The Wildcatter
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Оглавление
Peggy Nicholson. The Wildcatter
“I…”
The Wildcatter. Peggy Nicholson
DEDICATION
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
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 SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Отрывок из книги
He fingered one swelling rosebud—leaned to adore it with tongue and mouth, felt her heart thundering against his cradling palm. Ah, marry me, Risa, and we’ll do this every night of our lives! He raised his head to replace his lips with his coaxing fingers. Perhaps it was male instinct that would brook no denial. He would have her surrender. “Say yes!” he demanded, his voice husky with emotion. “Only leap, Risa-Sonrisa, and I will catch you!”
“Truly?” She flattened a hand against his heart. “¿De veras? You really want me?”
.....
“By December I was just getting over being homesick,” she protested, laughing as she patted his wiry forearm. “I didn’t dare risk stirring it up again. Another round would have killed me. That was before I met— Oh!”
She glanced around at her driver, then knelt on the edge of her seat so he could see past her. “Joe, this is Eric Foster, my…” The color rose in her heart-shaped face and she tipped up her chin as if she expected resistance—and likely she’d had a wagonload of that already. “My fiancé. We’re engaged.” She presented her left hand for Joe’s inspection, slender fingers arching in one of those graceful girly gestures that a man couldn’t have made in a thousand years.
.....