The Virgin and Zach Coulter. Lois Faye Dyer

       It happened so fast she had no time to gather her wits before he bent his head and kissed her.

      She caught her breath, startled, as his warm mouth covered hers. For long moments, his lips lured hers, changing pressure from firm to soft as he coaxed her to respond. By the time he lifted his head, she was breathless and fighting the urge to pull his mouth back to hers.

      “Sometimes a demonstration is better than a thousand words,” he said, the words rumbling. “Are you still convinced pretending the heat between us doesn’t exist will make it go away?”

      The rasping sound of his deep voice rubbed over Cynthia’s nerves, stirring a yearning need she suspected was better left sleeping.

      Dear Reader,

      I’ve often wondered how a person with a genetic urge to seek excitement managed their life. In some ways, I was able to satisfy my curiosity while writing Zach’s story … because Zach Coulter has a lifelong history of pushing the boundaries, testing the outer limits of his endurance and chancing death whenever possible. His mother, Melanie, also possessed a reckless nature—and when the eleven-year-old Zach dared her, Melanie had jumped into the creek to join him—and died.

      Twenty-three years later, Zach returns to the Triple C, where—he’s always believed—he caused his mother’s death. He plans to stay in Montana only long enough to join forces with his brothers and save the ranch they’ve all inherited. But the world shifts on its axis when he meets and joins forces with beautiful Cynthia Deacons. Soon, he begins to wonder if Cyn might permanently satisfy his thirst for excitement and calm his restless heart.

      I hope you enjoy reading Zach Coulter’s story and that you’ll return with me soon to the Triple C Ranch and the third installment in Big Sky Brothers when Zach and Cade welcome home the youngest, famed silversmith Eli Coulter.

      Warmly,

       Lois

      About the Author

      LOIS FAYE DYER lives in a small town on the shore of beautiful Puget Sound in the Pacific Northwest with her two eccentric and lovable cats, Chloe and Evie. She loves to hear from readers. You can write to her c/o Paperbacks Plus, 1618 Bay Street, Port Orchard, WA 98366, USA. Visit her on the web at www.LoisDyer.com.

      The Virgin and

      Zach Coulter

      Lois Faye Dyer

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      For my sister Shirley—

      children need more extraordinary schoolteachers like you

       Prologue

      “Hey, Zach, the phone’s for you!”

      Zach Coulter laid his cards facedown on the down-filled sleeping bag and stood. Outside the sturdy tent, the wind moaned and tugged at the corners and tie-lines while a half-moon cast silver light and shadows over the Mount Everest base camp.

      “Don’t look at my cards,” he warned his two companions, grinning at their four-letter-word responses as he crossed the tent and took the satellite receiver from the team leader. “Hello?”

      “Zach, it’s Angela.”

      “What’s up? Everything okay?” Zach tensed, a frown creasing his forehead.

      Static crackled on the line, but then his assistant reassured him with her usual crisp, no-nonsense tone. “Your brother Cade has been calling. I told him you weren’t reachable until you descended to base camp, but I promised to keep trying to contact you.”

      “What does he want?”

      “I don’t know—he didn’t say. All he would tell me is that he needs to talk to you.”

      “I’ll call him,” he told her.

      “How was the summit?” Angela asked.

      “High. And cold. And snowy,” Zach said drily. “I notice you didn’t ask if I made it to the top.”

      “Of course not,” she said with cool confidence. “I’ve never known you to fail. We’ll have champagne when you get back to the office, boss.”

      Zach laughed. “You’re buying, right?”

      “Absolutely. The grocery store carries bubbly.”

      Zach groaned and his assistant laughed, her amusement clear despite the intermittent static. After she’d assured him there were no other urgent matters at the office, they said goodbye and hung up.

      It took a few moments to place the call from the satellite phone in Nepal to Cade’s cell phone back in the States.

      “Cade, it’s Zach.”

      “Where the hell have you been, Zach?” Cade’s deep voice demanded. Once again, the line crackled with interference.

      “Climbing Mount Everest in Nepal,” Zach told him without missing a beat, amused at his older brother’s growl. “We made it to the top and are on our way down. At the moment, I’m in a tent at base camp.”

      “Good to know you survived,” Cade said. “There’s no easy way to say this, Zach.” His voice was suddenly solemn, grim. “The old man died. He left the Triple C to you, me, Eli and Brodie. I’m in Indian Springs and I need you to come home.”

      “Hell.” Zach was stunned and barely aware he spoke aloud as he tried to get his head around Cade’s words. Joseph Coulter was gone—and his sons were his heirs? How was that possible? He shook his head to clear it, focusing on his brother’s last sentence. “I always said I’d never go back there, Cade, but if you need me, I’m on my way. Have you talked to Eli and Brodie?”

      “I left a message on Eli’s machine asking him to call me but I haven’t heard from him. And I have no idea where the hell Brodie is. The last phone number I had for him isn’t good anymore. Have you heard from him over the last six to eight months?”

      Zach frowned, trying to recall. “No, I think it’s been more like ten months. Last I remember, he was still on the road following the rodeo circuit. We talked about meeting up in Oregon this summer to go white water rafting and fly-fishing on the Rogue River.”

      “Damn.” Cade’s disappointment carried clearly over the line, as if he were standing in the tent with Zach instead of thousands of miles away. “I was hoping you’d talked to him.”

      “We’ll find him, Cade,” Zach said. “None of us ever goes a year without checking in. If he and Eli haven’t called you before I reach Indian Springs, I’ll have Angela start searching, too.” His assistant was as reliable as a bloodhound at tracking down information. “I’ll head out as soon as I can. First, I have to get off the mountain and there’s a storm kicking up