Lone Star Daddy. Cathy Gillen Thacker

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      CATHY GILLEN THACKER is married and a mother of three. She and her husband spent eighteen years in Texas and now reside in North Carolina. Her mysteries, romantic comedies and heartwarming family stories have made numerous appearances on bestseller lists, but her best reward, she says, is knowing one of her books made someone’s day a little brighter. A popular Mills & Boon® author for many years, she loves telling passionate stories with happy endings, and thinks nothing beats a good romance and a hot cup of tea! You can visit Cathy’s website, www.cathygillenthacker.com, for more information on her upcoming and previously published books, recipes and a list of her favorite things.

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      Contents

       Cover

       Introduction

       Title Page

       About the Author

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 Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Epilogue

       Extract

       Copyright

Chapter One

      “You can ignore me as long as you want. I am not going away.” Rose McCabe followed Clint McCulloch around the big farm tractor.

      Wrench in one hand, a grimy cloth in another, the rodeo cowboy turned rancher paused to give her a hostile glare. “Suit yourself,” he muttered beneath his breath. Then went right back to working on the engine that had clearly seen better days.

      Aware she was taking a tiger by the tail, Rose stomped closer. “Sooner or later you’re going to have to hear me out.”

      “Actually, I won’t.” Sweat glistened on the suntanned skin of his broad shoulders and muscular back, dripped down the strip of dark hair that covered his chest, and arrowed down into the fly of his faded jeans.

      Still ignoring her, he moved around the wheel to turn the key in the ignition.

      It clicked. But did not catch.

      His expression impassive, he strode back to the engine once more, giving Rose a good view of his ruggedly handsome face and the thick chestnut hair that fell onto his brow and curled damply against the nape of his neck. At six foot four, there was no doubt Clint was every bit as stubborn—and breathtakingly masculine—as he had been when they were growing up.

      And, because he was four years older than she—which made him thirty-three now—likely feeling as if he were all the wiser. And more experienced.

      Which, she determined fiercely, he was not.

      She ambled close enough to see the darker rim of his sable brown eyes, then inclined her head at the engine. “Still not working, hmm?”

      He grunted and muttered something she was just as glad not to be able to decipher.

      Not above needling him if that was what it took to get his attention, she rocked back on the heels of her cowgirl boots and drawled, “Sure would be nice if you could afford to pay someone who knew СКАЧАТЬ