Heart of Ice

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?

Dear Reader,

I really can’t express how flattered I am and also how grateful I am to Mills & Boon 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 Mills & Boon 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, Mills & Boon, and for putting up with me for thirty long years! Love to all of you.

Diana Palmer

Table of Contents

Cover

Back Cover Copy

Title Page

Author Note

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

About the Author

Copyright Page

Chapter One

“You 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.

Richard had taken Kati to the Grand Teton National Park for the day, while Mrs. Winthrop soaked up the attention she was getting from her son and daughter. She was a lot like Ada, a happy, well-adjusted person with a loving disposition. And none of Egan’s cynicism. Kati had liked her very much. But she and Richard had felt that Mrs. Winthrop needed some time alone with her children. So they’d driven to the park and hiked and enjoyed the beauty of the mountains rising starkly from the valley, and afterward they’d stopped in Jackson for steaks and a salad.

On the way home, Richard’s car had had a flat tire. Richard, being the lovable feather-brain he was, had no spare. In that part of the country on a holiday night, there wasn’t a lot of traffic. So they walked back to the ranch—which took until four in the morning.

Egan had been waiting up. He said nothing to Richard, who was so tired that he was hardly able to stand. Richard went inside, leaving all the explanations to Kati.

“You live down to your reputation, don’t you?” he asked with a smile that chilled even in memory. “My God, you might have had a little consideration for my mother. She worried.”

Kati remembered trying to speak, but he cut her off with a rough curse.

“Don’t make it worse by lying,” he growled. “We both know what you are…you with your loose morals and your disgusting books. What you do with my cousin is your business, but I don’t want my holidays ruined by someone like you. You’re not welcome here any longer. Make some excuse to leave tomorrow.”

And he walked away, leaving Kati sick and near tears. She hadn’t let them show, she was too proud. And she’d managed to get to bed without waking Ada, who shared a room with her. But the next morning, cold-eyed and hating Egan more than ever, she packed her suitcase, gave some excuse about an unexpected deadline and asked Richard to take her to the airport.

They were on the porch when Egan came out the front door, looking irritated and angry and strangely haggard.

“I’d like to speak to you,” he told Kati.

She remembered looking at him as if he were some form of bacteria, her back stiff, her eyes full of hatred.

“Go ahead,” she told him.

He glared at Richard, who cleared his throat and mumbled something about getting the car.

“Why didn’t you tell me what happened?” he asked.

“Why bother, when you already knew?” she asked in glacial tones.

“I didn’t know,” he ground out.

“How amazing,” she replied calmly. “I thought you knew everything. You seem to have made a hobby out of my life—the fictionalized version, of course.”

He looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t apologize. “Richard had been drinking. It was four in the morning—”

“We had a very long walk,” she told him curtly. “About fifteen or twenty miles. Richard wasn’t drunk. He was tired.” Her dark eyes glittered up at him. “I didn’t like you much before, Mr. Winthrop, but I like you even less now. I’ll make a point of keeping out of your vicinity. I wouldn’t want to contaminate you.”

“Miss James…” he began quietly.

“Good-bye.” She brushed past him, suitcase in hand, and got into Richard’s car. Ada and Mrs. Winthrop had tried to talk her into staying, but she was adamant about having an unexpected deadline and work pressure. And to this day, only she and that animal in Wyoming really knew why she’d left. Even Richard hadn’t been privy to the truth.

That episode had brought the antagonism between Egan and Kati out into the open, and their relationship seemed to go from bad to worse. It was impossible for Kati to stay in the same room with Egan these days. He’d find an excuse, any excuse, to nick her temper. And she’d always retaliate. Like last year…

Egan had been in town for some kind of conference and had stopped by the apartment to see Ada. Kati had been on her way to a department store in downtown Manhattan to autograph copies of her latest book, Renegade Lover, a historical set in eighteenth-century South Carolina. Egan had walked in to find her in her autographing clothes—a burgundy velvet dress cut low in front, and a matching burgundy hat crowned by white feathers. She’d looked like the heroine on the front of her book, and he immediately pounced.

“My God, Madame Pompadour,” he observed, studying her from his superior height.

She bristled, glaring up at him. “Wrong country,” she replied. “But I wouldn’t expect you to know that.”

His eyebrow jerked. “Why not? Just because I’m in oil and cattle doesn’t make me an ignoramus.”

“I never said a word, Mr. Winthrop, honey,” she replied, batting her long eyelashes at him.

The term of endearment, on reflection, must have been what set him off. His lips curled in an unpleasant smile. “You do look the part, all right,” he replied. “You could stand on the street corner and make a nice little nest egg…”

She actually slapped him—and didn’t even realize she had until she felt her fingers stinging and saw the red mark along his cheek.

“Damn you!” she breathed, shaking with fury.

His nostrils flared; his eyes narrowed and became frankly dangerous. “Lift your hand to me again, ever,” he said in that low, cold tone, “and you’ll wish you’d never set eyes on me.”

“I already do, Egan Almighty Winthrop! I already do.”

“Dress like a tramp and people are going to label you one,” he rejoined. His eyes cut away from her with distaste. “I wouldn’t be seen in public with you.”

“Thank God!” she threw after him, almost jumping up and down with indignation. “I wouldn’t want people to think I cared so little about who I was seen with!”

At that moment, luckily, Ada had rushed in from her bedroom to play peacemaker. Without another word, Kati had grabbed up her coat and purse and had run from the apartment, tears rolling down her cheeks. It was a miracle that she managed to get herself back together by the time she reached the department store.

That was the last time she’d seen Egan Winthrop. And she never wanted to see him again. Oh, why had Ada agreed to let him come, knowing the state of hostility that existed between Egan and her? Why!

She put the last ball on the tree, and was reaching for the little golden angel that would sit atop it when she heard the door open.

It must be Ada with the pizza, of course, and she was starved. She reached up, slender in jeans and a pullover yellow velour sweater, laughing as she put the angel in place. As she moved, she knocked into one of the balls, but caught it just in time to keep it from dropping to the carpet.

“Back already?” she called. “I’m starved to death! Do you want to have it in here by the tree?”

There was a pregnant pause, and she felt eyes watching her. Nervous, she turned—to find herself staring at Egan Winthrop. Her hand clenched at the sight of him—so powerful and dark in his gray vested suit—and the fragile ball shattered under the pressure.

“You little idiot,” he muttered, moving forward to force open her hand.

She let him, numb, her eyes falling to the sight of his dark hands under her pale one where blood beaded from a small cut.

“I…wasn’t expecting…you,” she said nervously.

“Obviously. Do you have some antiseptic?”

“In the bathroom.”

He marched her into it and fumbled in the medicine cabinet for antiseptic and a bandage.

“Where’s Ada?” he asked as he cleaned the small cut, examined it for shards, and applied the stinging antiseptic.

“Out getting pizza,” she muttered.

He glanced up. He’d never been so close to her, and those silver eyes at point-blank range were frightening. So was the warmth of his lean, powerful body and the smell of his musky cologne.

His eyes searched hers quietly, and he didn’t smile. That wasn’t unusual. She’d only seen him smile at Ada or his mother. He was reserved to the point of inhibition most of the time. A hard man. Cold…

Something wild and frightening dilated her eyes as she met that long, lingering look, and her heart jumped. Her lips parted as she tore her gaze down to the small hand that was visibly trembling in his big ones.

“Nervous, Katriane?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m nervous,” she bit off, deciding that a lie would only amuse him. If granite could be amused.

“How long did it take Ada to talk you into this visit?” he asked.

She drew in a heavy breath. “All of a half hour,” she said gruffly. “And I still think it’s a horrible mistake.” She looked up at him defiantly. “I don’t want to spoil Christmas for her by fighting with you.”

His chin lifted as he studied her. “Then you’ll just have to be nice to me, won’t you?” he baited. “No snide remarks, no deliberate taunts…”

“Look who’s talking about snide remarks!” she returned. “You’re the one who does all the attacking!”

“You give as good as you get, don’t you?” he asked.

Her lower lip jutted. “It’s Christmas.”

“Yes, I know.” He studied her. “I like presents.”

“Is anyone going to give you one?” she asked incredulously.

“Ada,” he reminded her.

“Poor demented soul, she loves you,” she said, eyeing him.

“Women do, from time to time,” he returned.

“Ah, the advantages of wealth,” she muttered.

“Do you think I have to pay for it?” he asked with a cold smile. “I suppose a woman who sells it expects everyone to…”

Her hand lifted again, but he caught it this time, holding it so that she had to either stand on her tiptoes or have her shoulder dislocated.

“Let go!” she panted. “You’re hurting!”

“Then stop trying to hit me. Peace on earth, remember?” he reminded her, oddly calm.

“I’d like to leave you in pieces,” she mumbled, glaring up at him.

His eyes wandered from her wild, waving red-gold hair down past her full breasts to her small waist, flaring hips and long legs. “You’ve gained a little weight, haven’t you?” he asked. “As voluptuous as ever. I suppose that appeals to some men.”

“Ooooh!” she burst out, infuriated, struggling.

He let her go all at once and pulled a cigarette from his pocket, watching her with amusement as he lit it. “What’s the matter? Disappointed because you don’t appeal to me?”

“God forbid!”

He shook his head. “You’ll have to do better than this if you want to keep a truce with me for the next few days. I can’t tolerate hysterical women.”

She closed her eyes, willing him to disappear. It didn’t work. When she opened them, he was still there. She put away the antiseptic and bandages and went back into the living room, walking stiffly, to clean the debris of the shattered ball from the beige carpet.

“Don’t cut yourself,” he cautioned, dropping lazily into an armchair with the ashtray he’d found.

“On what, the ball or you?” she asked coldly.

He only laughed, softly, menacingly; and she fumbled with pieces of the ball while he watched her in that catlike, unblinking way of his.

“I thought Ada told me you’d stopped smoking,” she remarked when she was finished.

“I did. I only do it now when I’m nervous.” He took another long draw, his eyes mocking. “You give me the jitters, honey, didn’t you know?”

“Me and the cobalt bomb, maybe,” she scoffed. She threw away the debris and ran an irritated hand through her hair. “Do you want me to show you to your room, like a good hostess?” she asked.

“You’d show me to the elevator and press the Down button,” he said. “I’ll wait for my sister and a warmer welcome.”

It was Christmas, and he’d lost his mother, and she hated the surge of sympathy she felt. But knowing he’d toss it right back in her face kept her quiet. She went to the window and stared down at the busy street. “Ada, hurry,” she wanted to scream.