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“Wyatt, I can’t…get involved.”
“Then don’t. Just kiss me now. No commitment and no promises.”
“Just like before.”
“No. Better. We’re both adults. Let’s see what it would be like for just this moment.”
“Oh, Wyatt,” she whispered. “Everyone always said you could sell ice to Eskimos.”
He smiled, dipped his head and kissed her slowly. Very slowly, savoring her soft lips and warm mouth that tasted of hot chocolate.
“Toni,” he whispered, but didn’t know what else to say. No promises, he reminded himself. They weren’t meant to be together forever, but maybe they were meant for each other now.
Dear Reader,
Happy holidays from my home in Texas to your place in the world. As I write this letter, I’ve just become a grandmother for the second time and I’m planning the last two books in my BRODY’S CROSSING series. The year stretches ahead, filled with promise and opportunities. I hope you feel the same during the Christmas season, regardless of which holidays you celebrate.
Both my hero and heroine have been mentioned in previous books and I just love both of them. Toni Casale is a strong career woman, beautiful and smart, doing well in a traditionally male occupation. Wyatt McCall is the type of man who has an insatiable zest for life, a high level of energy and enough boyish charm to make him the most popular man anywhere, even without his billions. Wyatt and Toni were an item all through high school, and everyone in Brody’s Crossing expected them to be together forever. He had other ideas, leaving for college right after graduation, and leaving Toni with questions and no answers.
Now Wyatt is back in town, making good on a fifteen-year-old sentence by the municipal court, resolving his past transgressions so he’ll be a good role model for the kids he’s trying to help with his new foundation. And taking another chance on his relationship with the only woman he’s ever loved. I hope you enjoy the time you spend with Wyatt, Toni and the rest of the Brody’s Crossing citizens during this very special season. Best wishes for a wonderful holiday and a happy 2009.
Victoria Chancellor
A Texan Returns
Victoria Chancellor
MILLS & BOON
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Victoria Chancellor married a visiting Texan in her home state of Kentucky thirty-five years ago, and has lived in the Lone Star State for thirty-two years, after a brief stay in Colorado. Her household includes her husband, four cats, a very spoiled miniature pinscher, an atrium full of tortoises, turtles and toads, and lots of visiting wild critters. Last year she was blessed with both a new son-in-law and a granddaughter. Her former careers include fine jewelry sales, military security and financial systems analysis. She would love to hear from you via her Web site, www.victoriachancellor.com, or P.O. Box 852125, Richardson, TX 75085-2125.
To my granddaughters, Lilly and Roxie.
Stay away from boys like Wild Wyatt McCall!
Contents
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
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter One
Monday, December 1, 2008
Wyatt McCall jammed his rented Hummer into Park in front of the Casale Remodeling offices. He stepped out of the vehicle and slammed the door. The sound was followed closely by the less forceful door-closing of his ever-present personal assistant’s assistant, Cassie. On the other side of the H2, his public-relations director, Louisa, exited the rear passenger seat. “You might want to wait outside,” he told the two women.
“No way,” Cassie said, hugging her lightweight suit jacket around her. “You could need us.”
“What, as witnesses to a murder?” he replied as he yanked open the front door. A large evergreen wreath adorned with a copper-colored wire mesh ribbon slapped against the glass inset and copper ribbons adorned with jingle bells jangled wildly as they bumped against the wooden door.
This building had been a small appliance store way back when he’d been a boy in Brody’s Crossing. Now the walls, the flooring and the door looked different. More classy and modern. Efficient, not fussy. Toni had put her stamp on everything.
Including him. But that was very old news.
“Um, maybe you should wait just a minute to compose yourself,” Louisa suggested.
“No way. I like my bad attitude.” He pulled back his leather jacket to slip his Oakleys into the collar of his sweater. After looking around to get his bearings, he followed the hallway past an empty conference room to what appeared to be Toni’s office.
“Hello, Wyatt,” she said before he could get after her for ratting him out to a reporter about his youthful transgression. His last one in a long history of acts of misbehavior in Brody’s Crossing.
She sat behind a modern design wood desk, her hands folded in front of her. By choice he’d only seen her a few times in the past fifteen years, on his rare visits to town, and always from a distance.
