Half-Moon Hearts
By Mallory Rush
()
About this ebook
But when destiny calls him back to Half-Moon Hollow, what was once forbidden has now ripened in a most delicious and womanly way...
All grown up and still waiting for her dream-man to reappear, Addy is more than ready to marry Aaron and force peace between their battling families.
But what happens when a spitfire siren from the hills learns the ways of the world? And what of the man torn between possession of his muse and setting her free?
OTHER TITLES by Mallory Rush
Outlaws and Heroes, A Three-Book Series
Shades of Deception, A Four-Book Series
Bad Boy of New Orleans
Between the Sheets
Hurts So Good
Half-Moon Hearts
Kissed by the Beast
Madness and Magic
Mallory Rush
Mallory Rush (aka Olivia Rupprecht) began writing romances when her babies were in diapers. Now that they’re grown, she’s still writing about the most amazing experience in the world: Falling in love with an imperfect someone who just happens to be perfect for us; the dizzying euphoria of a first kiss, the devastation of a heart being broken, and the thrill of emerging with a happy ending despite all the odds against it. Her own life story goes something like this: Nearly destitute, divorced young mother of four, working two jobs, loses her house—but keeps typing away into the wee hours, determined to see her love stories in print. Enter a really hot, single guy riding a Harley (er, Suzuki) and building corporate empires (as a CFO for a manufacturing plant in Lubbock, Texas). One kiss and KA-POW! It was like you read about. He asked her (and all those kids) to marry him and bought them a house as a wedding present. A year later they had a miracle baby. A few years after that, Bad Boy of New Orleans hit the bookstore shelves. Many other novels would follow, and corporate moves would take them to Tallahassee, Memphis, Boulder, and finally to Fox Lake, Wisconsin, where they’ve renovated a big historic tavern. A lot of people thought it wouldn’t last, but 30 years later they’re still really into each other. Little wonder that Mallory believes in the transcendent power of love and its ability to elevate all of our lives from the ordinary to something mystical and amazing. Although she’s written and edited historical thrillers and non-fiction as Olivia Rupprecht, she considers romance to be more than a genre—it’s as essential as breathing for a truly rich life. Mallory loves to hear from her readers.
Read more from Mallory Rush
Kiss of the Beast (A Classic Paranormal Romance) Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Hurts So Good Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Date with the Devil (A Classic Romance) Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Just a Little Taboo (Shades of Deception, Book 2) Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Between the Sheets Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Just a Little Lie (Shades of Deception, Book 1) Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Just a Little Misgiving (Shades of Deception, Book 3) Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5In Too Deep Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Bad Boy of New Orleans Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Love Slave (Outlaws and Heroes, Book 1) Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Madness and Magic (2 Short Story Indulgences in 1) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsJust a Little Sin (Shades of Deception, Book 4) Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Danger and Desire (Outlaws and Heroes, Book 3) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsDead or Alive (Outlaws and Heroes, Book 2) Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
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Half-Moon Hearts - Mallory Rush
Half-Moon Hearts
by
Mallory Rush
Bestselling, Award-winning Author
Previously titled: Shotgun Wedding
Published by ePublishing Works!
www.epublishingworks.com
ISBN: 978-1-61417-550-6
By payment of required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this eBook. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of copyright owner.
Please Note
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
The reverse engineering, uploading, and/or distributing of this eBook via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.
Copyright © 1994, 2014 by Olivia Rupprecht. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.
Cover and eBook design by eBook Prep www.ebookprep.com
Thank You.
For Daddy
Who took me in search of rainbow's end,
and taught me that the pot of gold is never beyond reach,
that the best riches are found along life's way
as we pursue our dreams.
The only real failure is the fear to try.
Prologue
I thank you for the books, Aaron. But I thank you even more for the fancy new dress. Like it?
Addy sashayed into the small barn, fresh hay crunching beneath her scuffed black boots. Several twigs caught in the sole, which was coming apart from the shoe leather.
She should have looked silly, or even a little pitiful, in those awful worn-out boots and the simple cotton sundress he'd brought from New York to Half-Moon Hollow. God's country, or so hamlet dwellers called it. But to an outsider, even a self-made one like himself, this hidden pocket of Appalachia was closer to the vision striding toward him in a sad pair of shoes: gorgeous scenery wrapped in poverty and pride.
No, Addy didn't look silly or pitiful by a long shot, and at the moment Aaron wished that she did.
Where had the little girl gone? Only the flowing, wild mane of her sable hair marked her as the child he'd always harbored a special fondness for. It amazed him how much she'd matured since his last visit two years ago, when she'd been a coltish twelve-year-old. That was the girl he'd bought the dress for, not this woman-child with a lush, feminine body.
Aaron was suddenly sorry he'd given her the secret gift earlier that day. Especially now that it was night and the tight binding of the dress enhanced her graceful movements as she slowly moved closer.
She twirled, and the skirt flirted around long bare legs.
So? Like what you see?
It's...
Riveting. Risqué. Two sizes too small and totally inappropriate. Lord, if any of the local boys saw her in the thing, they'd be after her like a pack of rutting dogs. Not even he, ever the doting mentor of sorts, was immune.
Something instinctive and disturbing stirred inside him. He was tempted to tell Addy to head home and never dare put that dress on again. But she looked so expectant and hopeful, so obviously wanted his approval, that he couldn't bring himself to hurt her feelings.
The dress looks nice on you, Addy.
I'm awfully glad you think so.
She gave him a beaming smile, then glanced down to admire the bodice. Aaron realized that he was admiring her bodice too. "It is nice, isn't it?"
Nice? About as nice as the shocking jolt of his masculine reaction. Proof positive that he'd gotten what he came for—absorbing his heritage, which was destined for canvas and clay in a SoHo loft. Some heritage, he thought as Addy strolled closer, a birthplace where his attraction to a much younger distant relation wasn't way out of line.
Her waist-length hair, dark as a moonless night, swayed in time with her hips. She had a walk that was aloof and sultry, a poised glide that was somehow straightforward and cocky at once. It suited her. As for the arousal it incited, that didn't suit Aaron one little bit.
He busied himself by lighting another lantern, then looked at her with a stern gaze.
"You shouldn't be here, Addy. You're already in trouble for sneaking over to see me during the day. If your folks knew you'd traipsed through the pass to hunt down a Breedlove this late at night, they'd be upset. Real upset."
Oh, they'd have hissy fits for a fact, likely give me enough chores to last me to old age. But what they don't know won't hurt 'em—and unless you tell on me, I should be safe.
Safe was not what he was feeling at the moment. The barn belonging to his father was small, considering that Judson Breedlove was the reigning clansman on this side of the hamlet. But the closer Addy came, the smaller the space seemed. By the time she walked two work-roughened fingers up his chest, there was barely room left to breathe.
Aaron inhaled sharply. The smell of fresh rainwater and wildflowers stirred his senses to a dangerous level, and though his instincts urged him to touch her sweet-smelling hair, morals demanded he put an end to this quick.
He caught her wrist. The innocent contact didn't feel innocent. It was laced with a current of sexual heat that defied age differences and an outside society's disapproval. It wasn't right for him to be feeling these things. It wasn't right for Addy to be teasing him like this. But then again, she was only a simple mountain girl trying out her feminine charms on a man of the world and had no idea she might be courting disaster.
You're playing with fire,
he warned softly. Careful, Addy, or you could get burned.
She answered him by licking her finger, pressing it to his lips, and softly hissing, Sssss.
He couldn't have said it better himself. As he stared down at her, the blush of her cheeks reminding him of small apples ripened by the sun, her bluer than blue eyes sparked with mischief and intimate invitation, he steeled himself to meet her challenge.
You know, Addy, when I bought that dress, I had no idea you'd grown into such a tempting young woman.
What if I hadn't showed? Would you've given this pretty thing to your sister instead, or come hunting me down?
I knew you'd find me when no one was looking. After all, we've always been special to each other. Me, telling you stories about the big city. You, singing me those songs you make up while I'm gone. And I do have to say I'm amazed by just how much you've grown since my last visit.
Slowly lowering his gaze, drawn by the alluring sight of her breasts filling out the white cotton bodice, he suddenly questioned what he was planning to do. But Addy was so special, so different from both their kin, and he wanted better for her than where she was recklessly heading.
Holding to his purpose, he gripped a fistful of hair at her nape and angled her face to his.
Have you ever been kissed?
he roughly demanded.
No,
she answered on a throaty sigh, much too seductive and filled with an innocent yearning that caught at him, twisted him up in places he struggled to ignore. Lots of boys have tried, mind you. But I was waiting.
She licked lush lips that were provocative by nature and didn't need lipstick, even if she'd had some.
I was waiting for you, Aaron. Every night I dream about you, about us. And I sleep with that doll you brung—I mean, brought—me. See? I'm even talking different since I've been studying those books you gave me. I wanted to make you proud, prove I could learn to be like you.
Take my word for it, you don't want to be like me.
Knowing just how humanly flawed he was made him feel both wonderful and unworthy when she continued to look up at him as if he were some god in the sky. Be yourself and make us both proud by staying out of trouble. Coming here like this, coming on to me, it's not smart.
He gave her a shake that sent her hair tumbling over his hands, which were themselves trembling.
I'm twenty-five, little girl, not sixteen. Consider yourself lucky that I've still got some scruples and a lot more sense than you do. You'd better wise up, Addy, before you get yourself in trouble with some boy who doesn't have a lick of ambition or the inclination to turn away what you came here offering. Do I make myself clear?
She pressed her palm against his chest and stroked. "What's clear to me is that your heart's beating like a rainstorm on a tin roof. Maybe you've made yourself into an outsider, but your papa's blood runs true in your veins. When he was the chosen son, he picked your mama from all the other McDonald women, and she was scarce a year older than me. Look at me, Aaron, look at me good, and tell if what you see is a little girl. Or do you see a woman old enough to bear children, tend a house, and work the land? I loved you when I was a child, but now I'm a woman. In love. With you."
You don't know what you're saying or doing.
He'd meant to say it kindly, but his words emerged sharp, directed more to himself than her. You'd better leave,
he said gruffly. Go on now, before you make this situation worse than it is.
"But I do love you, she declared passionately, tugging at his shirt.
And I want you something fierce!"
Damn, enough already!
As he thrust away her hand, Aaron damned himself for the hunger she provoked, the temptation of grabbing her back to crush her mouth with his. Shunning his forbidden lust, he snapped, "You don't love me. You can't. Baby, you don't even know me."
That's not true, not true at all. Why, I know you better'n anyone in the hollow. You're kind and sweet and—
"Try temperamental, with an emphasis on temper. Be smart and go home. If you don't, you're going to find out that I can be anything but kind and sweet. He pointed an unsteady finger at the barn door she'd closed on her way in.
Make tracks like white lightnin', and don't you ever wiggle your tail under my nose again, or I'll tan your hide before your papa can. You deaf, girl? I said, git!"
His words rebounded with a mocking echo in his head. Eight years he'd spent refining himself, carving his niche in the art world by virtue of the same roots he was desperate to put behind him. Now, thanks to Addy, the old roots were tangling around his feet, making him fear he would stumble and fall. On Addy. Fall on her as if she truly were a woman, not one in the making whose perspective was shaded by this secluded, closed society.
She leveled him with an in-your-face stare while slowly dropping to her knees. Hands raised in supplication, she held his gaze captive with hers, demanding he confront all that she was. Her pride. Maturity. A sensuality of stark beauty.
But it was the willful streak, a gritty determination to rival his own, that commanded his grudging respect.
"You don't have to love me back, Aaron, 'cause I love you enough for us both. Take me with you. Please. Take me away from here to that world where you go. I won't be any trouble, I promise. I'll cook your meals, clean your house, mend your clothes. And if you don't want to bed me till you decide just maybe you love me some, too, that's something I won't fight—"
No.
His terse refusal coincided with an inner wince of empathy. Their blood ties were distant, but they were woven tight in their mutual thirst for more. More than this impoverished, rich land and the century-old feud that tied the McDonalds to the Breedloves like a shared umbilical cord. He felt for Addy, deeply. And though he'd tried, it just wasn't in him to turn her away so meanly.
Look, I'm sorry,
he told her. "Because I know how you feel—so trapped, you think you'll go crazy before finding a way to get out. But I'm not your way out, Addy McDonald. I can't be, no matter how much I wish I could give that to you."
But anything you wish, you can make happen. You can do anything, Aaron. Why, every soul in the hills with half a brain knows it. Just look at the way you ran off, with your papa screaming at your back, and when you came home it was in your very own airplane! And you had on those fancy clothes and brought all sorts of fancy stuff from the outside and—
Addy, get up.
When he tried to lift her, her skin beneath his palms felt like hot clay, pliable and earthy. Dear God, what had he ever done to deserve this? How could he endure the grasp of her arms around his legs, her cheek pressed against his upper thigh while she thanked him again and again for the books, the magazines with the glossy ads...?
And, Aaron, oh, Aaron, the places I go in my mind. With you, always with you. I close my eyes, and we're together on a ship, or barefoot on sand so white, it hurts to look at, or—or sometimes I see us in a room so fine, I can't believe a body could ever bear to go outside. Don't leave me here,
she pleaded. We can steal away. Tonight, we could run off and—
And our families would have a whole new quarrel with each other. It's not an easy truce as it is, you know that. And I'm not about to give my father more grief than I already have.
Stroking her head, he offered what comfort and understanding he could as he proceeded to shatter her dreams.
Besides, where I live now, a grown man can't take in an underage girl without the authorities wanting some answers. And even if they didn't, I have a career that doesn't leave room for you. I know that sounds cruel, but that's just the way it is. Try to understand. Even if you can't, you'll just have to take my 'no' as final.
I understand just fine.
She got to her feet, knuckling tears from her cheeks as she did. Those are good reasons all right, reasons wrapped in lies. Ashamed of where you come from and us livin' here, that's what you are. Got yourself a shiny new life, Aaron Breedlove, and you don't want some backwoods kin reminding you of what you are inside... or sheddin' light on what you hide from other eyes.
Addy raised her chin, daring him to argue the truth. There was an unmistakable triumph in her fierce gaze. In that moment Aaron thought her the most ravishing sight he'd ever beheld: Addy, glorious in her fury at the man who had refused her an escape. Thank God she'd yet to come into her own because as it was he felt bested by a child.
Congratulations,
he said quietly. Maybe you do know me. Got me where it hurts. Funny, how humans take such a perverse pleasure in hurting those we profess to love.
Her brow arched, and she let go a short, brittle laugh. Seems I waited all this time for a man who's scared of a hillbilly girl. Never mind the kiss, I'll get my first from any boy I pick... and soon. Real soon. While you're flying in the sky, think of me bein' with someone else, and just you remember it could've been you.
She turned to walk away.
Before he could think past his need to have the last word, Aaron caught the flyaway whip of her hair with one hand while his other spun her around by the waist.
Not so fast, girl. You want a kiss? Well, I do too.
Aaron stroked her arms with a calculated gentleness, then gripped them hard, his fingertips exerting a biting pressure. Oh yes, there was a price attached to provocation, and that was something Addy was about to learn. Breathing in