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Nevea Lane

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Marked in Montana
by Nevea Lane   

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Books by Nevea Lane
· Stunt 101
· Disturbing the Yuletide
· Chased Through Montana
                >> View all



Publisher:  Beautiful Trouble Publishing ISBN-10:  9781936271870 Type: 

Copyright:  July 16, 2010 ISBN-13:  9781936271870

Contemporary Interracial Romance

Beautiful Trouble Publishing


It was meant to be a simple favor. Samara "Sam" Cole flew out to Montana to help her roommate with an auction being held on her brother's ranch. But while Samara knew about the auction, she didn't count on being in the auction! She also didn’t count on her instantaneous attraction to her roommate’s brother.

Grant Stone had heard all about Samara from his little sister. He’d already been hard for her since his first glimpse, and the jade green cowgirl outfit pushed him over the edge. Despite her having a whole lot more sass than he usually liked his in women, he knew he had to have her. Samara was meant to be his, and she wasn't leaving Montana without knowing she was marked for him


I took a leisurely pace around the property, admiring the scene before me. I was surrounded by mountains, evergreens and fresh air. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Turning on my heel, I ran smack into what I thought was a mountain. How could I have missed a wall behind me?

“Son of a bitch.” Walls shouldn’t be swearing either. I shook my head to clear it from the collision, and I notice the wall had arms and they were gripping my shoulders. I was about to scream when I heard Brittany’s voice from behind the mountain. “Sorry, Grant, Sam was getting high off the mountain air.”

I took a step back and looked up, and up, and up some more. Holy Mary, this man was tall. I was thankful I was wearing my shades so he couldn’t see me eyeing him up and down. Grant was all hard muscle, and the way those jeans were fitting him should be illegal. I turned my head to the arms that still gripped my shoulders and gulped. His forearm had to be as thick as my calf, and it was corded like a cobra ready to strike.

I took another step back because his large hands felt like they were burning a hole in my flesh. Then I took another look at the man’s face, and damn did he look angry.

I held out my hand and used my other to take off my sunglasses and meet his steely stare with my own. Big mistake. Without the tinted glasses on, I was having a stare down with the greenest eyes I had ever seen in my life. They were a shade that had no name in any language I knew, and they seemed to have some type of hatred in them.

“Hello, Grant. I’m Sam, Brittany’s roommate in the Chi.” I still held out my hand, but I had turned on my professional, I-am-talking-to-my-boss voice.

He abruptly let go of my shoulders, but he didn’t take my hand. He just stared down at me with his jaw set and his full bottom lip looking like it was trying to see how straight it could go. I wondered what his lips would feel like on mine. I was sure they’d be a perfect complement to my own full lips.

“You’re Sam?” His voice was gruff, and he sounded like he was still pissed off. “Yes?” What the hell was his problem? I retracted my hand and put it in on my hip.

I looked at him and he stared at me. He tipped the top of his Stetson higher and really stared down at me. If it was a battle of stares, I was the staring queen in my neighborhood.

“Grant, you’re being rude.” Brittany was now right beside me with her arms folded in front of her like a drill sergeant. The mountain man’s eyes finally left mine, and I smirked—I had won another stare down. He looked squarely at his sister and put his hands on his hips and widened his stance.

“Brits, I have always been rude. All the time, twenty-four seven, I am just mean.” I would have completely believed him if there hadn’t been a twinkle in his eye when he said it.

She giggled and punched him in the arm. At least he was friendly to her. As for me, I think he would have liked to spike me with his spurs.

Since Grant was otherwise occupied with his sister, I took a moment to check him out. He was fine, I will give him that. He had this rough, hardened look about him that yelled “I take no shit from anyone.” His jaw was set in a square shape, but it was the remnant of the scar on his cheek that captured my attention. I wondered how he came by that scar. His broad shoulders looked like he would have to turn sideways to walk through a door. I let my eyes roam lower, and all I could think was hot damn and Sugar Honey Iced Tea. Those jeans should be outlawed, or him wearing jeans should be outlawed, because the way the denim was hugging those muscled thighs was assaulting my equilibrium.

I was drooling over that image so bad, I hadn’t realized that I’d whistled, out loud, for the world to hear. I hoped the ground would open up and swallow me whole, especially after Grant fixated that emerald green stare at me again. I swallowed and just stared right back.

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