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A Man Apart
Ginna Gray
HE WAS THE MOST MAGNIFICENT MAN SHE'D EVER ENCOUNTEREDMaude Ann knew she was in trouble when wounded detective Matthew Dolan was sent to Henley Haven to recuperate. The nurturing foster mom couldn't afford to fall for another man in blue, yet Matt's piercing eyes and gut-wrenching loneliness stirred something deep inside of her. Now it wasn't a question of if she'd surrender to their electrifying passion but when…
“I’m not another one of your wounded chicks that you can cluck over and mother,”
Matt warned. “I’m a man, with a man’s appetites.”
His gaze dropped to her chest, and his eyes darkened. Maude Ann was about to protest, but instead a downward glance made her gasp. The front of her gown and robe were still sopping wet, and the thin fabric clung to her body like a second skin.
“Right now I’m not in any shape to do anything about those appetites, but I will be soon,” he said. “Remember that the next time you come waltzing in here uninvited. You may get more than you bargained for.”
Blushing from her hairline to her toes, Maude Ann stammered, “I—I was only trying to help.”
“Oh? Is that what you were doing just now?
Helping me…?”
Dear Reader,
Welcome to a spectacular month of great romances as we continue to celebrate Silhouette’s 20th Anniversary all year long!
Beloved bestselling author Nora Roberts returns with Irish Rebel, a passionate sequel to her very first book, Irish Thoroughbred. Revisit the spirited Grant family as tempers flare, sparks fly and love ignites between the newest generation of Irish rebels!
Also featured this month is Christine Flynn’s poignant THAT’S MY BABY! story, The Baby Quilt, in which a disillusioned, high-powered attorney finds love and meaning in the arms of an innocent young mother.
Silhouette reader favorite Joan Elliott Pickart delights us with her secret baby story, To a MacAllister Born, adding to her heartwarming cross-line miniseries, THE BABY BET. And acclaimed author Ginna Gray delivers the first compelling story in her series, A FAMILY BOND, with A Man Apart, in which a wounded loner lawman is healed heart, body and soul by the nurturing touch of a beautiful, compassionate woman.
Rounding off the month are two more exciting ongoing miniseries. From longtime author Susan Mallery, we have a sizzling marriage-of-convenience story, The Sheik’s Secret Bride, the third book in her DESERT ROGUES series. And Janis Reams Hudson once again shows her flair for Western themes and Native American heroes with The Price of Honor, a part of her miniseries, WILDERS OF WYATT COUNTY.
It’s a terrific month of page-turning reading from Special Edition. Enjoy!
All the best,
Karen Taylor Richman
Senior Editor
A Man Apart
Ginna Gray
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Books by Ginna Gray
Silhouette Special Edition
Golden Illusion #171
The Heart’s Yearning #265
Sweet Promise #320
Cristen’s Choice #373
* (#litres_trial_promo)Fools Rush In #416
* (#litres_trial_promo)Where Angels Fear #468
If There Be Love #528
* (#litres_trial_promo)Once in a Lifetime #661
* (#litres_trial_promo)A Good Man Walks In #722
* (#litres_trial_promo)Building Dreams #792
* (#litres_trial_promo)Forever #854
* (#litres_trial_promo)Always #891
The Bride Price #973
Alissa’s Miracle #1117
* (#litres_trial_promo)Meant for Each Other #1221 † (#litres_trial_promo) A Man Apart #1330
Silhouette Romance
The Gentling #285
The Perfect Match #311
Heart of the Hurricane #338
Images #352
First Love, Last Love #374
The Courtship of Dani #417
Sting of the Scorpion #826
Silhouette Books
Silhouette Christmas Stories 1987
“Season of Miracles”
GINNA GRAY
A native Houstonian, Ginna Gray admits that, since childhood, she has been a compulsive reader as well as a head-in-the-clouds dreamer. Long accustomed to expressing her creativity in tangible ways—Ginna also enjoys painting and needlework—she finally decided to try putting her fantasies and wild imaginations down on paper. The result? The mother of two now spends eight hours a day as a full-time writer.
Contents
Chapter One (#u518024e5-adc0-5ed4-be3f-622dd6a91840)
Chapter Two (#u6f4b2dcd-3d92-5a9a-83ad-c67b37d01979)
Chapter Three (#ua9dfe7e6-cd3a-52de-98dc-0aee4586401f)
Chapter Four (#u9c213f5a-729e-54d6-a951-913766c0491b)
Chapter Five (#uc5c01838-ea49-5ae6-8fdc-30b5eeec4ef0)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
More than a dozen policemen stood vigil in the corridor outside the hospital operating room. Every few minutes, more officers arrived to join the silent watch. When one of their own took a hit, the men and women in blue rallied around.
Less than an hour earlier, the frantic call had gone out over the police radio frequency.
“Shots fired! Shots fired! Officer down! We need assistance!”
Within seconds, every available man and woman on the Houston police force had raced to aid the besieged detectives at the scene of a drug bust gone bad.
Now, grim-faced and tense, those same men and women waited for news of their fellow officer’s condition.
John Werner and Hank Pierson, the two men who were closest to the wounded officer, paced like caged lions, their faces dark and stony.
Guilt and worry ate at Hank like sharp-toothed animals. Dammit, it was his duty to protect his partner’s back, and he had let Matt down. Now he might die. Matt had taken two bullets, and for that he blamed himself. Under a hail of automatic weapons’ fire, hunkered down behind their squad car, he had radioed in the frantic call for assistance and fired random shots at the attackers over the hood of the vehicle, but beyond that he had been helpless.
Hank suddenly stopped pacing, and with an oath, he slammed the side of his fist against the wall. Several of the other policemen eyed him askance, but no one said a word.
Lieutenant Werner understood his detective’s frustration and ignored the outburst.
As chief of detectives, John Werner felt a personal responsibility for every man and woman on his squad, but he shared a special friendship with the wounded officer. John had gone through the police academy with Matt’s father. Patrick Dolan had been John’s best friend and one of the finest officers the city had ever had.
That it was Matt Dolan who had been shot had spread like wildfire through the Houston Police Department. The news had stunned everyone and left them shaken. Matt was a smart, straight-arrow, tough cop, a twelve-year veteran on the force. He had seemed invincible.
The double doors of the operating room swung open and every officer in the hallway sprang to attention. A middle-aged man dressed in green scrubs emerged and flashed a look around at the crowd, meeting the anxious expressions with a grim look.
“I’m Dr. Barnes. Who’s in charge here?” He raked the paper scrub cap off his head and absently massaged the tense muscles in his neck.
“I am.” John Werner stepped forward. Hank edged up beside him. “How is he, Doc?”
“Alive. Just barely. The first bullet nicked his right lung. The second caused severe damage to his right leg. Plus, he lost a lot of blood before he arrived here. He’s a tough nut, though, I’ll give him that. If he weren’t, he’d never have made it this far. But he is in bad shape.”
“I see.” John’s jaw clenched and unclenched for several seconds. At last he asked the question that was foremost on his and every other officer’s mind, the question to which they all dreaded the answer. “Is Matt going to make it, Doc?”
“Barring complications, yes.”
“Thank God for that.”
“Yes, well…I feel it’s only fair to warn you, given the condition of that leg…well…”
“What? What’re you trying to say, Doc?” Hank demanded.
“Just that…well…I think you should know that it’s unlikely he will ever be able to return to police work. At least, not on the streets.”
Matt turned his head on the pillow and gazed out the window at nothing in particular. The lady in the mist had come to him again last night.
The fanciful thought brought a hint of a smile to his stern mouth. Nevertheless, that was how he thought of the recurring dream that had plagued him all his life: a visitation by a phantom figure.
It was strange. For the past fifteen or twenty years he’d had the dream very infrequently—once or twice a year at the most—but since awaking in the hospital two weeks ago, it had been nightly. Not even the sleeping tablets the staff administered so faithfully had helped.
Absently, Matt fingered the jagged fragment of silver that hung from a chain around his neck, his thumb rubbing back and forth over the lines etched on either side. The pie-shaped wedge had been roughly cut from a silver medallion approximately two inches in diameter.
The instant Matt had regained consciousness he’d reached for the piece, and he’d panicked when he discovered it was no longer around his neck.
The medallion piece had been returned to him only because he had threatened to tear the place apart if it wasn’t. The hospital prohibited patients from wearing jewelry of any kind. Matt, however, had worn the medallion fragment since he was a small boy, never taking it off.
Matt’s fingers continued to rub the etched surface and jagged edges. Somehow, merely touching it seemed to soothe him. Particularly after a night of chasing after the lady in the mist.
He smiled again. The lady in the mist. He’d named the dream that years ago. It wasn’t scary or in any way threatening—just him and others he couldn’t identify, chasing through swirling mist after the shadowy figure of a woman, calling out to her, reaching for her as she backed away and disappeared—yet the experience always disturbed him. Invariably, he awoke with a start, his heart pounding. Last night had been no different. He wondered, as he had countless times, if he’d ever decipher the meaning behind the subconscious message.
Pushing the futile thought aside, Matt sighed and focused his attention elsewhere.
The impersonal atmosphere of the hospital made him feel adrift, removed from the world outside, a spectator with no part to play. Which, he supposed, was appropriate, since the life he had built for himself was most likely finished.
