Harper Allen - The Bride And The Mercenary

“No.” Ainslie shook her head. “No, Malone’s dead. You’re someone called John Smith, and right from the start you’ve come up with one crazy story after the other. You’re not Malone. I buried Malone.”

“Ask me anything about our time together.” His voice was edged. “I remember it all.”

“He made me a promise. You can’t know about that.” Ainslie heard her own voice as if it was coming from a long way away, through the enveloping mist of pain.

“I promised you I’d never leave you the way you’d been left before. You’d had a nightmare, and I heard you crying out in your sleep. I held you and you told me about your dream.” His eyes were dark as he grabbed her wrists. “Don’t you get it, Lee? I didn’t break my promise to you. I’ve come back., dammit!”

Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

May holds more mayhem for you in this action-packed month of terrific titles.

Patricia Rosemoor revisits her popular series THE MCKENNA LEGACY in this first of a two-book miniseries. Irishman Curran McKenna has a gift for gentling horses—and the ladies. But Thoroughbred horse owner Jane Grantham refuses to be tamed—especially when she is guarding not only her heart, but secrets that could turn deadly. Will she succumb to this Mysterious Stranger?

Bestselling author Joanna Wayne delivers the final book in our MORIAH’S LANDING in-line continuity series. In Behind the Veil, we finally meet the brooding recluse Dr. David Bryson. Haunted for years by his fiancée’s death, he meets a new woman in town who wants to teach him how to love again. But when she is targeted as a killer’s next victim, David will use any means necessary to make sure that history doesn’t repeat itself.

The Bride and the Mercenary continues Harper Allen’s suspenseful miniseries THE AVENGERS. For two years Ainslie O’Connor believed that the man she’d passionately loved—Seamus Malone—was dead. But then she arrives at her own society wedding, only to find that her dead lover is still alive! Will Seamus’s memory return in time to save them both?

And finally, we are thrilled to introduce a brand-new author—Lisa Childs. You won’t want to miss her very first book Return of the Lawman—with so many twists and turns, it will keep you guessing…and looking for more great stories from her!

Happy reading,

Denise O’Sullivan

Associate Senior Editor

Harlequin Intrigue

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Harper Allen lives in the country in the middle of a hundred acres of maple trees with her husband, Wayne, six cats, four dogs—and a very nervous cockatiel at the bottom of the food chain. For excitement she and Wayne drive to the nearest village and buy jumbo bags of pet food. She believes in love at first sight, because it happened to her.

Ainslie O’Connell—Two years ago she buried the only man she would ever love. But when she glimpses a stranger on the way to her wedding, she’s almost certain Malone has come back from the dead….

Seamus Malone—He was killed by a sniper’s bullet. Wasn’t he?

Terrence Sullivan—Ainslie’s P.I. brother, Sully knows that the man she loved hid a dark past. But does the man who looks like Malone have an even more dangerous secret?

Pearson McNeil—Older than Ainslie and slightly stuffy, he’s offered her his hand in marriage. Being jilted at the altar wasn’t part of the deal.

Brian McNeil—He’s angry at the way Ainslie has treated his brother. But is his anger a cover for a more deadly intention?

Paul Cosgrove—He was Malone’s partner when the two of them worked for the mysterious “Agency,” and he saw him die. Now his own life seems to have fallen apart.

Noah Watkins—He’s tracked the international assassin called the Executioner for two years. When he finds him he’ll kill him without a qualm.

The Executioner—He’s responsible for too many deaths to count, and his identity has remained a secret. But does he himself know who and what he is?

To Sean Cole with thanks.

Prologue

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

Epilogue

They made little shovels especially for this, Ainslie O’Connell thought in dull wonder, taking it from the man beside her and grasping it by the handle. Who would have thought it? The shaft was of oak, so smooth that it felt like silk instead of wood, and the blade itself gleamed like polished silver. It was almost too pretty to use.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Lee.” The low voice at her shoulder was thick with emotion. She looked up.

“No, I’m okay.” She looked down again at the shining shovel, the heap of brown loam at her feet. “But I’m not really sure how this works. Am I supposed to take a full shovelful, or is it just kind of symbolic, Paul?”

“It’s only symbolic, Lee.” His tone was edged with sadness. “Get a little dirt on the tip of the blade and then throw it onto the coffin. They’ll cover up the rest of it after we leave.”

“Oh.” Ainslie frowned in understanding. “Okay.” Hefting the delicate implement in her hands, she started to slide the blade into the pile of earth, but then she stopped. “Do they leave the flowers on top of the coffin? They don’t take the flowers off before they bury him, do they?”

“No. The flowers stay with the coffin. The roses are yours?”

“Red roses.” She nodded in agreement. “Red roses for true love. That’s why I chose them. They’re really beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, they are, sugar. He would have liked them.” Paul Cosgrove’s hand wrapped around the shovel handle next to hers, his skin almost the same color as the oak, the white sliver of shirtcuff protruding from the somber gray of his suit sleeve a snowy contrast to the brown earth and the dull red fire of the roses. “It’s time to say goodbye, Lee. That’s really what this symbolizes.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” She gave him a startled look, shaking her head. “I’m not ready to do that. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.”

Her gaze clouded in confusion, and she let go of the shovel. Her gloved fingers touched her forehead. “Is this really happening, Paul? Do you think there’s any way this might be some kind of a bad dream?”

The man watching her sighed heavily, a flicker of pain passing over his features. Instead of answering her, he leaned forward, plucked one of the blood-red roses from the arrangement on the polished mahogany lid in front of them, and handed it to her. Ainslie took it from him, her eyes wide.