KISS AND TELL By Cherry Adair Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen "A SEXY, SNAPPY ROLLER-COASTER RIDE!" —SUSAN ANDERSEN, AUTHOR OF BABY, DON'T GO Kiss and Tell Cherry Adair A sassy, shameless romantic adventure about a man betrayed and the woman who rocks his untamed world… Marnie Wright has seen more than her fair share of testosterone, having grown up with four overprotective brothers. But now a longhaired mountain man named Jake Dolan has invaded a peaceful day of soul-searching at her grandmother's old cabin. Sure, she was trespassing on his private property, but did he have to pull a gun on her? After being stashed in his secret underground lair—complete with security monitors and a huge arsenal— Marnie realizes the guy is military, top secret military. Yet he also has the most beautiful mouth she has ever seen. The last thing Jake wants in his dangerous life is a woman. Doesn't like them. Doesn't need them. But a man would have to be dead not to fall for the sexy-as-sin Marnie Wright. But how could he have feelings for someone who may be killed just for being close to him? His days, after all, are numbered… Kiss and Tell Visit our Web site at www.ballantinebooks.com ISBN 0-449-00683-2 KISS AND TELL Cherry Adair IVY BOOKS • NEW YORK An Ivy Book Published by The Ballantine Publishing Group Copyright © 2000 by Cherry Adair Ivy Books and colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc. www.randomhouse.com ISBN 0-449-00683-2 Manufactured in the United States of America First Edition: September 2000 For the Ladies on board the BICC train— if friends were flowers, I'd pick you. For Rose Lerma, Susan Plunkett, Pamela Britton, and Jennifer Skullestad. For great memories, and lifelong friendships. You are the best. And always for my flyboy, David, with all my love. Chapter One ^ » The perimeter alarms were set to go off when anything heavier than a hundred pounds crossed the almost invisible breakers. At first all Jake saw on the monitor was the fawn-colored Great Dane. The damn thing was a mean-looking bastard and as big as a house. "Where the hell did you come from?" The dog's large, square head and pointy ears swiveled, as if it could smell him down here, twenty feet below ground level. Jake stuck his size fourteens up on the counter and took another swig of soda. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the flat-screen monitor before him. A second later his feet dropped to the floor at the same time his fist crushed the empty can. "Shit." The dog had been hiding her. For a split second… Jake absently touched the scar on his throat and ignored the from zero-to-eighty acceleration of his blood pressure. He leaned forward to adjust the focus and shifted closer to get a better look. A slender blonde, drowning in a green down jacket, sat not thirty feet from the front door of his cabin on the tree uprooted by last year's storm. Fair hair, all the colors of the sun and fingered by the breeze, danced in joyous spiral curls around her face and hunched shoulders as she concentrated on something in her lap. Her skin was fair instead of dusky, her hair silky, not coarse, the angle of her head unfamiliar. She was no ghost from the past. Thank God. Nevertheless, he didn't want her here. Jake didn't know who she was or what she was doing in the high, remote Sierras at the nose of winter. Her mere presence was suspect. Not that she appeared to be anything other than a cute blonde on a solitary mountain hike. But then looks could be deceiving. Neither the girl nor the dog was welcome. He didn't like dogs. In his line of work they tended to be unpredictable. As for the fluffy blonde… Jake slam-dunked the squashed can into the trash, then leaned forward for a better look. He definitely didn't like that breed, either. Closer inspection didn't improve her one bit. Unfortunately he hadn't had a woman in nearly a year, and this cupcake made his mouth water. Too bad. Like a mouse to an elephant, like David to Goliath. She was exactly the type of woman he avoided like the plague—petite, blonde, and delicate. He was bone exhausted from an assignment in a small, forgotten Middle Eastern country where all hell had broken loose. All he'd wanted to do was take a break. Instead he'd come home to find the shit hitting the fan, his sixteen-year career in the toilet, and the vacation he'd wanted being enforced. He had no time for the blonde outside. Most likely a strong "boo" would send girl and hound running for town. After they left he'd get back to figuring out who was screwing with his life. they left he'd get back to figuring out who was screwing with his life. Marnie Wright wished she'd brought along a warm cap. Cold air nipped at her ears, making them sting. Dismissing the discomfort, she focused on the sketch pad in her lap. It had been a bonus finding this old cottage tucked into the hillside. She'd hate to waste the light walking the mile back to her grandmother's cottage just because she was cold. She flipped up her collar and hunched her shoulders. Only the front walls and the peak of the shingled roof showed through the surrounding trees, shrubs, and piles of deadfall. It was in better shape than Grammy's. While rustic, the wood siding and front porch had recently been repaired. The roof appeared solid, the windows intact. Marnie flexed her fingers, narrowing her eyes at the log cabin before she continued drawing. The little house was perfect for the creepy Halloween story she was working on. All it needed was a little atmosphere. She shaded a curved whisper of smoke above the chimney, elongating dark shadows to make the small house unwelcoming and sinister. The fluid black lines of her charcoal pencil skimmed the page. Beside her, Duchess's head swiveled. "What're you listening to? A chipmunk?" Her dog made a low sound in her throat and wagged her tail. Marnie laughed, her breath misting in the frigid air. "Don't go far." She put her hand behind her pet's massive head and looked her sternly in the eye. "And don't play with it, you hear me?" Duchess bounded to the closed door of the empty cottage. She settled her backside on the front step, ears perked. Marnie smiled. Duchess loved her creature comforts. Rather than frolic about in the cold, she wanted inside. "That's not home, goofus. Give me a few more minutes and we'll pack up and go, okay?" She had lugged her sleeping bag and supplies to her grandmother's cottage before she and Duchess had taken a stroll, ending up at this isolated place. The exercise, and the cold, had made her hungry, too. She smelled rain and wanted to