Shawna Delacorte – In His Safekeeping (страница 1)
Shawna Delacorte
In His Safekeeping
“We need to get something clear right now, Tara.”
Brad’s words were very matter-of-fact, his attitude all business. “I expect to have my instructions obeyed without hesitation or questions. Your life could depend on your immediate response to my orders.”
Tara glared angrily at him, but he stood his ground and refused to back down. Brad Harrison had her confused. He was a virtual stranger who had burst uninvited into her world, tried to take control of her life and demanded that she trust him. Yet his unwavering gaze sent a ripple of desire through her body unlike anything she had ever experienced. There was a lot more at stake here than a question of control.
Every time he touched her, a sensual rush coursed through her body. It was totally inappropriate for the situation and equally out of character for her. But for reasons she could not clearly fathom, she had made the decision to tentatively trust this very sexy and desirable man. Hopefully it would not be the biggest mistake of her life…or worse yet, the last decision she would ever make.
Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,
Harlequin Intrigue has four new stories to blast you out of the winter doldrums. Look what we’ve got heating up for you this month.
Sylvie Kurtz brings you the first in her two-book miniseries FLESH AND BLOOD. Fifteen years ago, a burst of anger by the banks of the raging Red Thunder River changed the lives of two brothers forever. In
You can also look for the second book in the four-book continuity series MORIAH’S LANDING –
In
And finally this month, one by one government witnesses who put away a mob associate have been killed, with only Tara Ford remaining. U.S. Deputy Marshal Brad Harrison vows to protect Tara by placing her
We hope you enjoy these books, and remember to come back next month for more selections from MORIAH’S LANDING and FLESH AND BLOOD!
In His Safekeeping Shawna Delacorte
www.millsandboon.co.uk
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Shawna Delacorte has delayed her move to Washington State, staying in the Midwest in order to spend some additional time with family. She still travels as often as time permits, and is looking forward to visiting several new places during the upcoming year while continuing to devote herself to writing full-time. Shawna would appreciate hearing from her readers. She can be reached at 6505 E. Central #300, Wichita, KS 67206-1924.
To Marilee
We’ll all miss you
Chapter One
A car pulled into the driveway, drawing Brad Harrison’s attention back to the house he had been watching. The woman climbing out of the car matched his photograph of Tara Ford and then some. The photo definitely did not do her justice. For one thing, it was only a head shot and didn’t reveal the fantastic body that went along with that gorgeous face. He scanned her personal information in his file – twenty-nine years old, five foot seven, auburn hair, hazel eyes and not married.
He watched as she bent over to retrieve the sack of groceries from the trunk of her car. Her tailored slacks hugged the curve of her hip without being obvious and the soft knit of her sweater rested gently against her breasts. He took a deep breath to break the tightness that pulled across his chest, but it didn’t help much.
She was certainly beautiful, but that didn’t tell him how she got involved with John Vincent. Was she really the innocent bystander she
He snapped to attention, quickly dismissing his personal thoughts and becoming all business when he saw her nervously glance up and down the street. He unzipped his jacket for easy access to the 9mm semiautomatic handgun, but did not remove it from the clip-on belt holster. Her gaze fell on him for a second or two, causing him to crease his forehead in concentration. She appeared to be searching for something, her apprehension marring her delicately sculpted features. It was not the type of thing he would expect from someone who didn’t have any worries.
The tension knotted in his stomach as he continued to watch her house. The uncertainty of how to proceed weighed heavily on him. The last remnants of daylight faded. He had seen everything he could. He started his car and slowly pulled away from the curb with his headlights off.
TARA FORD CAUTIOUSLY peeked out from behind the miniblinds at the kitchen window. The man who had been sitting in the car parked across the street was gone. She wished she had gotten a better look at his face, but was afraid to stare for fear he would suspect she had noticed him. For the past few weeks she had been plagued by an uncomfortable sensation that someone was watching her, but this was the first time she had actually seen who it might be.
She wanted to believe it was her imagination, a residual effect from the turmoil of being one of the key witnesses at John Vincent’s trial. Her portion of the testimony dealt with information she had discovered while employed by Green Valley Construction – the looting of his company’s pension fund and the income he had hidden from the Internal Revenue Service. But the testimony of other witnesses showing his bookmaking operation, loan-sharking and ties to organized crime had come as a complete surprise to her. That had been six months ago. John Vincent had been convicted and sent to prison. For a while everything seemed to be okay. She thought she had put the nightmare behind her. A little tremor of anxiety rippled across her skin. She wasn’t so sure anymore.
The ringing phone startled her out of her thoughts. She placed her hand on the receiver, then froze as a shiver of trepidation darted up her back. She was sure it was another of those calls where someone was there but no one said anything. She had been plagued with a rash of them over the past few weeks. On the fifth ring she finally picked up the receiver. The apprehension churned in her stomach before she could even say anything.
“Hello.” She heard someone breathing. She spoke louder, trying to force a calm control to her voice. “Hello…is anyone there?”
“Tara…it’s Danny.”
The shock left her momentarily speechless. Danny Vincent. John Vincent’s thirty-four-year-old nephew – and her ex-fiancé.
An odd combination of irritation and relief passed through her. It wasn’t her anonymous caller, but it was the last person she wanted to hear from. Her displeasure forced its way into her voice. “How did you get my unlisted phone number?”
“Well, I have to admit that it took a little doing. First I had to find out where you had moved.”
Her anxiety level increased. “Have you been following me and making anonymous phone calls?”
“Following you? Anonymous phone calls? What are you talking about? I only discovered where you were living a few days ago and just got your phone number yesterday.”
Her exasperation traveled the phone line as she spoke. “What do you want, Danny?”
“I thought we might have dinner. Are you free tomorrow night?”
“No. I’m not free tomorrow night or any other night. It’s over between us. I thought that should have been obvious when I broke off our engagement.”
“Just a friendly little dinner. Surely that couldn’t hurt anything.”
A new wariness rose inside her. Why now? Why after all this time should he suddenly have the urge to track her down and want to have dinner? Especially when her testimony at his uncle’s trial helped get him convicted.