Promise the Moon

Available in Print

The Grandees:

Scarred by his father's rejection, Garrett Montez prefers a life of solitude on the prosperous ranch he's built on land bequeathed him by his grandfather. When his housekeeper quits, he is desperate to find another, but not the beautiful woman with gentle eyes and a sweet smile who arrives on his doorstep. Neither his ranch nor his heart needs the kind of trouble she could cause.

With nowhere to go, Neely O'Conner must find a job, but handsome and rugged Garrett Montez rejects her the minute he lays eyes on her. More determined than ever, she offers to work for a month without pay, hoping time will change his mind.

Does a mysterious woman hold the key to Garrett's love, or can Neely crack through his iron-encased heart and…Promise the Moon?

Rating: Sensual Page Count: 344
Word Count 89900
Print ISBN: 1-60154-918-0

Excerpt:

”My mother, Elena Montez.”

Neely started at the deep masculine voice behind her. She whirled and looked into the eyes of a man at least two inches taller than Mr. Conway, a leather crop held in one big hand.

“She...she’s beautiful.”

Sable hair waved back from his wide forehead; gray dusted one temple where a scar sliced from hairline to chin. His wide shoulders were covered in an off-white shirt and a rough-out leather vest adorned with silver conchos glinting above a silver buckle. Fitted brown trousers hugged his muscled thighs.

Her first thought was that he was the handsomest man she had ever seen. Then she noticed his full lips, pressed together as if they didn’t smile with ease. When he started toward her with catlike grace, she fought the urge to flee.

“Garrett Montez.” He extended his hand. “Miss O’Conner?” he said, displeasure apparent.

“Ye...yes, Neely O’Conner,” she said, irritated at her shaky voice. Her cheeks flushed, and her hand felt burned clasped in his much larger one. A not unpleasant earthy smell of leather and horses surrounded him.

She had never thought of herself as a small woman, but looking up at Mr. Montez, she felt diminutive. This man bespoke power, and not just physically. As he released her hand, she lifted her chin and looked into eyes that were silver more than gray, and definitely not a mirror to his soul.

“So, you think you’re a housekeeper.”

Jutting her chin up a fraction more, she surprised herself when she retorted, “No, sir, I am a housekeeper.”

“You’re too young.”

“Must I be decrepit to qualify?”