Heart of Ice
Authors: Diana Palmer
Can an isolated rancher fall for the one woman who thaws his heart? Find out in Diana Palmer’s beloved HEART OF ICE.
The last thing in the world romance novelist Katriane James wanted to do was spend her holiday with her roommate’s arrogant, infuriating brother. A rugged man like Egan Winthrop belonged in New York City about as much as she belonged out in the wilderness of his ranch.
But Egan’s powerful presence soon stripped Katriane of her defenses, and his offer of a visit to his Wyoming home was one she couldn’t refuse. Soon Katriane had lost her heart as completely as the heroines in her own stories. But how could she convince Egan that, unlike the women in her books, she had never yet been loved?
D
IANA
P
ALMER
New York Times
and
USA TODAY
Bestselling Author
HEART OF ICE
Dear Reader,
I really can’t express how flattered I am and also how grateful I am to Harlequin Books for releasing this collection of my published works. It came as a great surprise. I never think of myself as writing books that are collectible. In fact, there are days when I forget that writing is work at all. What I do for a living is so much fun that it never seems like a job. And since I reside in a small community, and my daily life is confined to such mundane things as feeding the wild birds and looking after my herb patch in the backyard, I feel rather unconnected from what many would think of as a glamorous profession.
But when I read my email, or when I get letters from readers, or when I go on signing trips to bookstores to meet all of you, I feel truly blessed. Over the past thirty years I have made lasting friendships with many of you. And quite frankly, most of you are like part of my family. You can’t imagine how much you enrich my life. Thank you so much.
I also need to extend thanks to my family (my husband, James, son, Blayne, daughter-in-law, Christina, and granddaughter, Selena Marie), to my best friend, Ann, to my readers, booksellers and the wonderful people at Harlequin Books—from my editor of many years, Tara, to all the other fine and talented people who make up our publishing house. Thanks to all of you for making this job and my private life so worth living.
Thank you for this tribute, Harlequin, and for putting up with me for thirty long years! Love to all of you.
Diana Palmer
Table of Contents
Chapter One
“Y
ou didn’t!” Katriane wailed at her best friend. “Not at Christmas!”
Ada looked pained and visibly shrank an inch. “Now, Kati…” she began placatingly, using the nickname she’d given the taller girl years ago. “It’s a huge apartment. Absolutely huge. And you and I will be going to parties all over town, and there’s the charity ball at the Thomsons’…It will be all right, you’ll see. You won’t even notice that he’s here.”
“I’ll notice,” Kati said shortly. Her reddish gold hair blazed in the ceiling light, and her brown eyes glared.
“It’s our first Christmas without Mother,” Ada tried again. “He’s got nobody but me.”
“You could go to the ranch for Christmas,” Kati suggested, hating the idea even as she said it.
“And leave you here alone? What kind of friend would I be then?”
“The kind who isn’t sticking me with her horrible brother during my one holiday a year!” came the hot reply. “I worked myself to the bone, researching that last book. I was taking a rest between contractual obligations…just Christmas. How can I rest with Egan here?”
“He’ll be fun to have around,” Ada suggested softly.
“We’ll kill each other!” Kati groaned. “Ada, why do you hate me? You know Egan and I don’t get along. We’ve never gotten along. For heaven’s sake, I can’t live under the same roof with your brother until Christmas! Have you forgotten what happened last time?”
Ada cleared her throat. “Look, you planned to set that next big historical in Wyoming, didn’t you, on a ranch? Who knows more about ranching in Wyoming than Egan? You could look upon it as an educational experience—research.”
Kati just glared.
“Deep down,” Ada observed, “you both probably really like each other. It’s just that you can’t…admit it.”
“Deep down,” her friend replied, “I hate him. Hate. As in to dislike intensely. As in to obsessively dislike.”
“That’s splitting an infinitive,” Ada pointed out.
“You are an actress, not an educator” came the sharp retort.
Ada sighed, looking small and dark and vulnerable. So unlike her elder brother. “I may wind up being an educator, at this rate,” she said. “I am sort of between jobs.”
“You’ll get another one,” Kati said easily. “I’ve never seen anyone with your talent. You got rave reviews in your last play.”
“Well, maybe something will turn up. But, getting back to Egan…”
“Must we?” Kati groaned. She turned, worrying the thick waves of her long hair irritatedly. “Don’t do this to me, Ada. Uninvite him.”
“I can’t. He’s already on the way.”
“Now?” Kati looked hunted. She threw up her hands. “First my royalty check gets lost in the mail when my car payment is due. Now I wind up with a sidewinder to spend Christmas with….”
“He’s my brother,” Ada said in a small voice. “He has no one. Not even a girlfriend.”
“Egan?” Two eyebrows went straight up. “Egan always has a girl friend. He’s never between women.”
“He is right now.”
“Did he go broke?” Kati asked with a sweet smile.
“Now, Kati, he’s not that bad to look at.”
That was true enough. Egan had a body most men
would envy. But his face was definitely not handsome. It was craggy and rough and uncompromising. Just like Egan. She could see those glittering silver eyes in her sleep sometimes, haunting her, accusing her—the way they had that last time. She hated Egan because he’d misjudged her so terribly. And because he’d never admitted it. Not then, or since.
She folded her arms over her breasts with a curt sigh. “Well, Mary Savage used to think he was Mr. America,” she conceded.
Ada eyed her closely. “He’s just a poor, lonely old cattleman. He can’t help it if women fall all over him.”
“Egan Winthrop, poor? Lonely?” Kati pursed her lips. “The old part sounds about right, though.”
“He’s thirty-four,” Ada reminded her. “Hardly in his dotage.”
“Sounds ancient to me,” Kati murmured, staring out over the jeweled night skyline of Manhattan.
“We’re both twenty-five.” Ada laughed. “Nine years isn’t so much.”
“Fudge.” She leaned her head against the cold windowpane. “He hates me, Ada,” she said after a minute, and felt the chill all up and down her body. “He’ll start a fight as sure as there’s a sun in the sky. He always starts something.”
“Yes, I know,” Ada confessed. She joined the taller woman at the window. “I don’t understand why you set him off. He’s usually the soul of chivalry with women.”
“I’ve seen him in action,” Kati said quietly. “You don’t have to tell me about that silky charm. But it’s all surface, Ada. Egan lets nobody close enough to wound.”
“For someone who’s been around him only a few times in recent years, and under the greatest pressure from me, you seem to know him awfully well,” Ada mumbled.
“I know his type,” she said shortly. “He’s a taker, not a giver.”
“Neither one of you ever gives an inch,” Ada remarked. She studied her friend closely. “But I had to invite him. He’s the only family I have.”
Kati sighed, feeling oddly guilty. She hugged the shorter girl impulsively. “I’m sorry. I’m being ratty and I don’t mean to. You’re my friend. Of course you can invite your awful brother for Christmas. I’ll grit my teeth and go dancing with Jack and pretend I love having him here. Okay?”
“That I’ll have to see to believe.”
Kati crossed her heart. “Honest.”
“Well, since that’s settled, how about if we go and get a Christmas tree?” Ada suggested brightly.
Kati laughed. “Super,” she said and grabbed up her coat to follow Ada out the door. “And if we get one big enough,” she mumbled under her breath, “maybe we can hang Egan from one of the limbs.”
They trudged through four tree lots before they found just the right tree. It was a six-foot Scotch pine, full and bushy and perfect for their apartment. They
stuffed it into the back of Kati’s Thunderbird and carried it home, along with boxes of ornaments and new tinsel to add to their three-year supply in the closet.
Ada went out to get a pizza while Kati tied ribbon through the bright balls and hung them lovingly on the tree. She turned on some Christmas music and tried not to think about Egan. It seemed so long ago that they’d had that horrible blowup….
It had been five years since Kati first set eyes on Egan Winthrop. She and Ada had met at school, where both were majoring in education. Ada had later switched to drama, and Kati had decided to study English while she broke into the fiction market in a small way. Three years ago, after graduation, they’d taken this apartment together.
Egan and Kati had been at odds almost from the first. Kati got her first glimpse of the tall rancher at school, when she and Ada were named to the college honors society in their junior year. Egan and Mrs. Winthrop had both come. Kati had no relatives, and Ada had quickly included her in family plans for an evening out afterward. Egan hadn’t liked that. From the first meeting of eyes, it had been war. He disapproved vehemently of Kati’s chosen profession, although he was careful not to let Ada or his mother see just how much he disliked Kati. They’d hardly spoken two words until that fateful summer when Kati had flown out to the ranch with Ada for the Fourth of July.
It had been the first year she’d roomed with Ada, almost three years ago. Ada’s mother had been diagnosed with cancer, and the family knew that despite the treatments, it would only be a matter of a year or two before she wouldn’t be with them. Everyone had gone to the Wyoming ranch for the July Fourth holidays—including Kati, because Ada refused to leave her alone in New York. Kati’s parents were middle-aged when she was born, and had died only a little apart just before she finished high school. She had cousins and uncles and aunts, but none of them would miss her during the July vacation. So, dreading Egan’s company, she’d put on a happy face and gone.
She couldn’t forget Egan’s face when he’d seen her getting off the plane with his sister. He hadn’t even bothered to disguise his distaste. Egan had a mistaken view of romance writers’ morals and assumed that Kati lived the wild life of her heroines. It wasn’t true, but it seemed to suit him to believe that it was. He gave her a chilly reception, his silvery eyes telling her that he wished she’d stayed in New York.
But his cousin Richard’s enthusiastic greeting more than made up for Egan’s rudeness. She was hugged and hugged and enthused over, and she ate it up. Richard was just her age, a dark-haired, dark-eyed architect with a bright future and a way with women. If he hadn’t been such a delightful flirt, the whole incident might have been avoided. But he had been, and it wasn’t.
