Lenora Worth - The Diamond Secret

A dangerous man

He’s a pirate, an adventurer—and Esther Carlisle has just let him into her New Orleans antiques shop. Cullen Murphy claims he knew Esther’s late father…and that her wild-dreaming daddy discovered the true location of the legendary chocolate diamond. Esther knows she should show the handsome treasure hunter the door. And she will. In a minute. Everything changes when gun-wielding thugs barge in and start shooting. Esther may not trust Cullen, yet staying at his side is the only way for her to find the diamond first—and stay alive. But some treasures can be found only with the heart....

“Listen to me.”

“Some very dangerous people know about the chocolate diamond. If I hadn’t reached you first, it would be even worse, trust me. And you do need to trust me, do you understand?”

Trust him? Cullen had come in here demanding a hunk of a diamond that she figured didn’t even exist and now he had thugs looking for him and this alleged diamond and he wanted her to trust him? Right.

She stared up at him. She could imagine him doing bad things, very bad things. He had that kind of look about him. Half treasure hunter, half pirate. All male.

“I won’t go anywhere with you,” she said, wondering about the lesser of two evils.

He sighed. “I don’t have time to argue with you. If you don’t do as I say, they will either torture you or kill you. Or both.”

The banging ended and the sound of crashing glass took its place.

“What’s it going to be, Esther?”

LENORA WORTH

has written more than forty books for three different publishers. Her career with Love Inspired Books spans close to fifteen years. In February 2011 her Love Inspired Suspense novel Body of Evidence made the New York Times bestseller list. Her very first Love Inspired title, The Wedding Quilt, won Affaire de Coeur’s Best Inspirational for 1997, and Logan’s Child won an RT Book Reviews Best Love Inspired for 1998. With millions of books in print, Lenora continues to write for the Love Inspired and Love Inspired Suspense lines. For years Lenora also wrote a weekly opinion column for the local paper and worked freelance with a local magazine. She has now turned to full-time fiction writing and enjoying adventures with her retired husband, Don. Married for thirty-six years, they have two grown children. Lenora enjoys writing, reading and shopping…especially shoe shopping.

The Diamond Secret

Lenora Worth

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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I will give you treasures that are hidden away

in dark places. I will give you riches

that are stored up in secret places.

—Isaiah 45:3

To my editor, Patience Bloom. Thanks for encouraging me, believing in me and letting me have fun with words. You are a true precious jewel!

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 TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

ONE

Somewhere in the Quarter, a lonely saxophone wailed a bluesy tune.

Esther Carlisle listened to the sweet notes hitting the late-afternoon wind, then glanced at the pendulum clock ticking away the seconds behind the counter. Soon all of the clocks would start chiming the top of the hour.

Time to close up shop and go home. Or maybe, go upstairs to the apartment she’d inherited along with this shop after her father had died last year. She’d managed to avoid the apartment for months. But Carlisle Collectibles had become her life lately. Royal Street had always been her street anyway since she’d grown up hanging out here in this big, rambling shop. She knew the shopkeepers, and even the homeless people, by name. And she could set her own antique pendant watch by that saxophone player’s daily schedule. Harold was a war veteran. He slept until the sun started settling behind the buildings then got up to fill the night with notes. His soulful melody merged with the sound of voices carrying out on the street and the honking of horns up on Canal.

He’d probably never understand why Esther prayed for him on a daily basis. But he did seem to understand that she was aware of him, since she often placed dollar bills in his open saxophone case. Her devout father had taught her the golden rule, after all. In return, because Esther tried to be kind to all she met, the rough, quirky crowd in the Quarter watched over her.

“Another quiet summer day in the French Quarter,” she said, the echo of her statement hitting the high rafters and the tall windows to reflect back on her while the clocks kept on tick, tick, ticking all around her.

The pendulums would always swing back. Tomorrow, she’d have some time off to work in her big studio in the Garden District, to create art out of broken pieces of life. One of her sculptures was on display in the front window of the shop. The whimsical piece she called Wasted Time was made from old watches, ancient keys and intricate antique glass doorknobs of various shapes and sizes. It represented missed opportunities and time passing without change.

It also represented her mood these days.

The phone rang, jarring her back to the here and now.

“Esther, how was your day?”

Mr. Reynolds, from next door. He always called to check on her. Especially when he knew her assistant, Ted, wasn’t in.

“I’m good. A slow day here. How about you?”

“A few takers,” the distinguished history buff replied. “Sold a few soldiers. Had a few lookers—one in particular. Bought a nice 1858 Remington revolver.”

“Wow, that’s a true gun buff, Mr. Reynolds.”

They had a friendly competition going since they both carried antique weaponry.

“Yes. He was a very interesting man. Surprised he didn’t come down your way.”

“Nope. I’m about to close.”

Esther hung up, then finished tallying the receipts of the day, worried because she’d had so few visitors. But things would pick up later in the season. Right now, she only wanted to lock up and head home for some dinner and a cup of tea. Maybe she’d read that book she’d found at the bookstore down the way. Or maybe go into the tiny courtyard studio she’d set up out back and work on one of her less complicated pieces. She could go to the potluck supper held in the tiny chapel near her home in the Garden District. Or she could tackle all the papers and unopened mail that had been piling up on her father’s rolltop desk.

Humming “Unforgettable” along with the saxophone, Esther walked up the planked aisle, her footsteps marking time along with the clocks, and pushed at the rickety old glass paneled door.

A hand shoved at the outside knob.

She glanced up to see the silhouette of a tall man wearing a snazzy fedora. A chunky cover of dark bangs hid his eyes, but she didn’t miss the flash of a smile and the gleam of white teeth. “Wait, may I come in?”