When the Rancher Came to Town (11 page)

Read When the Rancher Came to Town Online

Authors: Emma Cane

An Excerpt from

A French Kiss Novel

by Gwen Jones

In the fun and sexy follow-Âup to
Wanted: Wife
, French billionaire and CEO of Mercier Shipping Marcel Mercier puts his playboy lifestyle on hold to handle a PR nightmare in the US, but sparks fly when he meets the passionate captain of his newest shipÂ .Â .Â .

Penn's Landing Pier

Philadelphia

Independence Day, 5:32
AM

“
O
F
COURSE
I
realize he's your brother-Âin-Âlaw,” Dani said, grinning most maliciously as she dragged the chains across the deck to the mainmast. “In fact I'm counting on it as my express delivery system.” She wrapped a double length of chain around her waist. “My apologies for shamelessly exploiting you.”

“Seriously?” Julie laughed. “Trust me, I'll try not to feel compromised.”

“Like me,” Dani said, her hair as red as the bloody blister of a sun rising over the Delaware. She yanked another length of chain around the mast. “But what can
I
do. I'm just a
woman
.”

“And I'm just a media whore,” Julie said. “And a bastard is a bastard is a bastard.” She nodded to her cameraman, flexing her shoulders as she leveled her gaze into the lens. “How far would you go to save
your
job?”

Two days later

L'hÃ´tel Croisette Beach

Cannes

PINEAPPLE,
M
ARCEL
M
ERCIER
deduced, drifting awake under the noonday sun. A woman's scent was always the first thing he noticed, as in the subtle fragrance of her soap, her perfumed pulse points, the lingering vestiges of her shampoo.

Mon Dieu.
How he loved women.

“Marcel,” he heard, feeling a silky leg slide against his own.

He opened his eyes to his
objet d
'affection
for the past three days. “
BÃ©bÃ© .Â .Â .”
he growled, brushing his lips across hers as she curled into him.

“Marcel,
mon amour
,” she cooed, fairly beaming with joy.
“Tu m'as fait tellement heureuse
.
”

“What?” he said, nuzzling her neck. Her pineapple scent was driving him insane.

She slid her hand between his legs. “I
said
you've made me very happy.” Then she smiled. NoâÂ
beamed
.

He froze, mid-Ânibble. Oh no. Oh
no
.

She kissed him, her eyes bright. “I don't care what Paris saysâÂI'm wearing my
grand-ÂmÃ¨re
's Brussels lace to our wedding
.
You wouldn't mind, would you?”

He stared at her. Had he really gone and done what he swore he'd never do again? He really needed to lay off the absinthe cocktails. “Mirabel, I didn't mean toâÂ”

“Why did you leave me last night?” she said, falling back against the chaise, her bare breasts heaving above the tiny triangle of her string bikini bottom. “You left so fast the maids are still scrubbing scorch marks from the carpet.”

Merde.
He really ought to get his
dard
registered as a lethal weapon. He affected an immediate blitheness. “I had to take a call,” he saidâÂhis standard alibiâÂraking his gaze over her. She really was quite the babe. “I didn't want to wake you.”

All at once she went to full-Âblown
en garde
, shoving her face into his. “
Really
. More like you couldn't wait to get away from me. And after last night? After what you asked me?” Her enormous breasts rose, fell, her gaze slicing into his. “You said .Â .Â . You.
Loved. Me
.”

Had he?
Christ.
He needed to diffuse this. So he switched gears, summoning all his powers of seduction. “Mirabel.
ChÃ¨re.
” He smiledâÂlethally, he knewâÂcradling her chin as he nipped the corner of her mouth. “But that call turned into another, then three, and before you knew it .Â .Â .” He traced his finger over the bloom of her breasts and down into the sweet, sweet cavern between them, his tongue edging her lip until she shivered like an ingÃ©nue. “You know damn well there's only one way to wake a gorgeous girl like you.”

“You should've come back,” she said softly, a bit disarmed, though the edge still lingered in her voice. “You just should have.” She barely breathed it.

“How,
bÃ©bÃ©
?” He licked the hollow behind her ear, and when she jolted, Marcel nearly snickered in triumph. Watching women falling
for
him nearly outranked falling
into
them. “Should I have slipped under the door?” he said, feathering kisses across her jawline. “Or maybe climbed up the balcony, calling âJuliet? Juliet?' ”

She arched her neck and sighed, a deep blush staining her overripe breasts. Marcel fought a rush of disappointment. Truly, they were all so predictable. A bit of adulatory stroking and it was like they performed on cue. She pressed against his chest as he tugged the bikini string at her hip, her mouth opening in a tiny gasp.

“Mar-Â
cel
.Â .Â .” she purred.

He sighed inwardly. It was almost
too
easy
.
And that was the scary part.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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WHEN THE R
ANCHER CAME TO TOWN
. Copyright Â© 2014 by Gayle Kloecker Callen
.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-ÂAmerican Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-Âbook on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, decompiled, reverse-Âengineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperÂCollins e-Âbooks.

EPub Edition SEPTEMBER 2014 ISBN: 9780062369529

Print Edition ISBN: 9780062369536

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