The Passionate Lover. Кэрол МортимерЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Table of Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       Copyright

       CHAPTER ONE

      THE heavy snow beat with icy determination against her numbed cheeks as she stumbled through its blinding thickness, the fashionable black anorak she wore no defence against its relentlessness. Kenny had written and warned her that the Montana winters could be harshly cold, but she had knowingly thought only of the icy English winters she had known all her life, little dreaming that when Kenny said harsh he meant so cold the snow had turned to stinging icicles before it even reached the ground. Consequently the fleecy anorak and fashionably tight denims tucked into high-heeled boots were little protection against the blizzard she suddenly found herself in.

      And it was a blizzard. She may never have experienced one before but she knew she was in the midst of one now. The snow was already feet deep in places, and as it fell fast and furious against her face and body it gave no indication of stopping for some time, the dryness of the minus-thirty temperature taking her breath away as she fought her way slowly forward.

      She wasn't even sure how she had come to wander off in this way, had been sure, when she first realised she could no longer see the blue four-wheel-drive truck, that Kenny would find her within minutes. But more than minutes had passed now; she seemed to have been wandering around for hours. And she wasn't even sure she was going in the right direction! She could even be walking around in hideously lost circles.

      She took a firm grip on herself at that thought. Kenny would find her any second now. He had to!

      She couldn't help thinking how different the life she had lived here the last two weeks was from the one she had made for herself in London during and since her marriage to Gavin. Shelby O'Neal, one of London's most successful and exclusive hostesses living on a ranch in Montana, even seriously planning to marry one of the Double K's owners. The first part of the Double K she was sure she loved, the second part…! Kyle Whitney, Kenny's older cousin, was someone she preferred not to think about.

      But as the slow, painful minutes passed and she still stumbled through the blinding blizzard in the fast darkening night one thought possessed and held her horror-struck brain. She was going to die out here in this frozen wasteland!

      Her legs felt so tired as she struggled to stay upright in the deep snow, and she could no longer feel her toes in the leather boots, the hard snow that fell against the sensitive skin of her face now feeling like painful needles digging into her. She wasn't winning this fight, and although not normally a defeatist she knew she couldn't fight and win this battle against such fierce elements. She was going to die, out here alone in the snow, was just going to collapse and die of the cold and no one would even know it had happened. For a wild hysterical moment she wondered if anyone would care! Then she berated herself. Kenny would care, they were to be married in a few weeks’ time. Then why hadn't he found her, damn him?

      She was being unfair now. But this whole situation was unfair. The tears dried on her cheeks before they barely had time to fall, and she wiped at her face impatiently. Twenty-five was too young to die, especially when she had so much to live for. If it wouldn't be so damned futile in this howling wind she would scream—Scream…! Why not? It was a sure fact that Kenny wouldn't be able to see her in this, but there was a chance, just a chance, that he might hear her if she screamed.

      Shelby knew it was hopeless even as she opened her mouth to emit the cry for help. The words seemed to be thrown back at her as the wind whipped eerily about her, and she knew that the sound of her voice had just added brief depth to the wind before it was swallowed up. It was futile, she was being a fool to tell herself any differently. No one could find her in this weather, she could be miles from where she and Kenny had got out of the truck to admire the beautiful scenery of the snow-covered mountains, the snowfall only light then, or she could, alternatively, be only feet away and just unable to see him.

      Whatever, she was too tired to care any more. She had never felt so tired and utterly helpless in her life before, just wanted to lie down and sleep until it was all over. The crisp white snow suddenly looked like an inviting bed of floating clouds, warm and inviting, like the arms of a lover.

      And maybe she would have laid down in his arms and slept forever if she hadn't found the cabin.

      To say she found the cabin wasn't strictly true, it found her. Actually she walked into it. Her visibility was down to nil by this time, her body one long ache, and when she walked into the solid object in front of her she assumed it was just another of the tall pine trees she had managed to avoid as they suddenly loomed up in front of her in her haphazard walk. The blow she received to her temple as she made contact made her head ring, and she fell to her knees in numbed pain and despair, sure she wasn't going to be able to get up again. Then she realised the object that had caused her so much pain was too big to be a mere tree, the shape of the wood seeming to indicate the tree lay horizontal rather than vertical. She almost had herself convinced she was hallucinating when in her stumbling her hand suddenly encountered a door handle and she actually fell inside the cabin.

      It was very dark inside, too dark to see if it had any occupants, and Shelby looked into the gloom warily. She may have got herself into a worse situation than before! ‘Er—Hello?’ Her voice came out quivering with uncertainty, all of the self-confidence she possessed as the owner of O'Neal's, a women's salon in London, seeming to have deserted her in the face of this previously unthinkable danger.

      When she realised there was going to be no reply to her tentative query, not even a stirring of movement inside, she knew there was no occupant, her breath leaving her with a relieved sigh. A sigh that was quickly followed by deep-rooted panic. If there was no occupant of the cabin then she was still alone, with no way of