunny refused to acknowledge that ridiculous statement. “You both ride in the rodeo.”
“Now there’s a reason to get married,” he agreed.
“She’s gorgeous and you’re—”
Sunny immediately shut her mouth. She was growing irritated by his continued refusal to acknowledge that this time she’d managed the perfect love match, and saw no point in boosting his ego any higher.
“I’m what?” Irresistible devils danced in his eyes.
“You’re not a bad looking man,” she admitted a bit grumpily.
“Why, thank you, Sunny. With flowery compliments like that, I’m sure not going to outgrow my hat anytime soon.”
“She’s the right one,” Sunny insisted weakly.
“What did you wish, exactly?” He lowered his head again and began nibbling at her earlobe in a way that made her toes curl in her cowgirl boots.
“Wish?”
He was a wizard, she decided. That was the only explanation for the way he could continually cloud her mind.
“The third wish. What did you say?”
When he switched to the other ear, Sunny sighed. “I wished that you could live out the rest of your life with the woman who was the perfect match for you.”
“Bingo.” His mouth returned to hers and she could feel his satisfied smile against her lips. “That’s you, sunshine.”
“I can’t be.”
“Yes. You can.” He deepened the kiss for a longglorious time and she began to think he just might be right. “You’re a gorgeous, sweet-smelling, good-hearted woman, but you’re a disaster just waiting to happen as a fairy godmother. I figure the least I can do for all those unsuspecting, unattached people out there is to get you out of the business.”
He put his wide dark hand against her cheek and held her still hesitant gaze to his. “I didn’t realize I’d wished for you, Sunny, but I sure as hell must have, because here you are and I love you to distraction, and the only thing I want for Christmas—for all the Christmases to come—is for you to come back to Whiskey River and be my wife.”
She felt the very human tears overflowing her eyes, but her smile assured him that they were tears of joy. She linked her fingers around his neck, because her heart suddenly felt so light, she feared if she didn’t hold on to him, she’d go floating up to the ceiling.
“Oh, yes.” As she lifted her head for his kiss, Sunny realized that as long as she and Clint had each other, they’d always have magic.
Epilogue
One year later
IT WAS SNOWING. Puffy white flakes floated down from the
sky like goose down. As Clint rode back to the house, thoughts of Sunny waiting for him kept him warm.
He’d been to Laura’s grave, just as he had last Christmas. And, as he probably would every Christmas yet to come. It wasn’t that he hadn’t gotten over her, because he had. And it wasn’t because he was still grieving for his lost child, because the baby that tragically hadn’t lived to be born already had a home in his heart.
Clint realized how lucky he was that Sunny didn’t mind the visits on the anniversary of Laura’s death and again during the holidays. She understood, better than most people, that there were many types of love. And confident in his love for her, she wasn’t threatened by the bittersweet feelings he continued to have for the first girl he’d ever loved.
Laura may have been his first love, but Sunny was definitely his last. Clint could barely remember what his life had been like before she’d burst into it; didn’t want to imagine a world without her in it.
She was, without a doubt, the best thing that had ever happened to him. And not a day went by that he didn’t thank God, or Andromeda, or whoever it was who’d sent her to her.
She’d even managed to help save his ranch with her city slickers’ scheme. Last year’s profit had pulled them out of debt and they were already booked to capacity for next year’s spring roundup.
He stabled his mare, rubbed her down and gave her some fresh feed and water. Then he walked back to the house and into the kitchen, where he inhaled the scent of pumpkin pies baking.
“Noel phoned,” Sunny called from the living room when she heard the door open. “She and Mac are going to be a little bit late. They have to drop by the drugstore and pick up some teething gel for Marisa.
“Jess and Rory are on their way, but they still have to stop and pick up Tara and Gavin. Oh, and Trace called from Flagstaff and said Mariah’s plane is late getting in from L.A., but they should be here within the next couple of hours. And Dora and Rooster are still in Payson, checking out the new cutting horse you’re thinking of buying.”
He found her standing on a ladder, hanging yet another ornament on the tree they’d spent all last weekend decorating. The job would have gone faster if they’d kept their mind on their work, he admitted, smiling at the memory of how lovely her skin had looked, bathed in the sparkling white fairy lights.
“So, if everyone’s been delayed, it sounds as if we’ve got about an hour to kill. Any suggestions about how we can spend it?”
Her smile warmed as she stepped down from the ladder and into his outstretched arms. “I think such two perfectly matched individuals should be able to figure out something. If we put our minds to it.”
He began to unbutton her blouse. “Honey, your mind, as brilliant as it may be, is definitely not what I’m interested in right now.”
Later, as Clint pulled on his jeans, he wondered how it was that every time he made love to his wife it was like the first time. If it wasn’t for their anniversary dinner party tonight, he’d find it hard to believe they’d actually been married a year.
“Where did this come from?” he asked as he noticed the snow globe that hadn’t been on top of the dresser when he’d dressed that morning. Inside the glass sphere was a porcelain figure of an infant in a cradle.
Sunny’d come out of the shower, wrapped in a towel that Clint was tempted, even after all they’d just shared, to pull away. “Three guesses. It was there when I came upstairs to make the bed this morning.” Her smile widened. “I think it’s Andromeda’s way of telling me she’s pleased about my news.”
There was something in her voice. Something lushly feminine that, now that he studied her more closely, Clint realized was echoed in her gleaming gold eyes.
“Are you saying…You’re not…”
“You’re going to be a father, Clint.”
“A baby?” He stared at h
er, trying to remember if he’d noticed any difference in her body when they’d been making love earlier. “When?”
“According to Dr. McGraw, you should begin losing sleep around the second week in August.” Her smile was as warm as any a mortal woman had ever shared with her man.
“A baby.” He shook his head, trying to absorb the news. He’d been so happy with Sunny, he hadn’t given any thought to children. Now he realized he’d been afraid to press his luck, to wish for too much.
He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, wishing he didn’t ever have to let her go, terrified something might happen to her before—
”Clint.” Her gentle voice interrupted his whirling thoughts. When she framed his face between her palms, the gold band on her left hand gleamed in the lamplight. “It’s going to be all right. I’m going to be all right. And we’re going to have a wonderful family.”
“Yes.” Fear left on a rush of pent-up breath, and was replaced with awe.
“A family,” he murmured, touching his lips to hers. As the wonder of that idea filled his mind and his heart, Clint laughed. “And they all lived happily ever after.”
eISBN 978-14592-7848-6
AMBUSHED
Copyright © 1996 by JoAnn Ross.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work In whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter Invented, Including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any Information storage or retrieval system, Is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 226 Duncan MID Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters In this book have no existence outside the Imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly Inspired by any Individual known or unknown to the author, and all Incidents are pure Invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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Printed in U.S.A.
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Table of Contents
Excerpt
About the Author
Books by JoAnn Ross
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
Epilogue
Copyright
