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The Return of Connor Mansfield
The Return of Connor Mansfield
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The Return of Connor Mansfield

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The Return of Connor Mansfield
Beth Cornelison

A Mansfield brotherrises from the dead…Having mourned the ‘death’ of her fiancé, Darby Kent isn’t prepared for the moment theycome face to face. For years, the man sheloved and lost has lived in hiding. Until now.Connor is the only person who can save their ailing daughter: a living testament to the passion they once shared. But time is running out. Whilst Darby prays for their daughter’s survival, she must confront old desires…and powerful new enemies who’ve patiently awaited Connor’s return.

Connor gripped her hand almost to the point of pain, and she glanced up sharply.

The intensity of the gold stare she met sent a tremor through her.

“So marry me now. I want you and Savannah both to have my name.”

Darby’s heart lurched. “What?”

“It’s what we’d planned before I went into WitSec. We can get a justice of the peace or the hospital chaplain to come—”

“Connor, stop.” She wrenched her hand from his and shook it to get the blood circulating again. “Think about what you’re saying!”

“I don’t need to think about it. It feels right. It is right.” Determination and conviction set his jaw and shone in his gaze.

Her pulse raced so hard her head spun. At one time, marrying Connor and growing old with him had been her heart’s desire, a dream within her reach. Now he was offering her another chance at the dream that had been snatched from her. She should be grabbing on with both hands. But she couldn’t.

How could she marry a man she knew planned to leave her in a few days?

The Return of Connor Mansfield

Beth Cornelison

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

BETH CORNELISON started writing stories as a child when she penned a tale about the adventures of her cat, Ajax. A Georgia native, she received her bachelor’s degree in public relations from the University of Georgia. After working in public relations for a little more than a year, she moved with her husband to Louisiana, where she decided to pursue her love of writing fiction.

Since that first time, Beth has written many more stories of adventure and romantic suspense and has won numerous honors for her work, including a coveted Golden Heart Award in romantic suspense from Romance Writers of America. She is active on the board of directors for the North Louisiana Storytellers and Authors of Romance (NOLA STARS) and loves reading, traveling, Peanuts’ Snoopy and spending downtime with her family.

She writes from her home in Louisiana, where she lives with her husband, one son and two cats who think they are people. Beth loves to hear from her readers. You can write to her at PO Box 5418, Bossier City, LA 71171, USA, or visit her website, www.bethcornelison.com.

For my dad. Thanks for all you’ve done for your family through the years!

Thanks to Emma Welch for sharing her cat, Toby. I was happy to celebrate the love and loyalty of her furry friend as Darby’s faithful feline companion.

Thank you to Allison Reed for her winning bid in Brenda Novak’s Auction for the Cure of Diabetes 2012 to be featured as a character in this book.

Contents

Prologue (#ue452bee1-88f4-50fd-9fb5-1c94ed5f85c8)

Chapter 1 (#u86334e46-08e9-5a21-b9a0-41cd824deacb)

Chapter 2 (#uaf2d64bb-3e99-5e8e-88ab-76ce942d36ee)

Chapter 3 (#u1398fc1f-71bc-5fe1-935b-f581f89e6f16)

Chapter 4 (#u9a6aae58-74c3-519a-aad6-dced93121e0c)

Chapter 5 (#uc938ed12-293a-5332-b2b1-76554a11fe6a)

Chapter 6 (#u8697ca9b-e5a9-5150-ae55-ff926954659f)

Chapter 7 (#u8a38fd57-624b-53d2-9023-55de5ed599a2)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)

Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue

Through the thick fog of a Louisiana autumn morning, Victor Gale watched his prey from an abandoned hunter’s blind. Raising his rifle, he peered through the scope and drew a bead on his target’s head. Hatred gnawed his gut like acid, and his muscles hummed with tension and anticipation. Other men had used this camouflaged blind to hunt deer. Victor hunted a man. A traitor. A liability to his family, his livelihood, his freedom.

Last year, Connor Mansfield had found evidence of Gale Industries’ side business, had stolen company records to show the FBI and had testified for the prosecution at William Gale’s trial. Mansfield’s betrayal had cost Victor’s father everything. For that, Mansfield had to pay. He had to be silenced. He had to die.

Their father had taken the fall for the family to protect Victor and his brother, James, so retribution against Connor Mansfield fell to his sons. Victor relished the duty.

As quietly as the mist curled through the woods, Victor tracked Mansfield’s progress from his truck to the small cabin, a hunting camp deep in the pine forest of central Louisiana, waiting for a clear shot through the trees. He had to take Mansfield out before he went inside.

Before he lost his chance.

Mansfield hesitated at the cabin door as if reluctant to go inside, but a fat cypress obscured Victor’s line of sight. Damn it!

When Mansfield finally slipped inside and out of view, Victor growled his frustration and spit on the ground. He might not get another shot for hours, not until Mansfield left the camp. Unless...

Victor considered approaching the ramshackle cabin, peeking in the window and shooting Mansfield from closer range. But he risked being seen or heard, tipping Mansfield off, leaving evidence near the scene that could trace the kill back to him.

No. Better to have patience. Wait him out. Catch Mansfield when—

A deafening blast rocked the woods as the cabin erupted in a massive fireball.

The concussion of the explosion knocked Victor off his feet. Rang painfully in his ears. Thundered in his chest.

Debris rained down around him, piercing the thin walls of the hunter’s blind and stinging his skin when it hit. When all fell quiet again and his shock eased, he scrambled to his knees to peer out the blind’s slit of a window.

The cabin Mansfield had just entered was in ruin, the remnants ablaze. Stunned by the turn of events, Victor stared, his head buzzing from adrenaline and the damage of the loud blast.

Finally he pulled out his cell phone and punched in his brother’s number.

“Is it done?” James asked without preamble.

“Yeah, but...I didn’t do it.”

“What are you saying?”

“The freakin’ cabin exploded. Maybe a gas line leak that went up when he hit the light switch?” Victor shook his head, still gawking at the carnage. “No way he survived that blast.”

Silence answered him.

“Did ya hear me, man?”

James’s sigh rattled through the phone. “Yeah. I guess fate took its own revenge.”

Victor grunted, a tickle of suspicion pricking his neck. “Maybe, but...I don’t like it. I smell a setup.”

“What kind of setup?”

“Don’t know, but...I think I’ll stay and watch the place. See who shows up—whether they recover a body—how this gets handled.” Victor pinched the bridge of his nose, dreading the long hours of sitting cramped in the hunter’s blind, getting eaten by mosquitoes. But he had to be sure.

“Fine,” his older brother said. “I want a full report of everyone and everything that happens out there the rest of the day.”

Resigned to the task and more mosquito bites, Victor stayed and watched as the cops and fire department arrived and put out the flames. Grim-faced men in FBI jackets came next. A coroner’s hearse hauled away a body bag. And an attractive redhead drove up, broke down in hysterical tears and was stopped from approaching the smoldering remains of the cabin by two FBI agents.

When the scene was deserted several hours later, Victor rolled his aching shoulders and dialed James again to report in. “Did Mansfield have a girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” James said. “A redhead. Name’s Darby something. Kent, I think. Yeah, Darby Kent.”

“She showed up. Seemed pretty torn up about his death.”

James grunted, then fell silent again for several nerve-racking seconds.

Victor braced himself. He knew what was coming next.

“Find Darby. Follow her. See if she meets up with him. If the explosion was part of a setup, she’s the key to bringing him outta hiding.”

“You want me to take her out?”

“Naw. She’s nothing to us. But if she meant anything to him, and he’s still alive—”

Victor glanced at the burned-out husk of the cabin. His brother had a point. Family had always been Mansfield’s weakness. But Victor disagreed with James on one point. If Mansfield was still alive, pulling a hoax, Victor wasn’t as squeamish as his brother about collateral damage. If Darby Kent led him to Mansfield, he’d kill them both.

Chapter 1

Four and a half years later—Dallas

Sam Orlean looked up from his laptop when he heard a knock on his office door.

His boss at Tri-State Insurance strode in and slapped several files on his desk. “These just came in. They’re Roy’s accounts, but he’s on vacation. All three have reached over a hundred thousand in claims in the past month and need a policy review, follow-up calls.”

Sam glanced at the sticky note on the top file that Roy had left.

Male, 87, two weeks in intensive care—complications from flu

Female, 3, cancer

Sam’s gut wrenched. The cases that involved children were always the toughest to handle. The third notation read:

Woman, 37, staph infection post-hysterectomy— extended hospital stay

Sam’s job didn’t usually include medical claim reviews. He was in the auto claims department, but the company was small enough that covering for a different department wasn’t unusual.

“What exactly am I looking for in the review?” he asked.

“Just look at the paperwork, check for duplicate charges, tests run without supporting documentation from the doctor. Just make sure everything we’ve been billed for is on the up-and-up.” His boss gave a little wave as he left. “Have fun.”

Sam leaned forward to drag the files closer, gritting his teeth in frustration. Days like today, he really hated the job the U.S. Marshals arranged for him. In his old life, when he’d been an accountant, he’d dealt with numbers. Numbers made sense. But insurance meant factoring in people—little girls with cancer and old men dying from complications from the flu. Even auto claims often mean human suffering. Spouses killed by drunk drivers, reckless teens who learned hard lessons and would never walk again.

Given any other feasible option, Sam would leave this job. He’d complained to Marshals Jones and Raleigh before, requesting a new position doing something else, and was given the bureaucratic runaround. His new identity couldn’t bear any resemblance to his old one. New name, new hobbies, new hometown. New career.

As they had when he entered the program, his handlers had fed him the line that went, “no Witness Security Program participant, who has followed security guidelines, has been harmed while under the active protection of the U.S. Marshals.” Translation: if you want to live, stop complaining and do what you’re told.

Acid gnawed Sam’s gut as he shuffled the files and opened the one on the case that would be toughest. Three-year-old girl with leukemia. Chemotherapy started. Doctors placed child on bone marrow transplant list. No match found on maternal side of family. Father deceased. No siblings. One paternal uncle was a partial match, but her doctors were still hoping for a closer match from the donor registry.

Sam sighed. He’d heard how rare it was to find a bone marrow donor with enough matching genetic markers outside of a patient’s immediate family. The poor kid and her mother were facing an uphill battle. A heartbreaking fight against an ugly disease.

His chest tightening with sympathy, he flipped the page and found the policy history.

Date policy purchased: January 18 of last year.