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The Stranger Next Door
Joanna Wayne
Branson, Langley and Ryder: Randolph brothers, family men, larger-than-life Texans. Flesh and blood bind them to each other–and to a myster baby girl. One is her father…all are her protectors.A beautiful woman with dangerous secrets was about to become the Randolphs' neighbour. She was a vulnerable stranger who'd make any red-blooded male take notice…and Langley Randolph was no exception.Dependable, solid and timeless, like the family ranch that had been passed down through generations, Langley couldn't bear to see a desperate woman fighting tears. Danielle needed the strength of the stalwart rancher next door to unlock the mystery of her memories…before a killer caught up with her first.
A man could take only so much temptation
The house was quiet except for the pounding of Langley’s heart. He had told himself over and over the reasons he shouldn’t make love to Danielle, but right now he couldn’t remember one of them. He couldn’t think at all, not with her mouth on his. His body was going crazy with a hunger that robbed him of control and scared him to death.
She wanted him. He wanted her, wanted her so desperately that just her kiss seared into his very soul. He couldn’t understand his feelings for her. They had come on so fast and so strong, so different from anything he’d experienced before. All he knew was that he had to make love with her before they had no time left.…
Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,
Sunscreen, a poolside lounge—and Harlequin Intrigue: the perfect recipe for great summer escapes!
This month’s sizzling selection begins with The Stranger Next Door (#573) by Joanna Wayne, the second in her RANDOLPH FAMILY TIES miniseries. Langley Randolph is the kind of Texan who can’t resist a woman in trouble. Can he help unlock a beautiful stranger’s memories…before a killer catches up with her first?
Little Penny Drake is an Innocent Witness (#574) to a murder in this suspenseful yet tender story by Leona Karr. The child’s desperate mother, Deanna, seeks the help of Dr. Steve Sherman. Can Steve unlock her daughter’s secrets…and Deanna’s heart?
Dr. Jonas Shades needs a woman to play his wife. Cathlynn O’Connell is the perfect candidate, but with time running out, he has no choice but to blackmail his bride. Each minute in Jonas’s presence brings Cathlynn closer to understanding her enigmatic “husband” and closer to danger! Don’t miss Blackmailed Bride (#575) by Sylvie Kurtz.
Bestselling Harlequin American Romance author Tina Leonard joins Harlequin Intrigue with a story of spine-tingling suspense and dramatic romance. She’s created the small town of Crookseye Canyon, Texas, as the backdrop for A Man of Honor (#576). Cord Greer must marry his brother’s woman to keep her and her unborn baby safe. But is it fear that drives Tessa Draper into Cord’s arms, or is it something more than Cord had hoped for?
Indulge yourself and find out this summer—and all year long!
Sincerely,
Denise O’Sullivan
Associate Senior Editor
Harlequin Intrigue
The Stranger Next Door
Joanna Wayne
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Everyone loves a cowboy, and Joanna Wayne is no exception. Although she lives just a few miles from steamy, exciting New Orleans, she always enjoys her trips to the neighboring state of Texas. While there, she delights in becoming just one of the hands. From riding the range to rounding up cattle by helicopter, she finds plenty to keep her busy and lots of wonderful plot ideas to enhance her stories of romance and suspense. She is sure that as long as there are rugged men who love their cattle, their land and their lifestyle, there will be women who fall in love with them. The fact that the cowboys look so sexy in their boots, jeans and Stetsons is only icing on the cake. You can write to Joanna at P.O. Box 2851, Harvey, LA 70059.
Books by Joanna Wayne
HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE
288—DEEP IN THE BAYOU
339—BEHIND THE MASK
389—EXTREME HEAT
444—FAMILY TIES* (#litres_trial_promo)
471—JODIE’S LITTLE SECRETS
495—ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS
505—LONE STAR LAWMAN
537—MEMORIES AT MIDNIGHT
569—THE SECOND SON* (#litres_trial_promo)
573—THE STRANGER NEXT DOOR* (#litres_trial_promo)
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Danielle—A sexy Cajun lady with a past she can’t remember and a killer on her trail.
Langley Randolph—The neighboring rancher who’ll do whatever he has to in order to keep Danielle safe.
Ryder Randolph—Langley’s younger brother. He likes Danielle, but is afraid she will cause Langley trouble.
Milton Maccabbee—Danielle’s uncle and the owner of the Running Deer Ranch, which borders the Randolph spread. He’s dead but still luring Danielle into a web of danger.
Joshua Kincaid—He has his fingers in a lot of pies and they may not all be legal.
Wade Hernandez—Joshua Kincaid’s ranch foreman, but he may be following his own agenda.
Samuel Drummer—He’s afraid of losing his fiancé.
Corky Westmorland—Milton’s stepson. He wants the Running Deer for himself.
Riff—The cantankerous old ranch hand who shows up where you least expect him.
A special thanks to Dr. Cavanaugh and his lovely wife, Donna, for always taking the time to answer my plot-related medical questions. To my grandchildren, who just by being themselves, inspire me to create adorable fictional children. And to Wayne, always.
Contents
Prologue (#u16e26510-775d-50c6-ac6e-231c8bceda22)
Chapter One (#u3ced0f51-f75d-54c4-96fe-885017ad872c)
Chapter Two (#u9460bf65-7d95-54bf-b11f-da7eec3ed87a)
Chapter Three (#ua80fa8f2-9673-58f6-857d-06cd285313bd)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
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)
Prologue
Danielle strolled down a side street of the famed New Orleans French Quarter. She shifted the bulk of her packages from one shoulder to the other and stretched the muscles in her neck. She was tired from the tips of her toes to the top of her head, but it was a good kind of tired. She’d spent the day sightseeing and shopping.
And, of course, eating. Sugary beignets, steaming café au lait, shrimp po-boy sandwiches. By late afternoon, when she’d finally eaten and shopped her way from Jackson Square to the far end of Royal Street, she’d ducked into an open-air café and treated herself to a rum-and-punch drink that tasted far more innocent than it felt. She was just a tad giddy now, ready for a quick shower before she collapsed in front of the TV.
By this time tomorrow, she’d be in Kelman, Texas. She’d be opening long-shut closets and rattling family skeletons that might be better left hidden away. She’d have been there today if she’d known her friend Beth was going to have to rush out of town on an unexpected family emergency. But there was no reason to change her flight plans. The day’s break gave her a chance to spend time in one of her favorite cities.
She stopped at the corner to get her bearings. Her hotel was nearby—at least she thought it was. Fishing in her pocket, she pulled out the map she’d picked up at the hotel. She unfolded it, manhandling the unwieldy square of paper until she could catch enough illumination from the streetlight.
Running her finger down the crease, she located the X that marked the location of the hotel. It was two blocks west of where she was standing and one block back toward the river. About two blocks more than she felt like walking but not far enough to justify taking a taxi.
She turned down the side street, the most direct route. It was the same street she’d taken this morning when she’d left the hotel, but it looked different at dusk. Without the warming glow of the sun, the century-old buildings were stark and intimidating. Worse, the daytime crowd had gone home and the night revelers hadn’t appeared on the scene.
Actually, there was no one around except a skinny guy leaning against a balcony support post a few yards in front of her. He stared at her openly and then took the cigarette that dangled from his mouth and dropped it to the street, grinding it beneath the toe of his scuffed shoe.
The concierge’s warning ran through her mind. The Quarter is safe as long as you stay on the main streets, the ones populated with tourists.
Apprehension quickened her pulse. She considered going back the way she had come, but the man turned and disappeared inside a doorway right behind him.
She stopped at the corner, then crossed the street. One more block to the river. A boat whistle blasted in the distance. A series of car horns blared from the direction of Canal Street and footsteps sounded behind her. She spun around just as a man’s arm wrapped around her neck.
“Let go of me!” His fist pounded against her skull. She stamped her feet and tried to twist free, but the man’s grip was like iron. “Who are you? What do you want?”
He hit her again, and then she saw the blade of his knife. She kicked and tried to jerk away as he aimed it toward her chest. He missed his mark, but not completely. The blood was dripping from her side, running down her skirt and legs. She stretched her neck to get a glimpse of her attacker’s face. But he wore a ridiculous Mardi Gras mask. All she could see were his eyes. Cold. Angry.
Her head was spinning. Her eyes refused to focus. And still he was hitting her with his horrible fists and dragging her away. Black walls closed in around her. And she was falling. Falling…falling…
And finally there was…nothing.
Chapter One
Langley Randolph ducked out of the rain and into the front door of Gus’s Corner Café. He shook the moisture from his Stetson hat and stamped the mud from his boots.
“Not a fit night out for man nor beast,” Gus called from behind the counter. He wiped his hands on the white work apron that stretched over his ample paunch. “What brings you into town?”
“Work. The storm triggered the alarm at Higgins’s Supermarket. I expected as much, but I had to eyeball the place and make certain it was nothing else.”
“Higgins needs to shell out a little cash and update that system. His alarm goes off if the wind blows crooked. Still, I’m glad for your company. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“You can.” Langley shed his jacket and tossed it over one of the spare hooks supplied for the purpose. “I can use the caffeine. I’ve got a little more work to do before I can call it a night.”
“Looks like you’re serious about your temporary stint as sheriff.”
“Not by choice. I’ll take my cud-chewing critters to trouble-causing humans any day.”
“Well, you can’t blame your brother for wanting a honeymoon. If I had a wife half as pretty as Lacy, I might even chuck my boots under the bed and pull on one of them flowered Hi-waiian shirts.”
“Yeah, well, it would take more than a woman for me to wear that getup.”
“You just haven’t met the right woman yet. Everyone said Branson would never take the plunge and he was grinnin’ like a mule eatin’ thistles when the preacher tightened that marriage knot around his neck.”
“That was Branson. This is me.” Langley settled onto a bar stool at the counter.
“This is a new brand of coffee,” Gus said, setting a mug of steaming brew in front of Langley. “All the big restaurants in San Antonio have switched to it. At least that’s what my supplier said.”
Langley tried it while Gus watched.
“How’s it taste?” he asked before Langley placed the cup back on the counter.
“Like a new brand.”
“I mean, do you like it?”
“It’s coffee. I liked the old brand just fine.”
“You’re stuck in your ways, Langley Randolph. Do you know that?” Gus leaned over the table and wiped at a stain that didn’t want to give up. “Just plain stuck in your ways about everything except your cows. You got to have all the latest breeding methods on your ranch, but you want everything else about your life to stay the same. That’s why you don’t have a wife.”
“Right. So how about one of those same old cheeseburgers you make? And a side of those same old onion rings?”
Gus grinned. “Well, at least you’ve got good taste. I’ll fix me one and join you. I doubt I’ll get any more paying customers tonight in this downpour. Everybody’s home propping their feet under their own table.”
“Yeah. Too bad we didn’t get this rain about August when my grass was dying from the drought.”
“Well, then we wouldn’t be living in south Texas, would we?”
Gus grabbed a couple of beef patties from the cooler and plopped them onto the hot grill. They spit and sputtered, and Langley’s stomach reacted appropriately. He’d have preferred to be one of the folks with their feet stretched under their own table tonight, but if he had to be out, Gus was as good company as any. Actually, better than most he’d talked to today. At least Gus didn’t have any complaints he wanted to report to the acting sheriff.
