Troubled Waters (Montana Rescue Book #4) , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - May Warren Susan

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185 pages

English

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Description

Billionaire Ian Shaw can have everything he wants--except a happy ending. Or at least that's what it feels like with his fortune recently liquidated, his niece, Esme, still missing, and the woman he loves refusing to speak to him. In fact, he doubts she would date him even if they were stranded on a deserted island.Despite her love for Ian, Sierra Rose knows he has no room in his life for her as long as the mystery of his missing niece goes unsolved. The only problem is, Sierra has solved it, but a promise to Esme to keep her whereabouts secret has made it impossible to be around Ian.When the PEAK chopper is damaged and Sierra lacks the funds to repair it, Ian offers a fundraising junket for large donors on his yacht in the Caribbean. But the three-day excursion turns into a nightmare when a rogue wave cripples the yacht and sends the passengers overboard. Shaken up and soaked to the bone, Ian finally has a chance to test his theory when he and Sierra do indeed find themselves washed up on a strange, empty shore.It will take guts and gumption for the PEAK team to rescue the duo. But it will take a miracle to rescue Ian and Sierra's relationship.

Sujets

Adventure (Guyana)

Adventure

Romance

Informations

Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	02 janvier 2018
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781493412556
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	3 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0432€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
© 2018 by Susan May Warren
Published by Revell
a division of Baker Publishing Group
PO Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287
www.revellbooks.com
Ebook edition created 2018
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4934-1255-6
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Published in association with The Steve Laube Agency, 5025 N. Central Ave., #635, Phoenix, AZ 85012
Praise for the Montana Rescue Series
“The redemption and resolution is what makes Warren’s stories shine, and there’s plenty of that offered in this novel.”
— RT Book Reviews on Wild Montana Skies
“Warren nails it again, with sweeping Montana scenery, wilderness suspense, and oh-so-relatable romance.”
— Booklist on Wild Montana Skies
“ Wild Montana Skies will capture your heart from the opening pages and hold on tight until the final page turns.”
—TWJMag.com on Wild Montana Skies
“Warren has crafted a fast-moving, high-stakes romantic adventure set against the backdrop of Glacier National Park, which will leave longtime fans and new readers alike anticipating the next book in the series.”
— Publishers Weekly on Rescue Me
“With a mixture of romance, a bit of suspense and a high amount of mountaintop action-adventure, this book has everything that Warren’s readers have come to expect from her novels.”
— RT Book Reviews on Rescue Me
“Action, drama, adventure, flawed individuals, and emotional and spiritual challenges are hallmarks of Warren’s books.”
— Christian Library Journal on Rescue Me
“Everything about this story sparkles: snappy dialogue, high-flying action, and mountain scenery that beckons the reader to take up snowboarding.”
— Publishers Weekly on A Matter of Trust
Dedication
Soli Deo Gloria
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Endorsements
Dedication
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
Sneak Peek of the Next Montana Rescue Book
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Montana Rescue Novels by Susan May Warren
Back Ads
Back Cover
Prologue
Oh, this was a bad idea.
Epically, abysmally, horrendously bad. The kind of betrayal that just might end any hope of resurrecting Sierra’s already tattered relationship with her former boss/friend/the man she couldn’t seem to stop loving.
Billionaire heartbreaker Ian Shaw.
Not that she and Ian had much in the way of friendship over the past year, but . . . well, the hope of reigniting that ember between herself and Ian still flickered . . .
Oh, who was she kidding? Sierra never had even the remotest chance of Ian seeing her as anything more than his former secretary, and her current decision had everything to do with regret, redemption, and the hope of putting things right. So maybe it didn’t matter that this could backfire on her.
Besides, it was high time Esme Shaw came home. And if anyone could engineer a homecoming, it was Sierra Rose, former executive secretary and current administrative assistant of the PEAK rescue team.
Sierra stood on the broken pavement in front of a three-story foursquare house that had lived a former, grand life as a stately, prairie-style home, with its boxy frame, overhanging eaves, and deep front porch. Situated in the historic neighborhoods of uptown Minneapolis, it seemed the perfect place for a fugitive to hide.
Light from the third-story dormer windows suggested someone—hopefully Esme—was home.
Except, the name on the postal records said Shae Johnson, a nice Swedish name that Esme, with her wheat blonde hair and blue eyes, could certainly pull off.
Sierra stepped up to the porch, past the early autumn clutter of decaying gold and red leaves. She pressed her hand against her stomach, blew out a breath, and pushed the doorbell.
The sound bellowed through the house.
Sierra listened for footsteps, her heartbeat pounding against the dying echo of the gong.
Maybe she hadn’t recognized the tentative, halting voice on the recording. After all, she’d listened to nearly two hundred leads.
What were the chances that she would be the one to land Esme’s call—and not Ian, or even Ty, who had helped Ian sort through the nearly seven hundred calls that came in after the America’s Missing episode.
Ian had engineered the episode, detailing the case of the remains of a Jane Doe the team had found in Glacier National Park last summer. He clung to the wild hope that finding Jane’s true identity would somehow lead to clues about Esme. Especially since the sheriff had supposedly found a gold necklace like the one Esme owned on the body. Only problem was, the body turned out not to be Esme’s, and the whys of how the necklace came to be on the victim were still unknown.
It had Ian plotting scenarios that kept him awake, pacing and generally obsessing over finding his missing niece. Sierra couldn’t live in his world any longer.
Not when she believed in her heart that Esme didn’t want to be found.
At least not by her uncle Ian.
Footsteps echoed from inside the house, and Sierra braced herself as an image formed in the cut glass of the front door.
Maybe she shouldn’t have gotten involved, shouldn’t have succumbed to the need to fix the past.
Esme going missing had sort of, just a little, been Sierra’s fault. And she’d invested four long, dedicated years running down every lead Ian stirred up. Most of all, helping vet callers gave her, pitifully, the smidgen of a reason to stay on Ian’s radar. Or at least keep him on hers.
Despite the better sense that she should completely walk away from a man who had surely walked away from her.
Or at least let her go without a backward glance to her years of dedication.
The door opened.
A short brunette stood in the frame. She wore a maroon University of Minnesota sweatshirt and yoga pants and stood barefoot despite the nip of the late-August evening.
“Can I help you?”
Not Esme. She remembered Esme’s voice crackling through the recorded line, just a little breathless and tentative enough to interject truth into her words.
“Jane Doe was murdered. I saw it all. She was pushed to her death off . . . off Avalanche Creek.”
Which exactly matched the cause of Jane’s death—blunt force trauma. And the location of the remains.
And why, perhaps, Esme had run. Was still running.
“I’m looking for . . . Shae. Shae Johnson—”
“Sierra. What are you doing here?”
Although Sierra had wildly hoped to be right, that finally she’d be able to look into Esme’s beautiful blue eyes, pull her into her arms, maybe weep with relief, nothing prepared her for the sight of a grown-up Esme Shaw. With raven-black hair, a tattoo sneaking up the side of her neck, and rows of piercings outlining her ears.
She stood with one hand on the polished stair rail, wearing a pair of ripped skinny jeans and a tank under an oversized flannel shirt rolled up past her elbows. She wore her hair down, straight and pushed back behind those deeply studded ears.
Yet she still possessed stunning blue eyes.
Had it not been for those blue eyes, Sierra might not have recognized the woman she’d known as a headstrong, lovestruck teenager embroiled in a Romeo and Juliet romance so many years ago.
Only, in this scenario, Juliet had lived.
Esme headed down the stairs, glanced at her pixie friend, and grabbed Sierra by the hand. “You’d better come inside.”
She yanked Sierra across the threshold and closed the door behind her. And then, as her friend/roommate raised an eyebrow, Esme stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest. Considered Sierra.
Okay. So not quite the homecoming moment Sierra had imagined.
“Esme—”
“Shae, please.” She didn’t glance at her friend, who frowned. “Esme died a long time ago.”
“No, she didn’t,” Sierra said softly, and then, because she couldn’t help it, she put her arms around the girl.
Shae didn’t move to embrace her back. But she shook, her breath shuddering.
Sierra leaned back, took the girl by her shoulders, and met her eyes. “No one knows I’m here.”
Shae exhaled, but her face still bore a shade of question.
“Not even Ian.”
Shae nodded then and glanced at her roomie, who was clearly enthralled by the sudden mystery of the identity of the woman she knew as Shae. “This is my uncle’s secretary and my, um, friend. Sierra Rose.”
“Brittany Pierce,” said the woman and shook Sierra’s hand.
“We need to talk,” Sierra said to Shae when Brittany let her go.
“I gotta run,” Brittany said. “I have class. Shae, you coming?”
Shae’s gaze never left Sierra’s. “Nope. Tell the group I’ll meet them later.” She nodded up the stairs for Sierra to follow.
Four bedrooms upstairs, and Shae’s faced the tiny fenced-in backyard. A college student’s bedroom, evidenced by the books piled on the floor, a painted blue chair pulled up to the chipped table Shae clearly used as a desk, and on it, a laptop.
A comforter lay tousled on the twin bed, and another chair acted as a bedside table, complete with alarm clock and an iPhone. A black and white poster of Marilyn Monroe hung over the bed, and a lime-green painted chest of drawers anchored the far wall.
An eclectic mix of garage sale finds, creatively overhauled.
Shae pulled out the chair at the desk, offered it to Sierra, and sank onto the bed, pulling up her leg to embrace it. She wore black nail polish on her toes, her fingers.“How’d you find me?”
Sierra sank down on the chair. “Your phone call.”
“I didn’t leave my name.”
“Ian set up a system that traced the GPS location of the calls—”
“Isn’t that illegal?”
“Maybe,