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Hot Holiday Rancher. Catherine MannЧитать онлайн книгу.

Hot Holiday Rancher - Catherine Mann


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A far cry from the heels she’d slipped on this morning with such relish. But as least she was warm. And clean.

      She left the steam-filled bathroom and returned to her suite. Swiping her phone from the coffee table, she dropped down into the desk chair next to the fireplace. Stones flanked the fireplace, giving the guest suite the feel of a swanky cabin. Her toes sank into the plush rug as she FaceTimed her sister.

      Of all of her siblings, Angela Perry worried the most. And judging by the four texts Esme had received while she was showering, her sister was imagining every worst-case scenario.

      She propped the phone against a leather-bound book on the desk to free her hands to brush through the rat’s nest that had replaced her hair.

      Within a few rings, her sister’s blond hair and rounded face came into view. Angela sat on the ground in front of the new gas fireplace she’d just had installed, flames flickering. Orchestral carols played softly in the background.

      “Well, hello there.” Angela stared back at her, her blue eyes flaring in surprise. “You look…not like yourself. No offense meant.”

      “None taken.” Running the brush through a knot in her hair, Esme laughed lightly. Her sister had never been a clotheshorse, preferring an understated style. A love of fashion had been at least one thing Esme could share with Melinda, since Angela and her twin had just about everything else in common.

      They even lived in the same condominium building—an upscale thirty-two-floor limestone high-rise with wraparound windows and expansive views. The twins had even chosen the same layout, Angela on the fifteenth floor and Melinda on the twenty-fourth.

      “Well, this has been quite a day. Or night, rather.”

      Angela tossed a scrap of Christmas wrapping paper into the fire behind her, then reached for another roll. “Definitely not the image of my glamorous sister.”

      “Stranger things have happened.” But heat still stung her cheeks. One of the ways Esme gained her confidence—and kept her sensitive soul in check—was through a careful curation of makeup, hair and luxurious clothes. The oversize sweats she was wearing rattled her. Threw her off-balance.

      Though, if she were being honest, not any more than her sexy host.

      Her sister’s thin fingers moved deftly over a small stack of jewelry boxes with elegant silver script reading “Diamonds in the Rough.” Esme guessed the packages were for her and Melinda, not that she could see inside. Most likely Melinda’s contained something to celebrate her baby on the way. The pregnancy had been a surprise to Melinda and her new husband, Slade, but a welcome one. And pregnancy hadn’t slowed down her sister’s philanthropic works one bit.

      To her right, Angela had a bin filled with gold and red foil paper with intricate bows. Designer-level gift-wrapping supplies. A small stack of already-wrapped presents glistened in the fire glow. Esme always told her sister they could afford to pay someone to wrap the gifts for them, but Angela insisted she enjoyed doing it herself, making each one a work of art.

      And Christmas was all the more special since Angela had reunited with her former fiancé, Ryder Currin.

      Angela ripped clear tape off to secure the golden foil on one of the smaller jewelry boxes. “I’m glad you called. I was starting to get worried. Weather reports are looking terrible in Royal.”

      Esme thought of the soaked, muddy clothes she had carefully placed in a bag next to the bathtub. She winced a little. “The reports are accurate.”

      “But you’re okay?” her sister asked, genuine worry in her voice.

      She nodded, enjoying the soft sounds of violins surging through “Ave Maria.”

      “I got caught in a flash flood, but lucky for me, I was close to Stevens’s ranch. He saw my headlights and came to my rescue.”

      “Sounds like a close call. I can’t imagine your low-slung car held up well in those conditions.”

      “You can get the judgy tone out of your voice. I know you weren’t a fan of my purchase.” Esme worked the last of the tangles from her hair, smoothing the brush down the length until she was satisfied that all the knots were out. At least she’d managed to restore some semblance of order in her life.

      “It’s your money to do with as you please,” her sister said as she reached toward a stack of unwrapped presents. Picking up a handsome brass shaving kit, she started sizing up the necessary material to wrap it.

      “Well, you can rest easy. My next purchase will come with four-wheel drive.” Sporty four-wheel drive.

      Angela set down the paper and peered into the screen, her blue eyes fixed but still kind. The look of an older sister. “I just care about you.”

      “I know.” It was tough to discard the defensiveness sometimes, feeling like an outsider with her sisters’ twin bond. “And thank you for caring.”

      Her sister nodded, continuing her methodical wrapping. Without looking up from lining up the edge of the paper with machinelike precision, she said, “So, what’s the progress with Jesse Stevens?”

      “I’ve barely had time to shower, much less make progress.”

      “Shower?” She raised a blond eyebrow. “At Jesse Stevens’s house? You’re there now?”

      “Yes, and no need to sound scandalized. I was drenched. I needed to change.” She glanced down at her clothes. When was the last time she’d worn sweats? High school maybe. Or middle school. As rarely as she could manage. “But enough about me. How was your date with Ryder last night?”

      Her sister had been engaged to none other than their father’s longtime nemesis Ryder Currin, who also happened to be in the running to head the Houston branch of the Texas Cattleman’s Club. Angela and Ryder had broken up, but were now back together again with Sterling Perry’s blessing. Esme would wager money a reengagement wasn’t too far off.

      She just hoped Ryder was really right for her sister. He’d been married twice before—divorced from the first wife and widowed by the second. He had one child from each of those marriages, plus an adopted daughter. All adults. Such a complicated blended family.

      Angela deserved to have a man love her unconditionally.

      “I never thought he and I would have another chance, but things are good, really good.”

      Her blue eyes turned wistful and the smile that warmed her face drew a pang of guilt from Esme over her doubts and concerns.

      “I wish I could have been there for us to talk all about it in person over lunch.”

      Angela nodded, her smile still present but soft. “That would have been fun, but I understand.”

      Her sister leaned back to the pile of gifts—a cashmere scarf, leather-bound books, artisanal reclaimed-wood trays. The silver strands in her chunky gray sweater glimmered.

      Christmas was coming at the end of the month and Esme hadn’t even begun her shopping. She wished she had her sister’s love for organization and gift-giving. Maybe then she would feel more connected to the holiday. “If only I’d waited to leave…”

      “Dad appreciates what you’re doing for him. This is important.”

      Was it, though? More important than being with her sister? She’d tried to convince her dad that this could wait a couple of days, but he’d insisted. And she hadn’t stood up to him. She’d even had the weather as an excuse and she hadn’t taken it.

      “Well, I’ll be back in Houston before you know it. We can have brunch and chat over mimosas.”

      “That would great. Just let me know when you’re finished there and I’ll line it up with Melinda, too. We’ll definitely need to make it brunch and not breakfast, since Melinda still gets morning sickness.” She chewed her fingernail thoughtfully, then added, “Perhaps we could include Tatiana, as well, if you don’t mind.”


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