скачать книгу бесплатно
Showdown!
Laurie Paige
ONLY ONE WOMAN HAD A MARK LIKE HERSOr so Sheriff Zack Dalton had thought. Still, even with the promise of a long-lost family, it took all of his persuasion to convince vulnerable siren Honey Carrington to visit his mountain ranch. Only when he had her home in his arms did he admit he wasn't sure who the mysterious beauty was–or what secrets she harbored.Honey knew she wasn't the woman the Daltons had been searching for, and considering the way her heart raced whenever Zack was near, that was good! But she was desperate for a place to hide so she went along with the scheme. Still, could she really risk her life–and her heart–just to keep her secret safe?
“My room has a private entrance.”
The silence arced between them, intense and urgent, as compelling as the fire blazing in his eyes. With him, she would find sweet fulfillment.
It would be bliss. And it would be based on lies. Tomorrow always came and with it the reckoning she’d come to expect. Then whatever they’d shared would be lost, one more thing to remember with regret….
“What troubles you so?” he asked.
“Us,” she admitted. “And all that it implies.”
“Which is?”
She turned from his scrutiny. “I don’t know.”
He nodded as if he understood. “Sometimes things move too fast. There are too many questions.”
The questions pertained to her. She clenched her hands and wished she could tell him everything—all her worries, her yearnings, her dreams.
He let off the brake and made the turn onto the road home. His home, not hers. She must remember that.
Dear Reader,
Your best bet for coping with April showers is to run—not walk—to your favorite retail outlet and check out this month’s lineup. We’d like to highlight popular author Laurie Paige and her new miniseries SEVEN DEVILS. Laurie writes, “On my way to a writers’ conference in Denver, I spotted the Seven Devils Mountains. This had to be checked out! Sure enough, the rugged, fascinating land proved to be ideal for a bunch of orphans who’d been demanding that their stories be told.” You won’t want to miss Showdown!, the second book in the series, which is about a barmaid and a sheriff destined for love!
Gina Wilkins dazzles us with Conflict of Interest, the second book in THE MCCLOUDS OF MISSISSIPPI series, which deals with the combustible chemistry between a beautiful literary agent and her ruggedly handsome and reclusive author. Can they have some fun without love taking over the relationship? Don’t miss Marilyn Pappano’s The Trouble with Josh, which features a breast cancer survivor who decides to take life by storm and make the most of everything—but she never counts on sexy cowboy Josh Rawlins coming into the mix.
In Peggy Webb’s The Mona Lucy, a meddling but well-meaning mother attempts to play Cupid to her son and a beautiful artist who is painting her portrait. Karen Rose Smith brings us Expecting the CEO’s Baby, an adorable tale about a mix-up at the fertility clinic and a marriage of convenience between two strangers. And in Lisette Belisle’s His Pretend Wife, an accident throws an ex-con and an ex-debutante together, making them discover that rather than enemies, they just might be soul mates!
As you can see, we have a variety of stories for our readers, which explore the essentials—life, love and family. Stay tuned next month for six more top picks from Special Edition!
Sincerely,
Karen Taylor Richman
Senior Editor
Showdown!
Laurie Paige
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To the Redding bunch—for the laughs, the sharing and the wedding from you-know-where. It was a riot!
LAURIE PAIGE
“One of the nicest things about writing romances is researching locales, careers and ideas. In the interst of authenticity, most writers will try anything…once.” Along with her writing adventures, Laurie has been a NASA engineer, a past president of the Romance Writers of America, a mother and a grandmother. She was twice a Romance Writers of America RITA
Award finalist for Best Traditional Romance and has won awards from Romantic Times for Best Silhouette Special Edition and Best Silhouette.
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 One
“Last one,” Zack Dalton reminded Lady Luck, but without much hope the fabled lady would have a change of heart and smile on him.
Huh. His luck with females had been pretty sour lately. A tang of bitterness like the aftertaste of fine wine gone to vinegar lingered on his tongue. He ignored it and the accompanying pang in his heart. He’d trusted one female with that organ and had had it handed back to him last summer when his fiancée had visited relatives in Denver, met some rich guy and married him on the spot.
So much for trust, loyalty and true love.
His uncle Nick said all things happened for the best. Looking at it that way, he figured he’d gotten off easy, heart and pride dinged but repairable.
He fed his last quarter into the slot machine, pushed the button and watched the wheels spin. They came up zilch. Okay, so he wasn’t destined to be rich. That probably was for the best, he consoled himself philosophically, then chuckled at his little jest.
Glancing at the clock, he saw it was midnight. The reason he was at the slots was simple. Las Vegas was truly a city that never slept. It wouldn’t let him catch any zzz’s, either. Too many lights, too many people, too much noise at all hours.
His duty here was done and he could start home tomorrow. He’d better try for some rest, assuming he could find the elevator that would take him from the casino level to his floor far above the neon sparkle of the famous strip. He glanced around, searching for a landmark as a guide.
“You dropped a coin, sir,” a polite voice, very feminine, very soft, spoke from behind his left shoulder.
He swiveled around on the stool and gazed into eyes rimmed by false lashes so long he wondered how the cocktail waitress could lift her eyelids. The lashes cast such deep shadows he couldn’t tell what color her eyes were. The rest of her makeup was just as exaggerated, giving her a fake tan and rosily blushing cheeks that were obviously painted on. Dark roots showed along the uneven part in her blond hair.
While he liked his women more natural, sort of outdoorsy, his interest was piqued by the beauty spot a half inch from one corner of her mouth. Her lips had a full, soft look in spite of the thick lipstick. The fullness coupled with the tiny mole gave her mouth a sort of vulnerability that surprised him.
Even more surprising was his urge to touch her, as if he needed to be sure she was real. He had an instant, equally strong desire to kiss her.
Whoa! He hadn’t had that many beers, at least he didn’t think he had.
“Sir?” she said in that soft voice so at odds with her been-there-done-that appearance.
He took the quarter, dropped it in the slot and hit the spin button as he watched her deliver a drink to a man three machines down. From this view, she looked great.
Her outfit was cut into a provocative drape that left a lot of bare skin. She had smooth shoulders and a small waist, slender hips and firm thighs clad in fishnet hose.
He paused to admire the thighs.
A bell clanged and the sound of falling coins assailed his ears. Other players looked at him, some with envy, some with smiles. Zack frowned at his machine. When he looked around again, the waitress was gone.
“Here, you’ll need a bucket,” the soft voice said, speaking from his right this time. A plastic bucket was plunked down on the narrow ledge between the slots.
“Thanks,” he said, but she was already gone.
A number was flashing on the slot display. His brain seemed swathed in cotton as he tried to divide four into six hundred and come up with the amount of his winnings.
“Boy, howdy, 150 smackers,” the man on his left said jovially, giving him the answer. “Not bad for a couple of hours’ work, huh?”
Actually it was a nice bonus, considering he’d had the unpleasant job of returning an escaped prisoner, captured in Idaho, to Vegas. The deputies had drawn lots on Monday to see who had to do the task and he’d won. Or lost, according to how one looked at it.
Speaking of winning, he realized he owed the waitress a big tip. As he rose, four couples, boisterous and merry, jostled their way down the aisle. One of them hit his arm. Six hundred quarters hit the floor.
“Oops, sorry,” one of the happy group said, not the least bit remorseful. “Hey, great win.”
Five minutes of chaos reigned while they scrambled to pick up the coins and toss them back into his bucket. Since there was no room for him to join them, he stood still and watched. The men and women, bobbing up and down as they worked, reminded him of the chickens his uncle Nick insisted on raising back at the Seven Devils Ranch.
He patiently waited until the noisy couples finished and left, apologizing loudly for the trouble they’d caused. When the aisle cleared, a shapely derriere was directly in front of him. The waitress was on her knees, retrieving coins from under the adjacent row of slots.
Zack’s eyes widened, then narrowed as he stared at her left thigh just below the skimpy, high-cut costume. He took three steps, then bent down as if he, too, was looking for quarters. From the vantage of a foot away, he could see her upper thigh where it joined the delectable curve of her hip.
Yep, a scar was discernible under the fishnet. He inched closer. The scar was jagged and three-pointed. His lungs stopped working while his heart went into overdrive.
“My gosh,” he muttered, blinking in amazement. Talk about luck; he couldn’t believe this. Lifting one finger, he traced the outline—
“Aaaiii,” the waitress squealed, straightening abruptly.
“Back up, buddy,” a security cop ordered, appearing out of nowhere and grabbing him by the collar. Zack was strong-armed to a standing position. The cop’s partner stood close by, alert for trouble.
“It’s okay,” he assured the cop. “She’s my cousin.”
The security men looked at the woman.
“I’ve never seen him before in my life,” she declared in shocked tones, the painted eyebrows rising indignantly as she moved away from him, the delectable lips compressed in a narrow line.
“That’s true, but I know you,” Zack explained, speaking in reasonable tones and tamping the excitement down. “That scar on your butt, uh, buttock, uh, thigh is a dead giveaway.”
“We’ll take care of him,” the cop told the woman.
She disappeared into the crowd while Zack was held and questioned by the patrol. “You staying here?” the older one asked.
“Yeah.”
“You need help getting to your room?”
“I’m not leaving,” he told them firmly. “Now that I’ve found Uncle Nick’s daughter, I’ve got to take her home. To the ranch,” he added in case they misunderstood where he meant. “Seven Devils Mountains. Idaho.”
“Detank,” one of the security patrol said.
“Right. You want me to report it?” the other man asked. “It’s Friday. You’re supposed to leave early tonight.”
The first man sighed. “I’ll do it when I sign out.”
Zack realized the futility of protesting as they led him to a private room down a narrow corridor off the elevator area. He was vaguely amused as he thought of possible headlines: Visiting cop busted in a casino for looking at a woman’s—
The rest of the thought was lost as the door slammed behind him and locked. He realized two things. One, “detank” was a place for inebriated clients to sleep it off. Two, they thought he fit that description.
Apparently he hadn’t explained himself well enough. He was now trapped in the proverbial padded cell. A leather sofa and chair were the only furnishings. He sat down to wait for some form of rescue, his bucket of quarters still clenched in one hand.
One thing he noticed right away: it was quiet in here. No traffic. No sirens. No bursts of laughter or strange voices outside his bedroom door. Just blissful silence.
He yawned. In the four days he’d been on this trip, he hadn’t had a full night’s sleep due to all the racket.
Hannah “Honey” Carrington finished her shift at two in the morning. She turned in her cash, then went to the locker room. After tucking the money apron onto a shelf, she changed shoes and pulled a shirt and long skirt over her working outfit. Grabbing her purse, she headed out, glad to be going home.
“Hey, Bert,” she said to the security guard who was also going off duty.
“Hey, Honey,” the guard said.
“Say, what happened to the guy who was in the casino?” she asked. “The one who said he was my cousin,” she added with a sardonic smile. She’d heard a few lines in her time, but that had been a new one.
Bert frowned. “I don’t know. Bill took care of it.” Alarm spread over his face. “Uh-oh.”
“What?”
“Bill. He got a call just after we left you. His wife is having a baby. That’s why he was supposed to leave early. I sure hope—” He broke off and headed toward the elevators at a near run.
Although instinct said she should go home and not get involved, Honey trailed after him. The tall lanky stranger had been polite in his dealings with her. He was handsome, and she’d found him interesting. There had been an amused gentleness about him—as if he laughed at life’s vagaries.
Then he’d made the peculiar crack about being cousins. That had put her on guard and reminded her that, for her own good, she should be more cynical about people.
