A Man Apart

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Authors: Joan Hohl

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“Decadent,” He Pronounced. “Delicious.”

Once again, Justin's low, ultrasensual tones sent an unfamiliar, unwanted and unappreciated chill down Hannah's already-quivering spine. At the same time, the spark of teasing devilment in his eyes caused a strange, melting heat deep inside her.

Hannah resented the sensation, but to her chagrin, she felt every bit as attracted to Justin as she was wary of him. All he had to do was look at her to make her, in a word, sizzle.

Dammit.

It had been a long time since Hannah had warmed to a man and she had certainly never
sizzled
for one. But innate honesty compelled her to admit to herself that she did indeed sizzle for Justin.

And she didn't like it at all.

Dear Reader,

Welcome to another scintillating month of passionate reads. Silhouette Desire has a fabulous lineup of books, beginning with
Society-Page Seduction
by Maureen Child, the newest title in DYNASTIES: THE ASHTONS. You'll love the surprises this dynamic family has in store for you…and each other. And welcome back
New York Times
bestselling author Joan Hohl, who returns to Desire with the long-awaited
A Man Apart,
the story of Mitch Grainger—a man we guarantee won't be alone for long!

The wonderful Dixie Browning concludes her DIVAS WHO DISH series with the highly provocative
Her Fifth Husband?
(Don't you want to know what happened to grooms one through four?) Cait London is back with another title in her HEARTBREAKERS series, with
Total Package
. The wonderful Anna DePalo gives us an alpha male to die for, in
Under the Tycoon's Protection.
And finally, we're proud to introduce author Juliet Burns as she makes her publishing debut with
High-Stakes Passion.

Here's hoping you enjoy all that Silhouette Desire has to offer you…this month and all the months to come!

Best,

Melissa Jeglinski
Senior Editor
Silhouette Desire

JOAN HOHL
A MAN APART

Books by Joan Hohl

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Silhouette Books

†
Wolfe Winter

Silhouette Summer Sizzlers
1988

“Grand Illusion”

Silhouette Christmas Stories
1993

“Holiday Homecoming”

Silhouette Summer Sizzlers
1996

“Gone Fishing”

JOAN HOHL

is the
New York Times
bestselling author of over forty books. She has received numerous awards for her work, including the Romance Writers of America's Golden Medallion award. In addition to contemporary romance, this prolific author also writes historical and time-travel romances. Joan lives in eastern Pennsylvania with her husband and family.

Melissa & Tara
Gee, it's good to be back home again.

One

J
ustin Grainger was a man apart—and he liked it that way. He was content with his life. Possessing a nearly uncanny affinity for horses, he was satisfied with his work of running his isolated horse ranch in Montana.

But Justin was not a hermit or even a true loner. He enjoyed the easy camaraderie shared with his ranch hands and his foreman, Ben Daniels. And though Justin had never again wanted a woman on the property, since his failed marriage five years before, he had accepted the presence of Ben's new
young wife, Karla. She had been the former personal assistant to Justin's brother, Mitch, who managed the family-owned gambling casino in Deadwood, South Dakota.

Justin had other family members he occasionally visited. His parents, retired now in Sedona, Arizona, were both still healthy and socially active. His sister, Beth, as yet unmarried, was off doing her fashion thing in San Francisco. And his eldest brother, Adam, headed up various family businesses from their corporate offices in Casper, Wyoming.

Adam was married to a lovely woman named Sunny, whom Justin had set out to tolerate in the name of family unity and had quickly come to admire, respect and love almost as much as his own sister. Adam and Sunny had a baby daughter, Becky, whom Justin quite simply adored.

On occasion Justin even spent recreational time with an accommodating woman—no strings attached. And that suited him fine. He claimed that horses were much easier to deal with, less contentious and argumentative, thus easier to talk to and get along with.

Although, these days, after a long, hot work-filled summer, a busy autumn, and winter just settling in, Justin was a bit restless and didn't grumble
too much when he received an urgent and demanding phone call from Mitch the week before Christmas.

“I need you to come to Deadwood,” Mitch said, in his usual straightforward way.

“Yeah? Why?” Justin replied, in his usual dry, less-than-impressed manner.

“I'm getting married, and I want you to be my best man,” Mitch shot back. “That's why.”

As an attention getter, his brother's explanation was a winner, Justin conceded…to himself. He never had conceded much of anything—except absolute loyalty and devotion—to any one of his siblings.

“When did you lose it, Mitch?” he asked in soft tones of commiseration.

“Lose what?” Mitch sounded slightly baffled.

Justin grinned. “Your mind, old son. You must have lost it if you're going to take the marital plunge.”

“I haven't lost my mind…old son,” Mitch retorted, a trace of amusement undermining his rough voice. “Trite as it might sound, it's my heart I've lost.”

There was no way Justin could let his brother's remark pass without comment. “No ‘might' about
it,” he drawled, enjoying himself. “That is trite. Sappy, too.”

Mitch laughed. “I don't know what to tell you, bro,” he said, suddenly dead serious. “I'm way deep in love with her.”

Oh, yeah, Justin thought, hearing the heartfelt note in his brother's voice. Mitch was seriously serious. “It's Maggie Reynolds. Right?”

“Yes…of course.”

Of course. Justin wasn't surprised, not really. A faint smile tugged at his lips. In fact, after all the rave reviews he'd heard from Mitch about Ms. Reynolds ever since she'd replaced Karla as his personal assistant, Justin should have been expecting the marriage announcement.

“Well?”

Mitch's impatient voice sliced across Justin's thoughts. “Well what?” he asked.

Mitch sighed loudly, and Justin managed to contain a burst of laughter.

“Will you be best man at my wedding?”

“Might as well,” Justin drawled. “Why change the status quo now…as I always was the best man, anyway.”

“In your dreams, maybe,” Mitch said amiably going along with the old joke. “Because you're
never gonna live long enough to see that day while you're awake.”

“Ha! Don't bet the casino on it.”

“As if…” Mitch made a snorting sound; he never gambled on anything, never mind the family owned casino. “You know damn well I never…”

“Yeah, yeah. I do know, so spare me the drill. When do you want me in Deadwood?”

“We've set the date for the first Saturday in the new year. But you could come for Christmas,” Mitch suggested, cautiously hopeful.

“I don't think so.” Justin slanted a wry look at the tall, glittery tree placed in front of the wide living room window. The tree—along with other assorted holiday decorations—was a concession to Ben's new bride. “You know I'm not—”

“Into Christmas,” Mitch finished for him. “Yes, I know.” He heaved a tired-sounding sigh. “This Christmas it'll be five years since Angie took off with that sales rep. Don't you think it's time to put it behind you, Justin, find a nice, decent woman and—”

“Back off, Mitch,” he growled in warning, closing his mind to the memory of that bitter winter. “The only woman I'll be looking to find won't be
either too nice or too decent, just ready and willing.”

“Tsk, tsk,” Mitch said, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “I do hope that if you're thinking of looking while you're here in Deadwood, you'll be discreet about it.”

“Don't want me to shock the sensibilities of the future missus, hmm?” Justine taunted.

“My future missus and Ben's missus and Adam's missus,” Mitch taunted right back. “Not to mention the sensibilities of our mother and sister.”

“Ouch.” Justin laughed. “Okay. I'll be extra discreet…even circumspect.”

Mitch chuckled. “Whatever.”

“By the way, is Karla going to be matron of honor?”

“Well…yes, but there'll be two of them.”

“Two what?”

“Well, two attendants,” Mitch said. “Maggie's best friend will be coming from Philadelphia via Nebraska to be Maggie's
maid
of honor.”

“Philadelphia via Nebraska?”

“She lives in Philadelphia,” Mitch explained. “That's where Maggie's from, you know.”

“Yeah, I know, but…where does Nebraska come in?”

“Hannah's originally from Nebraska, and she'll be visiting her family before coming on to Deadwood.”

“Hannah, huh?” Justin had an immediate image of an old-fashioned female to fit the old-fashioned name—prim, proper, virginal and probably plain.

“Yeah, Hannah Deturk.”

Add
prudish
to the list.

“And you'd better be nice to her,” Mitch warned.

“Of course I'll be nice to her. Why the hell wouldn't I be nice to her?” Justin said, genuinely hurt by his brother's warning, by the idea that Mitch felt it necessary to issue the warning.

“Well…” Mitch's tone was now conciliatory. “You've never made a secret about how you feel about women, and I just don't want anything to upset Maggie.”

“You sound as smitten as Ben,” he said. “You really do have it bad, don't you?”

“I love her, Justin, more than my own life,” Mitch admitted in a quiet, but rock-solid tone.

“I hear you, and I promise I'll behave.” He knew he'd never felt like that about a woman, not even his ex-wife, Angie, and was certain he never would.

Hell, he never wanted to experience that kind of intense emotion for any woman, Justin thought minutes later, frowning as he cradled the receiver. That path only led to pain.

First Ben and Karla, now Mitch and Maggie, he mused, staring into space, and all within one year.

Hmm. While Justin wasn't fanciful, he did wonder if there was some type of aphrodisiac in Deadwood's water, or maybe it was the atmosphere in the casino, some sort of love and marriage spell.

The day after Christmas, Justin set off for Deadwood, convinced he was impervious to anything like a spell or potion. He'd learned his lesson.

 

Hannah Deturk had not been exactly thrilled to be leaving Philadelphia at the end of the third week of December, of all times of the year, for the upper Midwest. South Dakota via Nebraska. To Hannah Deadwood, South Dakota was the back of beyond and, if possible, even more remote than the area of Nebraska where she had been born and raised.

After graduating college and relocating, first to Chicago, which was too windy, then to New York City, which was too big, and finally settling into
Philadelphia, Hannah had vowed that other than brief visits home to visit her folks, she would never go back to that desolate part of the country. She certainly wouldn't travel there in the winter months of November, December, January, February and March, and she even considered October, April and May pretty chancy.

Only a request by her parents or, as was the case, the marriage of her dearest friend, Maggie, could induce Hannah to take the three hard-earned vacation weeks she had allotted herself and spend them in Deadwood, South Dakota, of all places.

She didn't even gamble, for goodness sake, had never even visited the casinos in Atlantic City, a mere hour or so drive down the Atlantic City expressway from Philly.

And yet when Maggie had called her to tell her she was getting married in January and asked Hannah to be her maid of honor, Hannah hadn't so much as entertained a thought of refusing.

So, a few days into the new year, after spending Christmas with her family in Nebraska, Hannah found herself on the road, steering a leased four-wheel-drive vehicle through a blessedly light fall of snow, heading for Deadwood.

It was dark, and the snowfall heavier when
Hannah finally arrived in the town made legendary by its historical reputation of being wide-open and the larger-than-life characters of Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane.

Those days were long-gone, as were the infamous pair. Other than having legal gambling casinos, Deadwood looked to Hannah much like any other small upper Midwest town.

She missed Philadelphia, where it would be evening rush hour and the traffic would be horrific. She even missed that.

Then again…perhaps not.

Smiling wryly, Hannah peered through the windshield to look for the turnoff Maggie had indicated in her directions. A few minutes later she brought the vehicle to a careful stop in front of a large Victorian house that had been converted into apartments.

No wonder Maggie had fallen in love with the house, Hannah thought, stepping out of the Jeep to stare through the swirling snow at the old mansion that had once been the Grainger family home. It was an imposing sight, and conjured images of a bygone era of grace and style.

“Hannah!”

Hannah blinked back into the present at the ex
cited sound of Maggie's voice calling her name. Her coatless friend was dashing down the veranda steps toward her.

“Maggie!” Hannah flung out her arms to embrace her friend. “Are you nutty, or what?” she asked, laughing, as she stepped back to gaze into her friend's glowing face. “It's snowing and freezing out here.”

“Yes, I'm nutty.” Maggie laughed with her. “So nutty and crazy in love, I don't feel the cold.”

“Got your love to keep you warm, do you?” Hannah dryly teased.

“Yes…yes.” Despite her heartfelt assertion, Maggie shivered. “I can't wait for you to meet him.”

“I'm looking forward to it,” Hannah said, grasping Maggie's arm to lead her toward the house. “But meanwhile let's get inside, where I hope it's warm.”

“Well, of course it's warm.” Maggie flashed a grin. “Even up in my nest on the third floor.”

Releasing her hold on Maggie's arm, Hannah turned back to the car. “You go on ahead, I'll just grab my bags and be with you in a minute.”

“Did you bring your dress for the wedding?” Maggie called from the shelter of the veranda.

“Of course I did,” Hannah yelled back over the
open trunk lid, shivering as the sting of wind-driven snow bit into her face. “Now go into the house.”

A half hour later, her bags unpacked, the special dress she had frantically shopped for before leaving Philly hanging on a padded hanger to dewrinkle, Hannah sat curled on the cushioned seat in the bay window alcove in Maggie's warm “nest,” her hands cradling a steaming cup of marshmallow-topped hot chocolate.

She took a careful sip, and winced. “Mmm…delicious. But very hot. I scorched my tongue.”

Maggie laughed. “It's supposed to be hot.” Her eyes danced with amusement. “That's why it's called
hot
chocolate.”

Hannah's pained expression smoothed into a gentle smile. It was so good to hear her friend laugh again, see the glow of happiness in Maggie's face that had replaced the bitter hurt of betrayal of the previous summer.

“You really are in love this time,” Hannah said, taking another careful sip. “Aren't you?”

“Yes…though I wouldn't have believed it possible mere months ago…I really am in love.” Maggie heaved a contented sigh. Her eyes took on a dreamy look. “Mitch is so wonderful, so, so…”

“Everything Todd was not?” Hannah interjected, her normally husky voice lightened by expectation.

“Todd who?” Maggie asked with assumed innocence.

Hannah grinned, finally convinced her friend was back on track at last. “Oh, you know, Todd what's-his-name, the jerk you were engaged to marry. The same jerk who eloped with his boss's daughter.”

Maggie grimaced. “Oh,
that
jerk. Yes, Mitch is everything Todd was not.” Her lips formed a soft smile. “And a whole heck of a lot more.”

“Good.” Allowing herself to fully relax, Hannah settled more comfortably into the corner of the alcove. Smiling, she studied her friend's radiant face. “You really are genuinely in love this time,” she murmured in tones of wonder. “Aren't you?”

Maggie laughed. “Didn't I just answer that question moments ago? Yes, Hannah, I am deeply, genuinely, madly, desperately, deliriously…

“Okay, okay,” Hannah broke in, holding up her hands and laughing. “I believe you.”

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