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  • Format: ePub

Kate Leigh is having the worst year of her life. Everything is difficult and complicated and she's had enough. When she stands on the beach and calls out for someone to take her away, the last thing she expects is someone to act on it.
The men of Anwnn believe in soul mates. They take her call seriously. When Laird McLeod touches Kate he knows she belongs to him. Now, if she can only make her believe that.
Laird MacLeod looked up when he heard the soft scraping on the side of the wall. He'd arrived home and was standing on the patio as he did every evening, taking in a breath of the
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Produktbeschreibung
Kate Leigh is having the worst year of her life. Everything is difficult and complicated and she's had enough. When she stands on the beach and calls out for someone to take her away, the last thing she expects is someone to act on it.

The men of Anwnn believe in soul mates. They take her call seriously. When Laird McLeod touches Kate he knows she belongs to him. Now, if she can only make her believe that.

Laird MacLeod looked up when he heard the soft scraping on the side of the wall. He'd arrived home and was standing on the patio as he did every evening, taking in a breath of the pure, fresh air of Annwn.
"Interesting, not what I expected to see." His eyes traced over the struggling figure of the woman gripping the ornate iron trellis that stretched several yards along the back of the house, connecting the upper and lower floors. She was trying to climb down it from the first floor. He had done it many times as a child. It'd be easy for him. He heard her cursing softly. "But it doesn't appear so for her."
His aunt had sent a message to say there was a guest. He assumed it was a business associate or possibly a dignitary who were known to stop from time to time at the house. "Hmm, but this is no dignitary. And one who's wet? That's different." He pondered as his eyes focussed on the arse high above him. Her shorts clung to her plump backside like a second skin and her brown hair hung in limp dreadlocks down her back.
"And just who are you, Princess?" She didn't look like she was stealing the family silver, but what was she doing climbing down and not going through the front door like any normal person? As Laird was pondering this, she twisted awkwardly, her knee banging into the metal of the trellis. She let out a stream of softly muttered swear words that would make a hardened warrior blush. He smiled, growing more intrigued by the minute. "Uh-oh, she's going left." That was a bad move. His two large hounds were housed in a pen on that side. They were ferocious looking beasts known to send fear into the hardest man just by the look of them. In reality they would only lick a person to death. Laird started to move in that direction. The dogs started barking "Ah, they've seen her."
"Shush, you two," she told them. "If you don't rat me out, I'll come down and pat you."
The dogs barked in excitement. They understood the word 'pat.' They loved being touched. They want to play with her now. They barked even more.
"Damn it, slut dogs." She changed direction, going over where she had been to get away from the canines.
Laird followed her keeping his distance. Whatever she was doing and for whatever reasons, she was determined to keep going. He liked that in a woman.


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Autorenporträt
Amarinda Jones believes anything is possible and sometimes just asking for the impossible will surprise someone enough that they will give it to you. Writing is like that. Put it out there and wait for a response. There is always the possibility you may fall on your arse, but after all, that's what cellulite is for. Amarinda believes in taking chances, speaking her mind and aging disgracefully. Twenty years from now she plans on being the neighborhood witch that all the kids are scared of. But then, everyone has to have a hobby.