THE MILLIONAIRES’ CLUB: DAVID, CLINT & TRAVIS
Entangled With a Texan
SARA ORWIG
Locked Up With a Lawman
LAURA WRIGHT
Remembering One Wild Night
KATHIE DENOSKY
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SARA ORWIG
“WHAT’S HAPPENING IN ROYAL?”
NEWS FLASH – Strange things are afoot in Royal this month! Seems a woman collapsed the other night at our very own Royal Diner. Rumours are circulating that she had a baby and quite a load of cash on her. Who is she? Just what kind of trouble is this mysterious woman in? Unfortunately, our Jane Doe has not yet regained consciousness and the citizens of Royal can only speculate on the answers…
And what’s going on at Royal’s Millionaires’ Club? Some of our sexy gents were on hand to help Royal’s Jane Doe and continue to keep a close eye on her. This reporter has tried to get a statement from recently returned member David Sorrenson, but he refused to comment on the proceedings except to say the Club was handling things…
Is David on baby-sitting detail? Reliable sources have spotted the notorious playboy shopping for baby clothes with an infant in tow. It’s a good thing David has hired Marissa Wilder as the little girl’s nanny. Marissa knows a thing or two about babies and is more than happy to help him out. Of course, what single girl in this town wouldn’t jump at the chance to live under the same roof as this drool-worthy bachelor? Could this arrangement lead to something a bit steamier? Only time will tell…
SARA ORWIG
lives in Oklahoma. She has a patient husband who will take her on research trips anywhere from big cities to old forts. She is an avid collector of Western history books. With a master’s degree in English, Sara writes historical romance, mainstream fiction and contemporary romance. Books are beloved treasures that take Sara to magical worlds, and she loves both reading and writing them.
Look for Sara Orwig’s latest novel, Seduced by the Enemy , in Desire™ in June 2009.
Laura Wright, Kathie DeNosky, Cindy Gerard, Cathleen Galitz and Kristi Gold – it was fun to work with you. Also, thanks to Liz Schultz and special thanks to my editor, Stephanie Maurer.
One
Intuition told him that something was wrong. The last time he had felt this way was ten minutes before he had been pinned down by a sniper in a land far from home.
In spite of the good food and the great company, David Sorrenson shifted on his seat with an uncustomary restlessness. On more than one occasion, such hunches had saved his life, and he didn’t like the hunch he was getting now. He tried to shrug it off as ridiculous. He was home safe and told himself to stop worrying.
The cold night on the third of November made the weekly chilifest at the Royal Diner even more appetizing. While vintage rock and roll played on the jukebox, the enticing smell of Manny’s frying burgers permeated the local greasy spoon. Only a few booths were filled, and none of the red vinyl stools at the counter held customers.
In such a relaxed atmosphere, David couldn’t explain the nagging uneasiness he was experiencing. It was good to be in his hometown of Royal, Texas, to be through with Special Ops, out of the air force and back with old friends.
David laughed at a joke Alex Kent was telling. His friend’s green eyes sparkled. David had known Alex since they were kids. They were both thirty-five now, and their lives held a lot of similarities—no mother growing up, going all the way through school together, David involved with Special Ops and Alex, the FBI. Then, there were big differences. Alex, who drew the ladies like a flower draws bees, appeared completely comfortable with his life, while David didn’t know why lately he had felt as if he were at a crossroads in his.
“David, you look like you’re out in the south forty,” Clint Andover said, curiosity in his blue eyes.
“Nope, I’m right here, but I was in the south forty all day hunting steers and it’s good to sit and eat Manny’s chili and listen to you two.”
“Too bad Ryan couldn’t join us,” Alex remarked, referring to another of their friends.
“He’s got a hot date tonight,” David answered dryly, shifting his jeans-clad legs beneath the table. “He’s going to rival you with the ladies, Alex.”
The tiny brass bell over the front door tinkled, and David glanced that way. The door swung wide, causing a stir of the muslin curtains at the windows and allowing a blast of cold air to sweep into the restaurant. A woman clutching a baby and a diaper bag staggered into the diner.
“Oh-oh,” David muttered, already sliding out of the booth, bracing himself on his booted feet, aware in his peripheral vision that his friends were up and moving as well.
Beneath a tangled mass of long, dark brown hair, the woman’s head was bleeding—she looked as if she had fallen out of a car. Over a wrinkled blue-denim jumper, her bedraggled gray cloth coat was mud-spattered and torn. She was as pale as snow and looked on the verge of collapse.
Even as they rushed to her side, she began to fall. All three men reached for her.
Clint Andover caught her in his arms, and David grabbed the tiny blanket-wrapped infant. Alex took the bulging diaper bag and already was on his cell phone calling for an ambulance.
When they caught her and the baby, the woman’s eyelids fluttered. Large, thickly lashed violet eyes gazed up at them, and the only reason David heard her was because he was bending close as she whispered, “Don’t let them take… my baby… don’t let them get Autumn….”
Her eyelids fluttered again and closed as she went limp in Clint’s arms.
Swaddled in a blood-spattered, torn pink blanket, the baby began to cry. While David gently patted the infant, Clint lowered the woman to the floor. Manny charged up with a grease-spattered topcoat.
“Here’s a coat—”
While Clint took it to cover her, David continued patting the baby. To his surprise, the infant stopped crying, gazing up at him with wide, dark blue eyes.
“An ambulance is on its way,” Alex said, and Manny moved away. Giving them plenty of room, diners stared in frozen shock while the three men tried to take care of the woman and baby.
Alex leaned down to the woman and took something crumpled from her fingers. David watched Alex straighten out the card. Startled, David met Alex’s solemn gaze. When both men looked at Clint, a silent communication passed among them. David knew the other two also recognized the Texas Cattleman’s Club card that the stranger had clutched in her hand.
As a member of the prestigious social club, David knew, as well as his friends, that the Texas Cattleman’s Club was a facade. Its members worked together covertly on secret missions to save innocent lives. Tonight, two more close friends would have been with them, except Travis Whelan and Sheikh Darin ibn Shakir were out of the country on a confidential task. The woman lying on the floor of the Royal Diner was evidently here because she was seeking a Texas Cattleman’s Club member to help her.
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