Cherry Adair - Kiss and Tell

"A SEXY, SNAPPY ROLLER-COASTER RIDE!"

--SUSAN ANDERSEN,

AUTHOR OF BABY, DON'T GO

Kiss andTell

CherryAdair

A sassy, shameless romantic adventure about a manbetrayed and the woman

who rocks his untamed world...

MarnieWright has seen more than her fair share of testosterone, having grown up withfour over-protective brothers. But now a longhaired mountain man named JakeDolan has invaded a peaceful day of soul-searching at her grandmother's oldcabin. Sure, she was trespassing on his private property, but did he have topull a gun on her? After being stashed in his secret underground lair--completewith security monitors and a huge arsenal--Marnie realizes the guy is military, topsecret military. Yet he also has the most beautiful mouth she has everseen.

Thelast thing Jake wants in his dangerous life is a woman. Doesn't like them.Doesn't need them. But a man would have to be dead not to fall for thesexy-as-sin Marnie Wright. But how could he have feelings for someone who maybe killed just for being close to him? His days, after all, are numbered...

Kiss and Tell

Visit our Web site at www.ballantinebooks.com

ISBN0-449-00683-2

KISS AND TELL

Cherry Adair

IVY BOOKS * NEW YORK

An Ivy Book

Published by The Ballantine Publishing Group

Copyright (c) 2000 by Cherry Adair

Ivy Books and colophon are trademarks of Random House,Inc.

www.randomhouse.com

ISBN 0-449-00683-2

Manufactured in the United States of America

FirstEdition: September 2000

For the Ladies on board the BICC train--

if friends were flowers, I'd pick you.

For Rose Lerma, Susan Plunkett,

Pamela Britton, and Jennifer Skullestad.

For great memories, and lifelong friendships.

You are the best.

And always for my flyboy, David, with all my love.

The perimeter alarms were set to gooff when anything heavier than a hundred pounds crossed the almost invisiblebreakers. At first all Jake saw on the monitor was the fawn-colored Great Dane.The damn thing was a mean-looking bastard and as big as a house.

"Where the hell did you comefrom?"

The dog's large, square head andpointy ears swiveled, as if it could smell him down here, twenty feet belowground level. Jake stuck his size fourteens up on the counter and took anotherswig of soda. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the flat-screen monitorbefore him.

A second later his feet dropped tothe floor at the same time his fist crushed the empty can. "Shit."

The dog had been hiding her.

For a split second...

Jake absently touched the scar on histhroat and ignored the from zero-to-eighty acceleration of his blood pressure.He leaned forward to adjust the focus and shifted closer to get a better look.

A slender blonde, drowning in a greendown jacket, sat not thirty feet from the front door of his cabin on the treeuprooted by last year's storm. Fair hair, all the colors of the sun andfingered by the breeze, danced in joyous spiral curls around her face andhunched shoulders as she concentrated on something in her lap.

Her skin was fair instead of dusky,her hair silky, not coarse, the angle of her head unfamiliar. She was no ghostfrom the past. Thank God.

Nevertheless, he didn't want herhere.

Jake didn't know who she was or whatshe was doing in the high, remote Sierras at the nose of winter. Her merepresence was suspect. Not that she appeared to be anything other than a cuteblonde on a solitary mountain hike. But then looks could be deceiving.

Neither the girl nor the dog waswelcome.

He didn't like dogs. In his line ofwork they tended to be unpredictable. As for the fluffy blonde... Jakeslam-dunked the squashed can into the trash, then leaned forward for a betterlook. He definitely didn't like that breed, either.

Closer inspection didn't improve herone bit. Unfortunately he hadn't had a woman in nearly a year, and this cupcakemade his mouth water. Too bad. Like a mouse to an elephant, like David toGoliath. She was exactly the type of woman he avoided like the plague--petite,blonde, and delicate.

He was bone exhausted from anassignment in a small, forgotten Middle Eastern country where all hell hadbroken loose. All he'd wanted to do was take a break. Instead he'd come home tofind the shit hitting the fan, his sixteen-year career in the toilet, and thevacation he'd wanted being enforced.

He had no time for the blondeoutside.

Most likely a strong "boo"would send girl and hound running for town. After they left he'd get back tofiguring out who was screwing with his life.

Marnie Wright wished she'd brought alonga warm cap. Cold air nipped at her ears, making them sting. Dismissing thediscomfort, she focused on the sketch pad in her lap.

It had been a bonus finding this oldcottage tucked into the hillside. She'd hate to waste the light walking themile back to her grandmother's cottage just because she was cold. She flippedup her collar and hunched her shoulders.

Only the front walls and the peak ofthe shingled roof showed through the surrounding trees, shrubs, and piles ofdeadfall. It was in better shape than Grammy's. While rustic, the wood sidingand front porch had recently been repaired. The roof appeared solid, thewindows intact.

Marnie flexed her fingers, narrowingher eyes at the log cabin before she continued drawing. The little house wasperfect for the creepy Halloween story she was working on. All it needed was alittle atmosphere. She shaded a curved whisper of smoke above the chimney,elongating dark shadows to make the small house unwelcoming and sinister. Thefluid black lines of her charcoal pencil skimmed the page. Beside her,Duchess's head swiveled.

"What're you listening to? Achipmunk?"

Her dog made a low sound in herthroat and wagged her tail.

Marnie laughed, her breath misting inthe frigid air. "Don't go far." She put her hand behind her pet'smassive head and looked her sternly in the eye. "And don't playwith it, you hear me?"

Duchess bounded to the closed door ofthe empty cottage. She settled her backside on the front step, ears perked.Marnie smiled. Duchess loved her creature comforts. Rather than frolic about inthe cold, she wanted inside.

"That's not home, goofus. Giveme a few more minutes and we'll pack up and go, okay?"

She had lugged her sleeping bag andsupplies to her grandmother's cottage before she and Duchess had taken astroll, ending up at this isolated place. The exercise, and the cold, had madeher hungry, too. She smelled rain and wanted to be back before it startedpouring.

With a frown she considered for halfa second going home to Sunnyvale. The river had a tendency to flood, making thebridge impassable. Leaving would be the prudent, safe thing to do.

But she didn't want to beprudent and sensible anymore. The decisions and choices she made in the nextcouple of days were going to change her future. After a lifetime of playing itsafe, she needed to learn to take the chances life presented her.

Some of her happiest memories hadbeen made up here at Grammy's cottage. And here was where she was going todecide the course of the rest of her life. A little rain wasn't going to deterher.

She'd almost forgotten what a pain inthe butt it was to get up here. She'd left her car at the end of the narrowmountain road, then crossed the skinny footbridge fording the river, passedover another bridge spanning the ravine, and then had a three-milehike up the mountainside. As kids, she and her brothers hadn't noticed suchminor inconveniences. It had always been a grand adventure to come here withGrammy. They'd explored every inch of the mountain, played in the river, andclimbed the trees like monkeys.