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The Second Mrs. MalonebyAmanda StevensA woman alone... with no one to trust. Where can she run?Straight into the arms ofHER PROTECTORShe'd forgotten her own husband.She was wearing a wedding ring.She looked away from Sergeant Stoner's probing gaze. "Have youremembered anything?""My name." She was still unable to meet his gaze. "It's Andrea.""So I heard. It's very pretty. And your last name?""I don't know." With an effort, Andrea willed herself to relax, forcedher gaze to meet Sergeant Stoner's. His eyes, a dark impenetrablebrown, were fringed with long, curly lashes. He was tall and lean, butAndrea knew that beneath his suit coat, the muscles in his arms andchest would be powerful. She could almost feel them flex and bunchbeneath her hands.She stopped her thoughts cold. Was she remembering how it felt to bein a man's arms? Or was she experiencing wishful thinking, because ofthis particular man?Just what kind of woman am I?Dear Reader,April kicks off with a brand new SHADOWS AND SPICE novel, The WrongMan, from popular author Kelsey Roberts. Lawyer Haley Jenkins has afriend who's gone missing, and so she helps Detective Dalton Rossinvestigate: Despite their mutual attraction, Haley has sworn offcops--and Dalton has only one rule, too--no lawyers! Kelsey says: "Ihad a lot of fun showing these two people that it can be more fun whenyou forget the rules and listen to your heart."Heather Graham Pozzessere has created a compelling love story thattranscends time in The Last Cavalier, part of the TIMELESS LOVEpromotion. You'll love heroic soldier Jason Tarkenton; he's a realman!In The Second Mrs. Malone by Amanda Stevens, you'll meet anothergorgeous man in uniform. Sergeant Troy Stoner finds a woman withamnesia wandering the streets, covered in blood--was she victim orvillain? And last but by no means least, Sheryl Lynn's duet HONEYMOONHIDEAWAY concludes this month in The Case of the Bad Luck Fiancd.Enjoy!The EditorsMrs. MaloneDID YOU PURCHASE THIS BOOK WITHOUT A COVER?If you did, you should be aware it is stolen property as it wasreported unsold and destroyed by a retailer. Neither the author northe publisher has received any payment for this book.All the characters in this book have ru existence outside theimagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyonebearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspiredby any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidentsare pure invention.All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or inpart in any form. This edition is published by arrangement withHarlequin Enterprises H B. V. The text of this publication or any partthereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by anymeans, electronic or mechanical, including, photocopying, recording,storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without thewritten permission of the publisher.This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way oftrade' or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulatedwithout the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding orcover other than that in which it is published and without a similarcondition including this condition being imposed on the subsequentpurchaser.Silhouette and Colophon are registered trademarks of Harlequin BooksS.A." used under licence.First published in Great Britain 1998Silhouette Books, Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road,Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SRMarilyn Medlock Amann 1997ISBN 0 373 22430 3Printed and bound in Great Britain by Mackays of Chatham PLC. ChathamThis book is lovingly dedicated to Steven, Lucas and Leanne AmannChapter OneThe woman was covered in blood. The drying crimson splashed across thefront of-her expensive white tank dress like globs of red paint. Herpale face was streaked with dirt and mascara, and her blond hair hungto her waist in damp, matted clumps. She looked as if she'd been tohell and back, and Sergeant Troy Stoner of the Houston PoliceDepartment couldn't take his eyes off her.He turned to the patrol officer who had picked her up earlier in theevening after spotting her wandering down a busy street and brought herto the emergency room at St. Mary's."Who is she?" Troy asked over the noise and chaos of the ER. Thunderboomed outside, and somewhere down the hallway, a baby criedincessantly while a man with a gunshot wound in his leg screamedobscenities in Spanish at one of the nurses.Officer Dermott shrugged his damp shoulders, oblivious to the generalconfusion around him. "Hell if I know. I couldn't find anyidentification on her, and she was pretty disoriented when I picked herup. Didn't say one word the whole way here." He paused and tappedhis left temple with his fingertip. "I figure they'll take her up to thebin after they check her out here."Troy frowned at the derogatory term for the psychiatric ward, althoughto be honest, he couldn't say it had ever bothered him before. Butsomething about this woman brought out something in him he didn't careto analyze. Unable to tear his gaze away, he stared at her through thecurtained partition.Who was she? What the hell had happened to her? She hadn't been seenby a doctor yet, but the nurse who had spoken briefly with Troy a fewmoments ago assured him that her injuries appeared to be minor, a fewscrapes and bruises, nothing to warrant the amount of blood on herclothing. So whose blood was it? And how had it gotten on her?As if reading his thoughts, Dermott said, "She's damn lucky that bloodisn't hers. It's a wonder some drunk didn't splatter her all over thepavement."Somehow lucky wasn't a word Troy would ascribe to the pale, frightenedwoman sitting on the very edge of the hospital bed, as if poised toflee the moment she sensed danger.He wondered if she had any idea she was being watched. He and Dermottstood just outside the curtained partition, speaking loudly enough tobe heard over the din of the ER and the storm that raged outside, butthe woman gave no indication that she was aware of their presence. Shesat stone still, stating at some distant point in space that only sheseemed aware of.He should have gone home, Troy decided wearily. His shift had endedhours ago, but he'd been delayed at the hospital with a prisoner who'dsustained serious injuries after a botched convenience-store holdup.Just as he was about to leave, hoping to beat the rain, his lieutenanthad called him to tell him as long as he was still there he might aswell stick around and talk to another suspect who was being broughtin.But the moment Troy had seen the blonde, he'd been experiencing amyriad of regrets. He didn't need this. Not tonight. He wished he'dtold his lieutenant to go take a flying leap Let somebody else handlethis case. But it was too late now, and with another weary sigh, Troypushed the curtain aside and stepped through.He hardly made a sound, certainly nothing that could be heard over thegroans in the next cubicle, but the woman's gaze shot up, panicflashing in her blue eyes before she glanced away, as if wanting toshield her emotions from him.But in that moment when their eyes met, Troy felt an odd little tremorin the pit of his stomach, a sensation not unlike the ones heexperienced in times of keen excitement or extreme danger.Damn, he thought. He really didn't need this.He walked toward her, but she didn't look at him again. Except forthat brief moment of eye contact, she'd retreated into that distantplace that made her appear so unreachable. So... fragile.Troy guessed he ought to be relieved she wasn't his type. He didn'tlike fragile women. He wasn't like his brother, Ray, who needed to bein control, or his other brother, Mitch, who' needed to be needed. Troyliked strong, secure, independent women. Women who knew the score aswell as he did.What he didn't like was a woman who brought out his protectiveinstincts. He'd found out the hard way that a woman like that could bea dangerous thing for a man like him.He cleared his throat, trying to draw her attention without causingher further alarm. "I'm Sergeant Stoner," he said gently. "I need toask you a few questions."When she didn't answer, he said, "Let's start with your name."Still no response.Taking out his notebook and pen, Troy tried not to let his eyes wanderto the slender bare legs revealed by her short hemline. Heconcentrated instead on the blood-stains. "The nurse said you didn'tappear to be seriously injured, but you have a lot of blood on yourclothing.Can you tell me what happened?"Silence.Troy moved to the end of the bed, giving her a little more space. Hestudied her profile and wondered what she was thinking. He couldalmost feel her sinking deeper into that place where no one, least ofall him, could reach her.But he wanted to try anyway. He wanted to take her by those thin,tanned shoulders, gaze into those crystalline eyes and, by sheer forceof will, bring her back to a place where he could reach her. Touchher... He broke off his thoughts abruptly. "What were you doing outalone this time of night? Officer Dermott said he found you onWestheimer, walking down the middle of the street. What happened toyou? Were you running away from someone? Were you assaulted?"Her hands were clasped in her lap, and Troy saw they were trembling. Hetook that as a good sign. At least she wasn't completely unaffected byhis questions.A scream erupted down the hallway, and the woman flinched. She lookedaround, as if sudde... [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
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