Gabe (7 Brides for 7Brothers Book 2)
From New York Times andUSA Today bestsellingauthor RuthCardellocomes thesteamy newrelease, Gabe.
Meet the Brannigan brothers—sevensexy brothers whobringtheheartandtheheat!Frombestselling authors BarbaraFreethy,RuthCardello,Melody Anne,ChristieRidgway,LynnRayeHarris, Roxanne St. ClaireandJoAnnRoss comes abrandnewcontemporary romancefamilyseries: 7 Brides for 7 Brothers.Youwon’twanttomiss asingleone!
Gabe Brannigan is a Californianrealestatemogulwhois usedtoseeingproperty interms ofdollar signs. When his father dies unexpectedly andleaves him thefamily ranch,he’s annoyedrather than grateful. The conditions ofhis inheritanceincludelivingontheranchbeforebeingable to sell it.
He’s ready to walk away from thedealuntilhemeets thesexy,motorcycle-ridingranchcaretaker. She’s brash andoutspoken,rougharoundtheedges.Definitely nothis style,butthatdoesn’t stop him from wantingher.
Throwing all caution asideanddecidingtohaveher.
Josephine Ashby has foundtheperfectplacetohideuntilMr.Sexy Eyes shows upandannounces he is moving in.
A man who doesn’t believeinanything,finds himselfbelievinginher.
But will it be enough?
Grab the rest of theseries!
Hunter –Melody Anne
At the sound she spunaroundwithawrenchheldhighinonehand.Hergazerakedoverhim, narrowing with displeasure.Itwas aresponsehewasn’tusedtoinawoman.“This isprivate property,” she saidinafirm voice,stillholdingthewrenchas ifshemightcrack himinthe head with it if he steppedcloser.
“Is it?” All better retorts werelostas hetook inher full,glisteningbeauty.Shelookedlikeshewas in her mid-twenties. Longbrownhair was sweptupinalooseponytail,allowingdark tendrils to fall and frame her face.Oneofher arms was tattooedwiththefaceofadragon,which normally would havebeenaturnoff,buthewas intriguedby it.Dark browneyes glaredathim, while her chest heavedupanddownbeneathathin,whitetank topandbrathatdidnothingto conceal her response tohis perusal.A halfsmilecurledhis lips.Hewas oldenoughtoknowthat sexual chemistry didn’trequirecontextnor diditalways respectpersonalpreferences.Sometimes it was simplythereandthis timeitwas—stronger thanherememberedfeelingwithanyone for a very long time.Thefive-hour drivemightnothavebeenawasteoftimeafterall.
“Yes, so you can’t be here.Leaveyour name,though,andI’lltelltheowners youcameby.”
Who the hell is this beauty?“I’drather haveyour name.”
Her raised arm shook. “Mine?”
Her stall increased his curiosity,andhesteppedcloser.Heloweredhis voice.“Yes,yours.”
She glanced quickly to theleftthentherightandswore.“Listen,Idon’twanttohurtyou,butyouneed to leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Heinchedcloser,andhis breathingdeepenedlikeahuntersensinghis prey was about to bolt.Hewas mid-stepwhenshestruck,andwithaswiftmoveherecognized from his kick-boxingdays,shehookedhis anklewithhers andpulledhis footoutfrom beneath him. He fellforward,butrightedhimselfbeforehehittheground.
She used the advantage ofsurprisetoraceoutofhis reach.Heturnedintimetoseeherretrieve a 9mm Beretta from her toolbox.Inastanceprovingshewas nonovice,shepointedthe gun directly at him. “Yes,youare.Idon’twanttoshootyou,butIwillifIhaveto.”Sheclicked the safety off.
Her eyes glittered, her dark hair blewinthewindbehindher,andshewentfromatenonhishotness scale to an unbelievablefifteen.Damn.He’dnever beenintobondageorthoughtgivingcontrol over to a woman couldbesexy,buthewas willingtoexperimentwithitforatasteofher.He kept that thought to himselfbecauseshedidn’tlook likeshewas thinkingthesame.Hereferenced his suit and StefanoBemer loafers.“Easy,tiger.DoIlook likesomeoneyouneedtorun off with a gun?”
She assessed him over from headtotoeagain.“Yes.”
It was so easy to give in toher hunger andkiss him back withequalpassion.Shetoldherselfthat everything wrong withher lifewouldbewaitingfor her,butitdidn’tneedtodepriveherof this moment. No one gets hurtas longas Idon’tletitgotoofar.His hands dugintoherhair,cradling her as he deepenedthekiss.Sheslidher hands uphis barechest,knowingsheshouldpush him away, but unabletoforceherselfto.His skinwas warm andsmooth.His musclesflexed beneath her touch.Shefistedher hands againsthis chest.Desireandduty.Guiltandloneliness. Kissing him feltincredibleandgut-wrenchingly painfulatthesametime.
Nothing about her was easy,andthatwas partofwhathefoundexciting.“Iwon’thavetorestrain you.” He let her go.“You’llstay onyour ownvolition.”
She took a step back, lookinglikeshewas gaugingifshecouldmakeitinsidethehousebeforehim. “And why would I do that?”
He confidently pocketed his hands.Unlikeher,hehadnothingtolose.“RunandI’lltellthepolice everything. There’llbenowhereyoucanhideafter that.”
She searched his face. “Butyouwon’ttellthem ifIstay?” A blushspreadupherneck andacross her cheeks. “If you think I’llsleepwithyouinexchangeforyoursilence—”
“Whether or not you’d sleepwithmehas already beenanswered,butthat’s notwhatI’mofferingyou.” Yes, not calling thepoliceallowedfor thepossibility thathe’denduplockedinthetrunk ofhis car wondering why thehellhe’dlethis dick taketheleadinthis decision.His guttoldhimitwas worth the risk, and hewas rarely wrong.Exceptthetimehebrokehis arm.Hunterhadconvinced him that being depositedontopofamountainandhavingtoskiback tocivilizationwas better than staying ataresort.AndwhenHunter hadtalkedhimintogoingshark fishing.So, my instincts are fine; it’s Hunter’s thatwillgetmekilled.“Youwantsomeonetobelieveyou’re innocent? Convinceme.”
Ruth Cardello was borntheyoungestof11childreninasmallcity innorthernRhodeIsland.She spent her young adultyears movingas far away as shecouldfromherlargeextendedfamily. She lived in Boston,Paris,Orlando,NewYork--thencamefullcircleandmovedback toRhode Island. She now happily lives onetownover from theoneshewas bornin.Forher,family trumped the warmer weather andinternationalscene.
She was an educator for 20years,thelast11as akindergartenteacher.Whenherschooldistrict began cutting jobs,Ruthturnedaserious eyetowardher secondlove-writingandhasnever been happier. Whenshe's notwriting,youcanfindher chasingherchildrenaroundhersmall farm, riding her horses,or connectingwithher readers online.
Connect with the author:Website: www.RuthCardello.com
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