скачать книгу бесплатно
Sudden Alliance
Jackie Manning
A MAN LIKE NO OTHER…When Liam O'Shea found a young beauty on the side of the road, battered and incoherent, his razor-sharp instincts–honed by years of training as an undercover operative–warned she was in trouble. Honor demanded he offer his protection.WITH AN IMPOSSIBLE MISSION!The only witness to an unspeakable murder she couldn't remember, Sara Regis was in danger–with her only hope for survival in Liam's strong arms. Now, as Liam and Sara joined forces to locate a killer, would their sudden alliance withstand the secrets she'd kept locked inside?
“One more thing,” Sara said. “Just because I’ve hired you doesn’t mean I’m going to…sleep with you.”
Bull’s-eye. Arrow straight through Liam’s male ego. Just when he thought he was beginning to figure her out, she threw him another curve.
“What gave you the idea that I wanted to—” Then it hit him. The kiss. Of course. “I’m sorry if I acted inappropriately,” he said, not meaning a word of it. “But as I remember, you kissed me, too.”
Her full lips twitched as she studied him. “Well, now that our curiosity about each other has been satisfied, we should have no more problems sticking to business.”
So she was only satisfying her curiosity, was she?
Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,
August marks a special month at Harlequin Intrigue as we commemorate our twentieth anniversary! Over the past two decades we’ve satisfied our devoted readers’ diverse appetites with a vast smorgasbord of romantic suspense page-turners. Now, as we look forward to the future, we continue to stand by our promise to deliver thrilling mysteries penned by stellar authors.
As part of our celebration, our much-anticipated new promotion, ECLIPSE, takes flight. With one book planned per month, these stirring Gothic-inspired stories will sweep you into an entrancing landscape of danger, deceit…and desire. Leona Karr sets the stage for mind-bending mystery with debut title, A Dangerous Inheritance.
A high-risk undercover assignment turns treacherous when smoldering seduction turns to forbidden love, in Bulletproof Billionaire by Mallory Kane, the second installment of NEW ORLEANS CONFIDENTIAL. Then, peril closes in on two torn-apart lovers, in Midnight Disclosures— Rita Herron’s latest book in her spine-tingling medical research series, NIGHTHAWK ISLAND.
Patricia Rosemoor proves that the fear of the unknown can be a real aphrodisiac in On the List—the fourth installment of CLUB UNDERCOVER. Code blue! Patients are mysteriously dropping like flies in Boston General Hospital, and it’s a race against time to prevent the killer from striking again, in Intensive Care by Jessica Andersen.
To round off an unforgettable month, Jackie Manning returns to the lineup with Sudden Alliance—a woman-in-jeopardy tale fraught with nonstop action…and a lethal attraction!
Join in on the festivities by checking out all our selections this month!
Sincerely,
Denise O’Sullivan
Harlequin Intrigue Senior Editor
Sudden Alliance
Jackie Manning
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jackie Manning wrote and published her first and last newspaper at the age of six. Her editorial career came to a screeching halt when her mother bought the first copy and realized that Jackie had exposed the family secrets. Undaunted, Jackie started making up stories, and she’s been spinning tales ever since. Today, she lives with her husband, Tom (Bert), and their shih tzu, Emperor Foo Foo. Jackie loves to hear from her readers. You can e-mail her at jackie@jackiemanning.com or write to her at P.O. Box 1739, Waterville, ME 04903-1739.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Liam O’Shea—Ex-special forces, now a covert specialist for the TALON-6 Agency, knows everything about danger. But can his highly tuned skills keep the woman he loves from a pair of killers?
Sara Regis—She has no memory of her past. All she knows about her future is that somebody wants her dead.
Trent Sherburne—He wants political power, and he’ll stop at nothing to get it.
Kitty Sherburne—Is she playing a game that’s turning deadly?
Jeremy Regis—The brother Sara can’t remember. Does he have a personal reason to keep a safe distance from her?
Al Ranelli and Francie Zarella—Bellwood Island police officers and childhood friends of Liam O’Shea.
The Ziegler Brothers—Hired hit men. Who paid these killers to hunt Sara down?
The Boss—Who is the man who wants Sara dead, and why?
This book is dedicated to Cheryl Shepard Rissman.
I love you, sis.
Special thanks to two of the dearest friends anyone could have: Susanne MacDonald and Karen Tukovits. I admire you both so much.
Thanks for your support and love.
And to my darling husband. I love you.
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 Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter One
“Holy—” A jolt of adrenaline shot through Liam as he gripped the steering wheel. Was the fog playing tricks on him, or was that really a woman he saw, staggering along the side of the narrow road at almost four in the morning?
The woman froze like a terrified rabbit, her eyes wide with shock as she stared into the car’s headlights. Her face contorted in horror, and when she screamed the sound was as piercing as if the hounds of hell were chasing her. A moment later, she swayed and collapsed to the ground.
Liam swerved the convertible to avoid hitting her, then downshifted into second. With a few deft motions, he spun the Alpha Romeo in a 180-degree turn, tires screeching in the early morning stillness.
The low beams of his car illuminated the sprawled figure lying on the sandy shoulder of the road. Leaping from the vehicle, he lunged toward where she had fallen.
Kneeling beside her, he cradled her head in his lap and brushed long strands of hair from her face. Probing gently, he found an egg-shaped lump near her temple. She moaned when his fingers gently touched the injury, her back arching in pain.
He felt for broken bones and was relieved that despite numerous bloody scratches along her arms and legs—incredibly long and shapely legs—her wounds appeared to be mostly superficial. All except for that bump on the head. She might be suffering from a concussion.
Holding her carefully, he shrugged free of his wind-breaker, then very gently cradled her again, slipping it around her shoulders. As he did so her eyes flew open—enormous green eyes, if the color wasn’t a shadowy trick of the headlights.
Her oval face paled with terror. “No! No! No!” she screamed, fighting him with almost superhuman strength. Her fingers curled as if to scratch him.
Liam released her, afraid to further frighten her, and scooted back. “Hey, lady! I’m one of the good guys. I’m here to help.” As she struggled to her feet, her long hair swung forward, and he saw bits of leaves and twigs embedded in it. The jeans she wore were ripped, and her yellow T-shirt looked as if she’d fought her way out of a bramble bush.
“What happened? Were you in an accident?”
He knew this isolated stretch of dunes, dubbed “lovers’ lane,” was a favorite with the local teenagers. But she looked much older. Twenty-five or so? Still, who could tell? Maybe her boyfriend had dumped her because her answer to Romeo was no. Or, Liam thought with a sickening twist in his gut, had she been raped?
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said gently, setting aside his fury at sick bastards who got their kicks from violating and abusing women. “I have a phone in my car. I’m going to call for help.”
“No!” She screamed the word and stepped back, her hands shielding her eyes from the car’s headlights.
“I want to help you. Are you hurt?” Liam asked, afraid to touch her. He feared she might be going into shock. “Are you alone? Can you tell me what happened?”
Instead of answering, she turned and bolted toward the dunes. But before she had taken three steps, she staggered, struggling for balance. Her arms flailed like a child learning how to ice-skate. Liam rushed to her side just before her knees buckled. He leaned her against his chest and, for a moment, she appeared too weak to protest. Her moist breath fanned his neck as she laid her head against the V of his open sport shirt. He sensed she was only resting long enough to regain her equilibrium, then she’d try to escape once more. Damn, he wished she’d let him help her.
Liam glanced along the deserted dunes that lined the road, hoping for some sign of a car, but all he saw was deepening shadows and fog. He knew that at this time of early morning, in early spring, the chance of someone coming along this stretch of summer cottages was practically nil.
He glanced down at the woman in his arms. “Look, miss,” he said, noticing that she wasn’t wearing a gold band or any kind of ring. Nor was there an indentation on her ring finger from a discarded wedding band. “My sister is a doctor. I’m on my way to see her at the family cottage, a few miles up the road. She can help you.”
“No! Leave me alone.” Her fists rapped his chest in a futile attempt to push him away. He winced inwardly, knowing her protests took every ounce of what little strength she had left.
“You’re in no condition to be alone,” he said, grasping her by the shoulders. “I grew up in these parts and I know that no one lives here this time of year. We’re on a narrow peninsula with an isolated bird sanctuary on one side and the ocean on the other.” His gaze took in her T-shirt and jeans. “You’re not dressed for this weather, either.”
She dragged air into her lungs and lifted her head, gazing blindly into his eyes. The whimpering sound she made at the back of her throat reminded him of a wounded puppy. Something twisted in his gut. She needed his protection, whether she wanted it or not. For a moment she quieted, and he was filled with hope that maybe she understood that he was trying to help her.
He put his arm around her as he led her toward his car. “There, that’s not so bad, is it?” he said. She took several steps beside him, then suddenly jerked away again, as though his touch were deadly. Then she totally collapsed.
GRAVEL CRUNCHED ALONG the driveway as Liam’s convertible pulled to a stop in front of the weathered clapboard cottage at the end of the peninsula. He honked the horn several times. Almost immediately, the porch lights sprang to life, and a blond woman poked her head around the screen door.
“Is that you, Liam?” Dr. Bridget O’Shea Thomas flung open the door and, when he called to her, she wrapped her chenille robe tightly around herself and ran down the steps. A collie lumbered beside her heels, barking a welcome. “Quiet, Bounder!” Bridget ordered, her feet beating a tattoo along the seashell-lined path. “With this fog I didn’t expect you until morning,” she said, “but…” She stopped when she saw Liam wasn’t alone.
His sister sighed. “I wish you’d have told me before bringing a…” Her words trailed off when she saw the woman slumped against Liam’s shoulder, in the front seat of the sports car, apparently asleep.
Liam turned off the ignition, pulled on the emergency brake and turned to the unconscious woman beside him. “Get a bed ready, Bridget. I found her alongside the road. She may be going into shock.”
Bridget ordered the collie back to the porch. Then she dashed around the passenger side of the car and leaned over the woman. Her movements deft and professional, she lifted the woman’s eyelids. “I’ll call Willie,” she said. “Luckily she drove down with me yesterday.”
Liam should have known that Bridget would have brought Dr. Wilhelmina Prescott, the O’Shea family’s long-time friend and summer neighbor since Liam and his sisters were babies.
“Carry her upstairs,” Bridget ordered. “Put her in your room.” The look she gave Liam was cautiously controlled, but he recognized the concern in his sister’s eyes. Without another word, Bridget turned and made a beeline to the cottage.
Carrying the woman, Liam followed his sister up the porch steps. “Are David and the girls here with you?” he asked Bridget, knowing that her husband loved the old family cottage as much as his wife.
“No. Linda had basketball practice and Kathy had a swim meet. David is driving them later this morning.”
When Liam approached the stairway, Bridget called out, “Watch your step. Kate waxed the floors yesterday and they’re as slippery as an ice rink.” Bridget stood on the first-floor landing and punched numbers into her cell phone.
Liam’s boots clomped loudly on the polished oak steps as the familiar smells of furniture wax, mothballs and pine cleaning solution filled his nostrils. As he carried the slight body up the stairs, the woman’s arms dangled lifelessly.
The collie was waiting on the landing, his tail thumping loudly on the floorboards. Then the dog raced excitedly down the hall and whined outside Liam’s closed bedroom door.
“Don’t jump on the bed,” Liam warned as he opened it.
The collie scampered inside and leaped on the bed. Liam scowled at the animal as he pressed the light switch with his elbow. The room sprang to life, and with it memories of his boyhood summers. Army football pennants and posters of rock-and-roll icons shared wall space with models of fighter jets and helicopters.
“Let me help you,” Bridget said as she came up beside him, her medical bag in hand. “I called Willie,” she added, folding back the red plaid bedspread on the double bed.
The injured woman groaned softly as Liam gently laid her down. Against the pristine white sheets, her scratches and cuts stood out like red flags along her arms and legs. Above her right temple, the goose-egg-size lump he’d felt earlier was visible now. Her fingernails were dirty, ripped and bleeding. She moaned, her head thrashing back and forth against the pillows.
“Did she have a purse or any ID?” Bridget asked, fumbling inside her leather medical bag.
“Not that I could see in the car headlights,” Liam said, reaching for the cell phone hooked to his belt. “As soon as it’s light, I’ll go back and check around.”
Bridget inspected the woman’s arms for needle tracks, then flicked back her eyelids, flashing a penlight on and off. “She’s not on drugs, which was my first thought. Nor do I smell alcohol on her breath.” She glanced up. “Who are you calling?”
“The police,” he said as he made his way toward the door. “Maybe she wandered from the scene of an accident. Or maybe there’s a missing persons report out on her.”
“Good idea. I want to get her cleaned up a bit before Willie gets here.”
“Okay,” Liam said, moving toward the door. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.” He stepped into the hall, shutting the door on his way out.
The receptionist at the Bellwood Island Police Department answered on the first ring. “Connect me to Detective Zarella,” Liam said, unable to forget the fear in the woman’s eyes. It had been a long time since he’d seen such terror. Not since Iraq and those fearful dark eyes of women searching for their loved ones among the war casualties. He blocked off the thought when Detective Frances Zarella answered.
