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    //-->Scandalous WomanAnnabelle WestonBook two in the Desert Heat trilogy.Carly Buchanan knows who and what she is. She’s the owner of the LonesomeSaloon, a bawdy place in the harsh West where any man can have his darkest desiresfulfilled—for a price. But life at a saloon isn’t easy. After hearing too much one night,Carly is caught in the middle of a deadly dispute. Now no-accounts are shooting up thestreets, good men are dying and no one will do a thing about it.Untilhecomes to town…Sheriff Jeddah Poole is lethally serious about cleaning up Tucson. But he can’t stopthinking of Carly’s bright eyes and passionate nature…or the way her lush curves feelpressed beneath him as he takes her again and again and again. In a town on the brink,caught in a divine passion they can’t escape, Jed and Carly have only each other to relyon. And only their love can help them survive.SCANDALOUSWOMANAnnabelle WestonDedicationTo Anna Kathryn Lanier, in appreciation of your leadership and friendship. And toC.H., who made sure I had time to write this book!AcknowledgementsAnnabelle wishes to thank her editor Carrie Jackson for her guidance,encouragement and support.Scandalous WomanChapter OneTucson, Arizona territory, 1882“Shh… You don’t wanna wake up the whore.”Carly Buchanan blinked, trying to sort out the hoarse whispering that swirled in hermuddled brain. Everything around her was hazy—evening shadows cast their patternsagainst the bare walls. She tried to raise herself on her elbows but gave up. Dizzinessmade the room spin.One thing she was certain of. She wasn’t alone. Two customers huddled at the endof her bed, one of them buttoning up his britches and pulling up his suspenders. Theirvoices had woken her from a nightmare.In the background, she could hear the sounds of a bawdy tune on a piano and folkssinging, clapping and stomping their feet. Glasses clinked together, followed byraucous laughter and shouts of “More!” These were all distinct sounds of the LonesomeSaloon. Her saloon.Her mouth was dry as cotton. She needed a shot of whiskey or a swig of Dr.Baxter’s, either one would do. She’d come to rely on Dr. Baxter’s Eight-Day Elixir toease her aches and pains. For sure, her whole body hurt especially her honey pot. Thestrong scent of blood, sex, sweat and semen soured the air.What had happened? The memory was too far away. She didn’t coax it to thepresent. What did it matter? All she cared about was the men had been satisfied.She shifted her gaze to the side table. The bottle of Dr. Baxter’s Elixir was therewithin easy reach. Her arms were too heavy to lift. She tried to summon some energy inthe lumpy bed with the satin coverlet an old lover had given her. She shivered. Shewasn’t sure if it was from being buck-naked or from the presence of two men.What had they said?You don’t wanna wake up the whore.Neither one looked at her. They appeared to be having such an intense conversationthey hadn’t heard her stir. The one who hadn’t yet buttoned the back flap of his unionsuit, his freckled ass facing her gestured in wide circles. With every wave of his arm shecaught the pungent scent of his body odor. The other had finished putting on hisclothes. He kept fingering the six-shooter hanging on his hip—a different kind of luststirring his blood.“Let’s go get him.” His laugh was deep and raspy. Cold-blooded.Carly stiffened. She didn’t tolerate any fighting in her establishment.“He’ll be easy to find. Heard the ranch isn’t far from town.”When she realized they weren’t talking about the Lonesome, she breathed easier.5 [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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