Читать книгу: «The Stolen Bride»
“I’m not here to comfort you. I’m here to keep you alive.”
His breath whispered across her cheek.
“I didn’t realize you’d volunteered to be my bodyguard.” Erin fought the impulse to turn and touch her lips to his.
“I guess I have, by default.” Joseph shifted away. Perhaps he was battling the same urge, she thought. “There’s a positive side to my being on leave. Since I won’t have to work, there’s no danger of leaving you here alone.”
“Does that mean I can stay?” Erin asked, elated. Then guiltily, she added, “But I’m putting you out of your bed. Once I meet with Stanley, I should be able to move somewhere else.”
“If you like, I can put you in touch with a top-level security service.” He fingered a loose strand of her hair. “Or you can stay, if you prefer.”
She did prefer. Very much. “Yes. I’d rather be with you.”
Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,
To chase away those end-of-summer blues, we have an explosive lineup that’s guaranteed to please!
Joanna Wayne leaves goosebumps with A Father’s Duty, the third book in NEW ORLEANS CONFIDENTIAL. In this riveting conclusion, murder, mayhem…and mystique are unleashed in the Big Easy. And that’s just the beginning! Unauthorized Passion, which marks the beginning of Amanda Stevens’ new action-packed miniseries, MATCHMAKERS UNDERGROUND, features a lethally sexy lawman who takes a beautiful imposter into his protective custody. Look for Just Past Midnight by Ms. Stevens from Harlequin Books next month at your favorite retail outlet.
Danger and discord sweep through Antelope Flats when B.J. Daniels launches her western series, MCCALLS’ MONTANA. Will the town ever be the same after a fiery showdown between a man on a mission and The Cowgirl in Question? Next up, the second book in ECLIPSE, our new gothic-inspired promotion. Midnight Island Sanctuary by Susan Peterson—a spine-tingling “gaslight” mystery set in a remote coastal town—will pull you into a chilling riptide.
To wrap up this month’s thrilling lineup, Amy J. Fetzer returns to Harlequin Intrigue to unravel a sinister black-market baby ring mystery in Undercover Marriage. And, finally, don’t miss The Stolen Bride by Jacqueline Diamond—an edge-of-your-seat reunion romance about an amnesiac bride-in-jeopardy who is about to get a crash course in true love.
Enjoy!
Denise O’Sullivan
Senior Editor
Harlequin Intrigue
The Stolen Bride
Jacqueline Diamond
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
The daughter of a doctor and an artist, Jacqueline Diamond claims to have researched the field of obstetrics primarily by developing a large range of complications during her pregnancies. She’s also lucky enough to have a friend and neighbor who’s an obstetrical nurse. The author of more than sixty novels, Jackie lives in Southern California with her husband and two sons. She loves to hear from readers. You can write to her at P.O. Box 1315, Brea, CA 92822, or by e-mail at JDiamondfriends@aol.com.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Erin Marshall—An independent-minded heiress, she’s blindsided by attacks, uncertain whom to trust—and has to take the gamble of a lifetime on her wedding day.
Joseph Lowery—A police officer living in the shadow of his father’s disgrace, he offers Erin his protection. But he may be unintentionally drawing her into greater danger.
Chet Dever—He lied to Erin about their wedding plans. Was he also driving the van that ran her down?
Lance Bolding—Erin’s stepfather may have designs on the Marshall Company, the firm she and her mother, Alice, inherited.
Brandy Schorr—Lance and Alice’s new housekeeper is keeping secrets of her own.
Tina Norris—Erin’s friend and maid of honor, she’s tangled in a web of relationships.
Gene Norris—Tina’s brother would do almost anything to realize his ambitions.
Edgar Norris—As chief of police, he blocks Joseph’s investigation of Alice’s near drowning and may have framed Joseph’s father for murder.
Marie Flanders—Erin’s missing aunt might be the victim of violence—or a part of it.
Rick Valdez—Is the detective sergeant playing a game of his own?
Stanley Rogers—Longtime accountant at the Marshall Company, he controls Erin’s trust fund.
Todd Wilde—Eleven years ago, he may have gotten away with murder. Now he’s back, but what does he want?
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 Nineteen
Chapter One
Erin Marshall first noticed the van a little before 6:00 p.m. She wasn’t sure why it caught her eye, since there were still quite a few cars parked in the paved area roped off from the Healthy Children’s Fund carnival, which she’d helped organize.
It wasn’t just the peeling beige paint or dented bumper that drew her attention. Despite Orange County’s reputation for affluence, the daylong carnival in the centrally located city of Tustin had drawn not only late-model cars and SUVs, but also plenty of old clunkers.
Maybe it was the way the van lurked to one side, half-hidden in the shade of an office building that sat empty on a Saturday. And the fact that, despite an obscuring shadow, she could tell there was someone sitting behind the wheel, unmoving as the minutes ticked by.
Was he waiting for someone? Why didn’t he come out and enjoy the September sunshine?
“Wanna buy a candy bar?” a girl’s voice asked.
Erin tore her gaze away from the van. Before the booth where she’d been handing out pamphlets stood a teenage volunteer with one thick, nutty chocolate bar left on her tray.
“I just have to sell this one and I can go home,” the girl said. “You look hungry. How about it?”
It was on the tip of Erin’s tongue to say, “I can’t eat that stuff.” Even though she was only twenty-six, she’d stuck strictly—well, almost strictly—to health food since a heart attack killed her father two years ago.
What was a couple of dollars? And she had skipped lunch, and for heaven’s sake, it was one chocolate bar.
“Sure.” She fished a few crumpled bills from her shoulder bag.
“Thanks!” With a grin, the girl handed it over and hurried toward the cashier’s booth. Beyond her, workmen were disassembling the carnival rides on a far section of the asphalt. The scents of popcorn and cotton candy lingered in the air as the vendors closed up shop.
People streamed by, heading home. From the parking area, Erin registered the sound of cars starting. No one seemed the least bit interested in taking a pamphlet describing the fund’s free health screening programs.
After tucking away the candy to savor at leisure, she decided to make the rounds to see if anyone needed help closing up shop. Although many tradespeople had decamped, it was her responsibility, as administrative assistant at Conrad Promotions, to keep things running smoothly.
Erin glanced toward the building. The van hadn’t gone anywhere.
It probably belonged to one of the craftspeople, she told herself. Any minute, the driver would get out and begin loading unsold wares.
Still, she felt vulnerable. For comfort, she instinctively touched the gold pendant nestled against the front of her blue Healthy Children’s Fund T-shirt.
It was hard to say why she’d worn it today. Although she sometimes took it out of the drawer simply to enjoy the precious memories it stirred, Erin couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn the jagged half heart design. Maybe it was because, after tomorrow, she’d never be able to wear it again.
It reminded her of someone she’d once loved, someone who’d probably thrown away the other half of the heart years ago. Erin wished that didn’t bother her so much.
A tablecloth flapped in her path, startling her.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t see you,” called a woman shaking wrinkles from the fabric. She’d already tucked her unsold teddy bears into a box beneath her display table.
“I hope your sales went well,” Erin said.
“Terrific!” That was good news, since the fund netted a percentage of everything sold.
Erin moved on through the nearly empty carnival section. She was about to check on the van again when a boy of about four pelted toward her. Behind him lagged his weary mother, pushing a baby stroller.
“Whoa!” Erin held out one arm. “Wait for your mom.”
The boy halted in front of her. “I want to go home!”
“Are you planning to drive the car yourself?” she asked.
“Can I?” he asked hopefully.
“Well, no, so I guess you better wait for your mother.”
That seemed logical to Erin, but the little boy’s face reddened. “I’m hungry!” he wailed.
“I’m sure your mom will feed you as soon as she can,” she said.
The woman caught up in time to hear the last remark. “We ate about an hour ago, but he was too excited to finish his sandwich. I promised to split a chocolate bar with him, but I can’t find any.”
At the thought of the candy tucked into her purse, Erin’s stomach growled. Despite her devotion to health food—or perhaps because of it—she could almost taste the chocolate melting on her tongue and the nuts crunching between her teeth.
The little boy whined. His mother’s shoulders sagged.
“Here.” Erin took out the bar and handed it to the woman. “It’s courtesy of Conrad Promotions. We want everyone to go away happy.”
“How kind! I’ll pay for it, of course.” She reached for her wallet.
“It’s on the house.”
“Are you sure?” Receiving a nod, she said, “That’s great! Thank you.” The mother broke the candy bar in two and gave a piece to her son.
The smell of chocolate drifted through Erin’s senses. Her stomach rumbled again. She hoped nobody heard it over the clamor of workmen dismantling the rides. “Have a good evening.”
“You too!”
After the family left, Erin couldn’t find a single food stand open. Well, she’d eat a yogurt later at her apartment.
“Erin!” Bea Conrad waved from the cashier’s booth. The owner of Conrad Promotions had a friendly face and fluffy honey-colored hair. The T-shirt and slacks she’d worn instead of one of her usual tailored suits made her look younger than her late thirties.
Erin strode in her direction. “Anything I can do?”
“Actually, yes. I have a favor to ask,” Bea said.
“Name it.” Too late, it occurred to Erin that she might get stuck here without dinner. Well, she’d survive. Maybe.
“What a great attitude! I hope I’m not going to lose you.” Bea shook her head apologetically. “Don’t mind me. Chet’s a real catch. When are you giving him your answer?”
“He’s driving down tomorrow.” Erin felt an inexplicable urge to touch her heart pendant again. She didn’t want to talk about Chet. “How were the receipts?”
“Even better than last year,” Bea said. “I don’t have the final numbers, but I’m guessing the profit will be around fifteen thousand. That’s not counting our mysterious benefactor. I can’t believe it! Someone managed to sneak a cashier’s check into the donation box again this year.”
“Let’s not complain about it,” Erin teased. “How much was it this time?”
“Twenty thousand,” Bea said. “It’s from Friend of a Friend Foundation again. I’m surprised you never heard of them. I mean, you are from Sundown Valley, and that’s where they’re located. But I guess you don’t pay much attention to what goes on there anymore.”
Erin shrugged and said nothing. In fact, she subscribed to the Sundown Sentinel and kept close tabs on her hometown.
“I don’t know why they’re so mysterious.” Bea had telephoned the previous year and learned only that the foundation made donations to worthy causes on behalf of an anonymous sponsor. “Well, I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“What was the favor?” Erin asked.
“Oh! Thanks for reminding me,” said her boss. “I know you made two runs to the bank already, and I was going to make the last trip myself. But my babysitter just called and said Kiki’s fussing.” That was her two-year-old daughter. “I hope she’s not coming down with something. Would you mind making the drop?”
“No problem.” Erin ignored a twinge of apprehension when she remembered the van. Tustin was a safe city and it was daylight, although fading fast.
Bea handed over the cash box. The heavy metal container was ridiculously obvious, Erin thought. Well, if someone stole it, she’d send another anonymous check to make good on the loss.
It hadn’t been easy keeping her secret while working for Conrad Promotions the past three years, she reflected as Bea turned to accept compliments from an exhibitor. It helped that hardly anyone in Orange County knew her family.
In Sundown Valley, everybody knew about the Marshall Company. The development and management firm owned everything from the local mall to the medical center. Two years ago, Erin had inherited a half interest in it.
She didn’t dismiss the advantages of wealth, but it had drawbacks, too. If her mother, Alice, weren’t wealthy, would her stepfather, Lance Bolding, have materialized out of nowhere during a cruise last year and charmed the grieving widow into marrying him? And if he hadn’t done that, he couldn’t have managed to come between Alice and her daughter.
Erin’s concerns deepened dramatically four months ago when her mother nearly drowned in the lake near the new home Lance had persuaded her to buy. Although the police had ruled it an accident, she feared for her mother’s safety.
But Alice had refused to let her intervene. In fact, they’d quarreled on the phone right after the accident. Since then, her mother had refused to let Erin come to visit. Lance had managed to isolate her almost completely.
Except from Chet Dever. As CEO of the Marshall Company, he’d been her father’s right-hand man and, since Alice served as the company’s chairman of the board, he often consulted her on business matters. He’d kept an eye on her for Erin these past few months.
After dating her casually in the past, he’d also begun to court her in earnest. Last weekend, he’d asked Erin to marry him. After taking a week to think about it, she’d decided to say yes tomorrow.
Chet was handsome, smart and eloquent. She admired his focus and his ambitious agenda as a leading congressional candidate in next spring’s primary. And he was one of the few men she’d met for whom her money was neither an obstacle nor her chief attraction.
Erin’s free hand closed over the pendant. The boy who’d given it to her in high school had been her first love, but it made no sense to compare Chet to someone she hadn’t seen in nearly ten years. And probably never would again. During their painful breakup, Joseph had made it clear he wanted nothing further to do with Erin.
Yet touching the heart gave her a sense of connection. Why was she thinking about him now? Why did I wear this today?
Suddenly she knew the answer, although she hadn’t wanted to face it. Because it reminded her of someone with whom she’d felt things she could never feel with Chet: a visceral excitement, an eagerness to touch him, the joy of spontaneity.
Until another man affected her that strongly, she had no business getting married.
“Is it something I said?” Bea asked. “You’re off in your own little world.”
“I’m sorry.” Erin realized she’d been standing there like a zombie.
“I know it isn’t the effect of holding so much money, because you handled more than that earlier,” her boss pointed out.
“It’s Chet,” Erin blurted. “It’s a mistake.”
“What’s a mistake?”
“I was going to say yes. I can’t marry him.” She let out a long breath and was surprised by the intensity of her relief.
“Marriage is a big step, but I thought you really liked him,” Bea said. “He made a great impression on my husband and me.” Chet had taken them all out for a French dinner.
“I do like him,” Erin said. “I just don’t love him.” And if I don’t love him by now, I never will.
She realized she’d been hoping all along that she was falling in love. Life would be so simple if she could marry Chet.
Her mother would approve, and they might grow close again. And Erin liked Chet’s goal of stimulating the economy by shrinking government and encouraging private investment. She’d always wanted to make a difference in the world and with him, she could.
Why had she believed that was enough reason to get married? By now, she ought to know her own mind and have her own purpose in life. Although she’d made a start by working for Conrad Promotions, it wasn’t enough.
“You’re the only one who can make that decision,” Bea told her. “I’m sure you’ve given it a lot of thought.”
“Not nearly enough, or I’d have realized this sooner,” Erin answered. “Maybe I should call and save him the drive.” Sundown Valley was fifty miles away.
“This is the kind of news he deserves to hear in person,” cautioned her boss.
Erin sighed. “You’re right. Well, you’d better go make sure Kiki’s okay.”
Bea gathered her possessions. “See you Monday. And thanks again!”
“Sure thing.”
Erin headed for her car. She hoped tomorrow’s confrontation wasn’t going to be awkward. She knew Chet better than to believe he would accept her refusal without trying to change her mind.
As she ducked beneath the ropes that separated the fair from the parking area, she noticed how quickly twilight was settling in. And how empty the parking lot loomed, isolated in the midst of a huge office park.
To one side, Erin heard a motor spring to life. In her preoccupation with Chet, she’d forgotten the van.
She was disturbed to see it pull away from the building and move slowly toward her. There was nothing between them save a few planters filled with ficus trees and aromatic, flowering bushes.
Erin clutched the cash box tighter. She wondered if she should make a run for it or if she was just being paranoid.
She was quite a ways from her car, which sat forlornly near the rim of the lot. Her legs, weary from a day of standing, protested when she lengthened her stride and the heavy cash box weighed her down.
Surely she was imagining the threat. Yet although there were people not far away—the workmen taking down the rides, a few vendors disassembling their booths—no one paid attention to Erin.
The van speeded up.
Erin reversed course back toward the fair. The van swung toward her.
She hadn’t imagined the threat.
“Hey!” she shouted toward the workmen, trying to make herself heard over the racket of their equipment. No one looked up.
A few thousand dollars wasn’t worth getting killed for. At least, she hoped the driver was a thief and not some crazed stalker. Although it infuriated her, Erin set the cash box on the pavement and forced her stiff legs into a trot.
The van veered to follow her.
The driver either hadn’t noticed that the receipts were sitting on the blacktop or he didn’t want them. Disbelief mingled with panic. This couldn’t be happening. It was too bizarre. And terrifying.
Erin ducked past the ropes into the carnival area and broke into a run. But with the booths gone, the blacktop here was also nearly bare.
The van tore through the ropes.
Erin put on a burst of speed despite aching lungs. This felt like a nightmare, the kind where she was doomed to fall off a cliff no matter how hard she tried to flee.
She wasn’t going to give in easily. If the driver grabbed her, she’d fight and scream for all she was worth. But she prayed it wouldn’t come to that.
The ficus sprouting from a nearby planter was too slim to offer protection. There was no time to make a cell phone call, no time to do anything but try to cross a span of pavement that seemed to stretch into infinity.
Even now, none of the workmen had noticed her. The whole incident, which loomed so large in her mind, had to have transpired in a minute or two.
Winded, she turned to face the van. Maybe this was some kind of sick game. Maybe the driver just wanted to scare her.
Glare on the windshield obscured his face. Erin stumbled backward and, at a different angle, the glass cleared.
She saw who it was. And couldn’t believe it.
This was no random assault. It was no robbery, either.
The van shot forward. In a burst of desperation, Erin leaped aside, too late. The bumper caught her hip with an agonizing whack.
She flew into the air and through a planter, helpless to stop her flight. Time slowed as branches tore at her arms. The perfume of crushed jasmine blossoms filled her senses.
As if from very far away, she heard one of the workmen shout. Finally, they’d spotted her.
She had to survive. She had to tell someone what she’d seen. The danger was enormous, not only for her but also for her mother.
Erin’s shoulder hit the ground and a thousand stars exploded. Then there was only darkness.
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