Stormbound With A Tycoon

Jessica McGuire Didn’t Know

How Long She Had Been Sleeping

when something nudged her awake. She managed to open one eye enough to see the morning light of a stormy dawn and know that it was still raining. Then a strong arm curled around her waist, jolting her into full wakefulness.

A body snuggled up against hers—a naked body that was unmistakably male.

A strange, naked, male body.

In her bed.

“Ms. Delacorte provides plenty of sparks to please romance fans.”

—Romantic Times Magazine

Dear Reader,

Welcome to the world of Silhouette Desire, where you can indulge yourself every month with romances that can only be described as passionate, powerful and provocative!

The incomparable Diana Palmer heads the Desire lineup for March. The Winter Soldier is a continuation of the author’s popular cross-line miniseries, SOLDIERS OF FORTUNE. We’re sure you’ll enjoy this tale of a jaded hero who offers protection in the form of a marriage of convenience to a beautiful woman in jeopardy.

Bestselling author Leanne Banks offers you March’s MAN OF THE MONTH, a tempting Millionaire Husband, book two of her seductive miniseries MILLION DOLLAR MEN. The exciting Desire continuity series TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB: LONE STAR JEWELS continues with Lone Star Knight by Cindy Gerard, in which a lady of royal lineage finds love with a rugged Texas cattle baron.

The M.D. Courts His Nurse as Meagan McKinney’s miniseries MATCHED IN MONTANA returns to Desire. And a single-dad rancher falls for the sexy horsetrainer he unexpectly hires in Kathie DeNosky’s The Rough and Ready Rancher. To cap off the month, Shawna Delacorte writes a torrid tale of being Stormbound with a Tycoon.

So make some special time for yourself this month, and read all six of these tantalizing Silhouette Desires!

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

Stormbound with a Tycoon

Shawna Delacorte

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SHAWNA DELACORTE

has delayed her move to Washington State, staying in the Midwest in order to spend some additional time with family. She still travels as often as time permits, and is looking forward to visiting several new places during the upcoming year while continuing to devote herself to writing full-time. Shawna would appreciate hearing from her readers. She can be reached at 6505 E. Central, Box #300, Wichita, KS 67206-1924.

For Thom—Jeopardy isn’t the same anymore.

We all miss you.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

One

Jessica McGuire did not know how long she had been sleeping when something nudged her awake. She managed to open one eye enough to see the morning light of a stormy dawn and know that it was still raining. Then a strong arm curled around her waist, jolting her into full wakefulness. A body snuggled up against hers—a naked body that was unmistakably male.

She froze. A quick rush of fear shot through her. Her heartbeat lodged in her throat. Then an adrenaline surge spurred her into action. She scrambled out of bed and grabbed her oversize T-shirt, hurriedly pulling it on as she started toward the bedroom door. A glance back toward her bed produced a sigh of relief and brought her to a halt. Even though most of his face was hidden from sight, it was obvious that the stranger in her bed was asleep.

Jessica furrowed her brow in confusion, pursed her lips and cautiously walked over to the side of the bed. She stared at the stranger, trying to get a clear look at his face. Something about him seemed very familiar. She knew him…yet she didn’t. Either way, he did not seem to be an immediate threat to her safety.

She tried the light switch. The power was still out, just as it had been last night when she arrived. Power outages were a common occurrence in that part of the Olympic Peninsula whenever a storm swept in from the Pacific Ocean, so the lack of electricity had not been of any concern to her. Besides, she had been just too tired to care as she made her way through the living room of the darkened cabin and climbed the stairs to her bedroom. She had undressed, dropped her clothes on the floor, and collapsed into bed, falling asleep the second her head hit the pillow.

This morning, however, was a different story. She shot a wary glance at the sleeping man in her bed, then turned to pick up the rest of her clothes from the floor. She fully intended to wake this stranger and evict him from her cabin…as soon as she was dressed.

Jessica picked up the last item of clothing and turned to go downstairs to the bathroom as quietly as she could. A gasp caught in her throat as the shock spread through her. The stranger sleeping in her bed was now awake and staring at her. She swallowed hard at the realization that this handsome, sexy man was the naked body that had been snuggled next to her.

The blankets had slipped down to his hips, revealing a strong, athletic build. His dark, tousled hair was matted down on one side where his head had rested against the pillow. Even with the dim, early-morning light she could not miss the mischievous twinkle in his green eyes as he blatantly looked her up and down.

The commotion had forced him awake. He had been in the middle of a tantalizing dream about a warm feminine body nestled next to his with his hand gliding across silky smooth skin. It had all seemed so real and he was not happy about the interruption. He slowly opened his eyes. The sight that greeted him matched his dream in all respects. His gaze started at the floor and climbed up a pair of sleek bare legs to the point where they extended from the bottom of an oversize shirt.

He shifted his attention to the way the shirt clung to her hips and caressed the curves of her breasts. He turned on his side, propped himself up on his elbow and took in the entire woman. She stood about five-six. The disarray of her short blond hair gave her a sexy, wildly uninhibited look. The strong family resemblance told him she was Jessica McGuire…his best friend’s sister. She had certainly changed since he last saw her many years ago. This was definitely not that awkward teenager.

He made no effort to hide his appreciation of what he was seeing. The thick remnants of sleep gave his voice a husky quality. “Well…well…well…little Jessica McGuire. You’ve certainly grown up since I last saw you.”

“Dylan?” Her mouth fell open as the full shock of his identity hit her. “Dylan Russell? Is that really you?”

“In the flesh.” He peeked beneath the blanket that still covered the lower portion of his body, then shot her a decidedly wicked grin. “And I do mean literally in the flesh.”

The heat of embarrassment spread across Jessica’s face. She prided herself on being a self-sufficient, responsible woman who worked hard and maintained a stable life. Waking up to find a naked man in her bed certainly was not part of that life. She attempted to cover her thinly clad body by holding the rest of her clothes in front of her. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she detected a chuckle coming from his direction. A jab of irritation poked at her followed by disgust. He certainly didn’t seem to have any concerns about his state of undress or the fact that he’d woken up to find a woman in bed with him. It was almost as if he was enjoying her discomfort.

She tried to bring some composure to the moment, but could not quell her annoyance or keep it out of her voice. “You seem to find this situation amusing.”

He laughed—the type of sexy laugh that could immediately heat any woman’s desires while melting her resolve. “Don’t you?”

“No, I don’t find it amusing…or charming or cute. How did you get here? There wasn’t any car outside when I arrived. How did you get in the cabin? The door was locked.”

“All questions easily answered.” He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. “You apparently didn’t try to put your car in the garage, otherwise you would have seen my car.”

“No, I parked as close to the front door as possible so I wouldn’t have to run through the rain between the garage and the cabin. But that doesn’t explain how you got inside.”

“I have a key.”

“A key?” As mature, adult and blasé as she tried to be, she couldn’t hide her surprise or confusion. “Where did you get a key?”

“Justin gave it to me when he said I could use the cabin for a couple of weeks.”

Her tenuous control over the situation began slipping away…assuming she had ever possessed any control over what was happening. Bewilderment replaced confidence as she became less sure of her ground. “Justin offered you the use of our cabin? He didn’t say anything to me about it.”

An uncomfortable shiver washed across her skin. Dylan seemed to be studying her. He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. “Maybe that’s because he thought you were going to be in New York for three weeks.”

“Oh…right.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “New York.” He was correct. New York was exactly where she was supposed to be, not at a mountain cabin on the other side of the country. In fact, it was where she had been until the previous morning when she caught a flight back to Seattle after her work project had been postponed.

She pulled her composure together and reasserted her control. “I suggest we put this conversation on hold for a little while. I need to get dressed and you need to get out of my bed…uh, my bedroom…since it’s obvious that you can’t continue to stay here.”

He eyed her curiously, making no effort to retrieve any clothes. In fact, he snuggled more comfortably into the bed and pulled the blankets up across his chest. “And why not?”

“Why not?” Had she heard him correctly? Was he actually questioning her decision? “I thought that would have been obvious. Because I’m not in New York and you’re in my bed—that’s why not.”

“I took the first bedroom I came to.”

“This one is mine. The other one is Justin’s.”

He adopted a businesslike attitude. “You’re right. We do need to put this conversation on hold for a while—” he flashed her a teasing grin “—at least until I’ve had some coffee.” He started to lean across the bed and grab his jeans from the arm of the chair, then paused as he glanced in her direction. “Would you mind turning your back so I can put on my pants…or do you prefer to just stand there clutching your clothes in front of you?”

“It’s my bedroom…you’re the one who should…I mean…” She saw the expression dart across his face, the one that said he was about to pull back the covers and get out of bed. “I didn’t mean—”

The heat of embarrassment burned across her cheeks. She whirled around and hurried out the door, her clothes clutched tightly against her body. The amused chuckle followed her down the stairs and into the bathroom. She closed out the sound by shutting the bathroom door.

Jessica pulled back the shower curtain, sat on the edge of the bathtub and closed her eyes. She did not know whether to be angry at his intrusion or amused by his audacity. Her annoyance surfaced. He had certainly gone out of his way to embarrass her. And this wasn’t the first time, either. Her thoughts drifted back to the time when she was sixteen years old.

Justin had brought Dylan home with him during a school break. Unlike the previous year when the awkward fifteen-year-old Jessica had developed a huge crush on Dylan and had tried all weekend without success to get his attention, the sixteen-year-old Jessica had basked in his attentiveness. Dylan had played cards with her, talked to her and then asked her if she wanted to go out to lunch. He had even bought her a stuffed bear to add to her collection. Obviously, he liked her very much, hopefully as much as she liked him.

She had dressed in her most sophisticated outfit, put on extra makeup and did her hair up on top of her head, all to show him she was mature enough to date a twenty-year-old college man. But when it came time for lunch, she had been devastated to find that it was not the date she’d thought it would be. It was a group lunch of nearly a dozen people and she was the only one who had dressed up. The worst part was that Dylan had brought a date with him.

She had been humiliated and embarrassed. She had never forgotten the incident, even though, in retrospect, she realized he had done nothing to lead her on and was only being polite in trying to include her with the group. She had heard what she’d wanted to hear rather than what Dylan had actually said or meant, but it had still been an emotionally traumatic incident that she had never forgotten.

But that was ancient history. She was now a mature, intelligent woman of thirty-one, not the type to be easily swayed by a handsome man with thick, dark hair, emerald-green eyes, a dazzling smile…and danger written all over him.

She pursed her lips and wrinkled her brow into a slight scowl. From what her brother had told her of Dylan Russell’s lifestyle, finding a woman in his bed was certainly not an unusual occurrence. Her scowl turned to contemplation. What was Dylan Russell doing there? He was not the type of man who would hide away in an isolated mountain cabin and certainly not without the benefit of feminine companionship. Everything she had ever heard about him said he was a charming rogue, a personable scoundrel who drifted from one quick-buck deal to another and one bed to another, without any roots, commitments or responsibilities.

Her contemplation turned to confusion. He was a globe-trotting playboy who would surely feel more comfortable in a luxury resort with a hot tub and room service. So what was he doing by himself in her cabin? Then another thought struck her. Could he be expecting someone to meet him there? A woman? The quick jab of anger caught her by surprise. She immediately shoved it away. His personal life was none of her business.

Even though she had always found her brother’s stories about Dylan to be fascinating, she knew no good would come from pursuing an interest in that sort of man regardless of how sexy and exciting she found him. And Dylan Russell certainly ranked at the top of any list of sexy and exciting men. She knew from experience that his type was all outward flash without any real substance underneath. She had been married to a handsome man with a roving eye and little concern about whose bed he frequented. She had no desire to travel down that path again. She dismissed the errant thoughts. Right now she needed to get dressed.

Jessica was not the only one contemplating the events of the past few minutes.

Dylan stared out the bedroom door toward the steps leading down to the living room. His teasing banter with Jessica had turned out to be far more interesting than he would have imagined. In fact, Jessica was far more interesting than he would have imagined. Justin painted his sister as an organized, no-nonsense type of person who knew what she wanted out of life and had her feet firmly planted on the ground—certainly not the type of woman he was accustomed to dating. What Justin failed to mention was that his sister was also drop-dead gorgeous with a body that would not quit.

Exactly where had Jessica McGuire been three months ago when he needed someone just like her? When everything turned sour and his life started falling apart? He shook his head and reminded himself that she was his best friend’s sister. He was not sure exactly what that meant, but the cautionary thought popped into his head. He could not consider this beautiful, intelligent woman who knew who she was and where she was going in life as another potential bed-mate.

Dylan took a deep breath, then slowly expelled it. He tried to clear his mind of the wayward thoughts, but he could not clear away the memory of her body snuggled next to his and his hand sliding across her silky skin. Nor could he erase the sight of her standing next to the bed, her mussed hair and scantily clad body giving her a look of sexy, uninhibited abandon. A tightness pulled across his chest. He took another deep breath in hopes of breaking the restrictive feeling, then threw back the covers, climbed out of bed, dressed and headed toward the stairs.

Dylan stopped short at the bottom step. He could see Jessica through the kitchen door. A scowl marred her otherwise beautiful face. She seemed to be staring at something. He entered the kitchen, walked up behind her and peered over her shoulder in an attempt to see what had captured her attention and caused her to frown like that.

“Is something wrong?”

The sound of his voice startled her. She jerked around and found her face almost touching his. For a long moment she looked up into the intensity of his green eyes, or more accurately, he seemed to be pulling her into the depth of those eyes as he searched her face for some sort of explanation.

“Uh—” she took a couple of steps away from his uncomfortable nearness “—wrong?”

“You were scowling at the stove. Is there something wrong?”

She took yet another step farther away from his disconcerting presence, coming to a halt when she bumped into the kitchen counter. Her voice held the same uncertainty that coursed through her veins. “Wrong?” She knew she sounded like an idiot, parroting the same word over and over. She gathered her composure and projected as much confidence as she could muster, but she couldn’t quell the disturbing sensations playing havoc in her stomach.

“There isn’t any gas…the stove burner won’t light, there’s no hot water and the floor furnace in the living room won’t light. There must be something wrong with the propane tank.”

“I didn’t use any hot water and didn’t even try to turn on the furnace or the stove when I arrived last night. I went right to bed. I was going to read for a while, but then the storm knocked the electricity out.”

“The tank shouldn’t have been turned off. It was just filled a week ago and was supposed to have been left on.” She glanced toward the window, then looked up at the ceiling and the sound of the rain pounding against the roof.

An exasperated sigh accompanied her words.

“Damn…there doesn’t seem to be any way to avoid going out into the rain to see what’s wrong.”

“Where is the propane tank?”

“It’s behind the garage.”

Dylan glanced out the window. “It’s raining pretty hard. I’ll go out and check it. You stay inside where it’s dry.”

“Forget it.” She snapped out the words. “I’m capable of taking care of it myself.”

“Whoa…” A slight edge of irritation crept into his voice. “I didn’t say you weren’t capable. I merely offered to help.”

Jessica grabbed a jacket from the coatrack by the front door. “You weren’t offering to help, you were telling me what to do.” She shoved her arms into the sleeves, turned up the collar, then opened the front door.

She paused long enough to shoot a contemptuous look in his direction. “I don’t need your help.” Then she stepped out onto the porch prepared to brave the elements.

She bit at her lower lip in a moment of contemplation. Perhaps she had been a little harsh with her comments. He really hadn’t said anything wrong. She clenched her jaw in determination. Dylan Russell had totally unnerved her and she didn’t like it. She hunched her shoulders against the chilly air and ran out into the rain.

Dylan stared after her, his annoyance overriding her show of irritation. She had literally dismissed him as if he had made some sort of disparaging comment rather than a sincere offer of help. He was not accustomed to being treated in that manner, especially by a beautiful woman. He allowed a brief instant of reflection. Of course, he wasn’t accustomed to dealing with independent, self-sufficient women who would even know what a propane tank was let alone what to do with one.

He followed her out into the rain, catching up with her just as she rounded the corner of the garage. He stood by as she bent down and checked the gauge on the tank, then made sure the connection was tight. She glanced up at him, raising her hand to shield her eyes from the rain. “The valve’s closed. The tank has been shut off.”

She opened the valve to start the flow of propane to the cabin, then she straightened up and took a couple of steps forward until he blocked her way. They stood very close together, almost as close as when they had been in the kitchen.

The tightness spread across his chest again as he stared at her. The rain matted her hair against her head. Rivulets of water ran down her face and formed her long, dark eyelashes into spiky clumps. He started to reach out and touch her, but managed to resist the urge. He wanted to wipe the water from her cheek and kiss away the droplets from her all-too-tempting lips. It was the kind of delicious-looking mouth that would drive any man to distraction. He forced down the desire and reluctantly stepped aside.

She remained rooted to the spot, unable to move. Every fiber of her being screamed out for the physical contact that was almost there but not quite. She swallowed down the lump lodged in her throat and tried to still her racing pulse. She finally managed, with difficulty, to break away from the invisible hook pulling her into the realm of his masculinity. She broke into a run, quickly covering the ground back to the cabin.

He followed closely behind. When they reached the covered porch she removed her rain-soaked jacket and shook off the excess water, then pulled off her muddy boots and left them on the porch before going inside. Dylan followed suit by kicking off his shoes, too. Once inside she hung her jacket on the coatrack to dry.

He pulled his wet sweatshirt off over his head, revealing a wet T-shirt. She tried not to stare at the way it clung to the well-defined planes of his hard body, but her attempts were useless. Her breathing quickened and, much to her dismay, her pulse started to race again. Somehow she had to put a stop to the physical effect he had on her.

He hooked the sweatshirt over the doorknob, then ran his fingers through his wet hair before turning toward her. “I guess that answers the question about the heat and hot water. Where do you keep the matches?” He glanced around the large open expanse of the cabin’s living room and dining room, then toward the kitchen door. “In the kitchen?”

She forced a calm to the inner turmoil running rampant through her body, at least enough to hopefully fool him with a neutral outer manner. “The propane company must have turned the tank off when they filled it last week, then forgot to turn it back on.”

She retrieved the matches from the fireplace mantel. “It’s lucky for you I showed up when I did to fix things.” Her thoughts had slipped out without her meaning to say them aloud.

He bristled at her words. “Turning on a propane tank and putting a match to some pilot lights is not beyond my capabilities.”

The heat of embarrassment spread across her cheeks. What was wrong with her? She didn’t seem to be able to stop herself from taking a cheap shot at him. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

A sharp edge of sarcasm surrounded his words. “Since you obviously have everything well under control, I’ll leave the work to you to finish. I’ll take this opportunity to get out of these wet clothes. If you’ll excuse me—” He turned and walked away from her.

Jessica watched as he climbed the steps. This man that she remembered as being larger than life had suddenly been reduced in stature to that of the ordinary guy next door wearing wet clothes and dripping water on the floor. Well, perhaps ordinary was not the correct word. There was nothing ordinary about Dylan Russell, nor about the surprisingly unsettled effect he had on her. As if to reinforce her thoughts and feelings, a little tremor darted through her body letting her know she was not as in control as she hoped.