Wild Heat (Northern Fire) Read Online Free PDF Page A

visible above the back of the seat.
    Was this the bride, and what in the hell was she doing in Nik’s truck without Nik?
    He looked beyond the truck to the open door of the bed-and-breakfast in time to see Nik coming out the door. Not the most affable of men, Tack’s friend looked even more pissed off with the world than usual.
    He stopped when he saw Tack. “What are you doing here?”
    “Eating with the Grant sisters. Is that your bride?” Tack tilted his head toward Nik’s truck.
    “Yes,” Nik bit off. “And the boy sleeping in the backseat is her son.”
    Shock coursed through Tack. “Her son?”
    “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting that news either.” With that, Nik yanked his door open and jumped into his truck. “Good luck with the Grant sisters, man. I’ve got my own woman troubles to deal with tonight.”
    He slammed it closed and then pulled out of the drive with a spray of gravel.
    Well, hell.
    He might have advised Nik against the whole mail-order bride thing, but that didn’t mean Tack didn’t want it to work out for the other man.
    Shaking his head, Tack climbed the front porch steps. From the way they squeaked, he decided they could use a little maintenance as well. He added that to his to-do list in his head. The sound of all three sisters talking at once led him to the front parlor, but his steps slowed as he heard another voice mixed in.
    *  *  *
    Soft feminine tones he would never forget still echoed in whispers as he woke from the kinds of dreams men were supposed to stop having once they’d left their teen years.
    Kitty Grant was here.
    Miss Elspeth had to have known Kitty was coming in today, but she hadn’t said so. She’d told him her niece was coming home, but Tack had thought that meant at some point in the future. Not today.
    Not right this minute when he wasn’t prepared for or expecting it.
    Nik’s words made more sense now too. The other man knew about Tack’s history with Kitty, so his words had been a warning, but damned if Tack hadn’t gotten it.
    He considered turning around and leaving, but his feet just kept moving forward as the sound of her voice grew more and more discernable and had its typical impact on his libido. It had been years, but hearing her voice still turned him on faster than a woman’s friendly hand on his thigh when he was in the mood to scratch that itch.
    His heart beating as fast as if he’d jogged a seven-mile trail uphill, he stopped in the open doorway to the parlor and got his first view of Kitty Grant.
    All the air expelled from his lungs and he couldn’t seem to suck any back in.
    He’d expected Kitty to look emaciated; after the research he’d done, he’d rehearsed in his mind how he wouldn’t react outwardly to her appearance when he finally saw her. He hadn’t prepared himself for the woman who stood before him. No, she didn’t have the same curvaceous allure she had six years ago, but even from the back, Kitty was still breath-stealing.
    She was thin, but her limbs didn’t have the fragile skeletal appearance from the previous winter that had so concerned Miss Elspeth, and her clothes fit over obvious feminine curves. Gratitude that he hadn’t had to come face-to-face with signs of her illness gave him the wherewithal to finally take in another breath.
    He didn’t ever have to admit it to anyone else (or acknowledge it to himself again if he could help it), but it would have destroyed something inside Tack to see her as sick as Miss Elspeth said Kitty had been.
    The female form he had always considered perfect was encased in a pastel pink suit that highlighted her understated curves. No doubt by some big-name designer, the jacket had a ruffle thing around her hips that accented the gentle slope of her ass. He liked it. The skirt hugged her hips, its hem a few inches above her knees, giving him a view of her toned legs.
    Her heels had to be at least three inches high. They looked neither comfortable nor suitable for life in