Kincaid had a problem.
The detective was a healthy male in his prime with his arms wrapped around a lovely, vulnerable woman in the middle of the wilderness. His body wanted more.
Even his mind, which Kincaid usually controlled ruthlessly, kept noting Sara’s softness, her scent, her slow smiles.
There was more than beauty to Sara Morgan. She was loyal and loving to those she cared about.
And she was hiding something from him.
Sara might be frightened, but if Kincaid hadn’t agreed to help her, she would have come up this mountain all alone to find her kidnapped nephew.
And because Kincaid knew what it was like to have someone you loved kidnapped and in danger, he’d agreed to help her.
Sure, she was hiding something from him. But for now, this minute, he wanted her. Plain and simple. He wanted her.
Badly.
Dear Reader,
Welcome to more juicy reads from Silhouette Special Edition. I’d like to highlight Silhouette veteran and RITA® Award finalist Teresa Hill, who has written over ten Silhouette books under the pseudonym Sally Tyler Hayes. Her second story for us, Heard It Through the Grapevine, has all the ingredients for a fast-paced read—marriage of convenience, a pregnant preacher’s daughter and a handsome hero to save the day. Teresa Hill writes, “I love this heroine because she takes a tremendous leap of faith. She hopes that her love will break down the hero’s walls, and she never holds back.” Don’t miss this touching story!
USA TODAY bestselling and award-winning author Susan Mallery returns to her popular miniseries HOMETOWN HEARTBREAKERS with One in a Million. Here, a sassy single mom falls for a drop-dead-gorgeous FBI agent, but sets a few ground rules—a little romance, no strings attached. Of course, we know rules are meant to be broken! Victoria Pade delights us with The Baby Surprise, the last in her BABY TIMES THREE miniseries, in which a confirmed bachelor discovers he may be a father. With encouragement from a beautiful heroine, he feels ready to be a parent…and a husband.
The next book in Laurie Paige’s SEVEN DEVILS miniseries, The One and Only features a desirable medical assistant with a secret past who snags the attention of a very charming doctor. Judith Lyons brings us Alaskan Nights, which involves two opposites who find each other irritating, yet totally irresistible! Can these two survive a little engine trouble in the wilderness? In A Mother’s Secret, Pat Warren tells of a mother in search of her secret child and the discovery of the man of her dreams.
This month is all about love against the odds and finding that special someone when you least expect it. As you lounge in your favorite chair, lose yourself in one of these gems!
Sincerely,
Karen Taylor Richman
Senior Editor
A Mother’s Secret
Pat Warren
To my handsome, witty firstborn son, Mike,
who will probably retire before his poor old mother.
PAT WARREN,
mother of four, lives in Arizona with her travel agent husband and a lazy white cat. She’s a former newspaper columnist whose lifelong dream was to become a novelist. A strong romantic streak, a sense of humor and a keen interest in developing relationships led her to try romance novels, with which she feels very much at home.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter One
Sara Morgan wasn’t the kind of woman who frequented bars, especially Western bars at the edge of town. But she had to find Graham Kincaid, had to convince him to help her. Too much was at stake.
She’d checked around. His name kept coming up, but finding him was proving to be more difficult than she’d anticipated. The desk sergeant at the Scottsdale police precinct he worked out of had told her very little, except that the elusive detective was on leave. She’d learned that he had a ranch in Cave Creek just north of Phoenix, but she didn’t know exactly where, and his phone number was unlisted.
Information on the almost legendary lawman was scarce and spotty. Nearly everyone she questioned seemed very protective of his privacy, almost reverential in discussing him, as if he were some sort of folk hero who belonged to them. Not one to give up easily, Sara had persisted until she’d learned some of his habits and the names of his favorite watering holes. It wasn’t that he was a drinker, she’d been told, but rather that he loved to play pool. And Shotgun Sam’s was the in place for pool addicts.
The ample parking lot was nearly full, and the thrumming music drifting outside was loud enough to jar her teeth. Sara pulled her white BMW into the last place, next to a lamp post. Hopefully, under that small splash of light, no one would steal her hubcaps.
Then she spotted them—no less than six motorcycles with more chrome than an Art Deco showroom. Just her luck, a biker bar.
As she got out, Sara noticed there were no other buildings nearby, only open desert for miles in all directions. Terrific, she thought as she hit the button on her keychain to lock her doors. The middle of nowhere.
Residual heat from the hot June day shimmered up from the paved parking lot. Deciding there was safety in numbers, she made her way to the double doors.
A framed newspaper ad off to the left caught her attention. “Five-star rating for Shotgun Sam’s where the burgers are thick and juicy, the beer cold and icy and the pool tables always humming.” If this was Graham Kincaid’s kind of place, she had to wonder what sort of man he was.
“Kincaid’s the best,” she’d been told more than once. “He could find a needle in a haystack, and he always gets his man, dead or alive,” the desk sergeant had added. Sara shuddered at that thought and went inside.
The polished mahogany bar stretched along the left wall where a couple of old-timers slouched on stools, nursing their beers. The lighting was dim except for neon roped around the mirror behind the bar. Busy waitresses in cowboy hats, short denim skirts and white boots carried loaded trays between the dozen or so tables, all occupied. In the far right corner, a three-piece band frantically played a fast one for the half-dozen couples gyrating on the tiny dance floor. On the far side of that was an archway leading to the pool tables where several men were clustered.
For a Monday night, Shotgun Sam was doing all right.
Sara was both anxious and weary as she stepped up to the bar and waited. After a few impatient moments, the very tall, very bald bartender with a handlebar mustache and a white apron wound around his generous torso, noticed her and ambled over.
“What can I get you, little lady?” he asked, his voice soft when she’d been expecting booming. His nametag read Oscar.
“I’m looking for Graham Kincaid,” Sara told him. “Is