Heather Graham - Protector, Lover...Husband?

Only one man can save her!

Three thrilling and breathtaking romances from three beloved Mills & Boon authors!

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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In August 2010 Mills & Boon bring you four classic collections, each featuring three favourite romances by our bestselling authors

THE SPANIARD’S PLEASURE

The Spaniard’s Pregnancy Proposal by Kim Lawrence

At the Spaniard’s Convenience by Margaret Mayo

Taken: the Spaniard’s Virgin by Lucy Monroe

BOUGHT FOR HIS BED

Virgin Bought and Paid For by Robyn Donald

Bought for Her Baby by Melanie Milburne

Sold to the Highest Bidder! by Kate Hardy

THE MILLIONAIRE’S CLUB: CONNOR, TOM & GAVIN

Round-the-Clock Temptation by Michelle Celmer

Highly Compromised Position by Sara Orwig

A Most Shocking Revelation by Kristi Gold

PROTECTOR, LOVER…HUSBAND?

In the Dark by Heather Graham

Sure Bet by Maggie Price

Deadly Exposure by Linda Turner

by

New York Times bestselling author HEATHER GRAHAMhas written more than ninety novels. There are more than twenty million copies of her books in print. Heather lives with her husband and five children in Miami, Florida.

To Mary Stella, with lots of love.

To both the Dolphin Research Organisation and the Theatre of the Sea, with thanks.

Alex nearly screamed as her foot hit the shell. She choked down the sound just in time but still stumbled, and that was when she fell.

She’d missed the shell, running in the dark. As she lay there, winded from landing hard on the sand, she damned the darkness. In just another few hours, it would be light.

In just a matter of minutes, the eye of the storm would have passed and the hundred-mile winds of Hurricane Dahlia would be picking up again. And here she was, lying next to the water, completely vulnerable.

She rolled quickly, gasping for breath, ready to leap back to her feet. She didn’t dare take the time to survey the injury to her foot, as the constant prayer that had been rushing through her mind continued. Please, just let me reach the resort. Please…

A thrashing sound came from the brush behind her.

The killer was close.

She would have to run again, heading for the safety of the resort. Or would even that be safety now?

She needed to reach the resort without being seen, needed to reach the lockbox behind the check-in, where the Smith & Wesson was kept. She was almost certain no one else had taken the gun.

Move! She silently commanded herself. What was she waiting for?

There was no one who could help her, no one she could trust.

She had to depend on only herself, no matter how desperately she wanted to believe in at least one man…

It was then that, so near that she could recognize him despite the darkness, she saw Len Creighton, prone on the sand.

Another body she thought, panic rising in her. Well, she had wondered where he was. And now she knew. He was lying facedown on the sand, a trickle of blood running down his face. The wild surf was breaking over his legs; where he lay surrounded by clumps of seaweed. Already, little crabs were scouring the area, carefully eyeing what they hoped would be their next meal.

She choked back a scream. Above her, the clouds broke. Pale light emerged from the heavens.

And that was when the first man exploded from the bush.

“Alex!” he called. “Get over here.”

He stood there, panting for breath, beckoning to her, eyes sharply surveying the area. And he was carrying a speargun, one that had been used on some living creature already—blood dripped from the tip. “Alex, you’ve got to trust me. Come with me now—quickly.”

“No!”

He spun on a dime at the sound of the second voice.

A second man. This one carrying a Glock, which was aimed at the first man.

“Alex, come to me. Get away from him,” the newcomer insisted.

The men faced off, staring, each one aware of the weapon the other was carrying.

“Alex!”

This time, she wasn’t even sure which man spoke. Once she had trusted them both. One, she had loved before. The other had so nearly seduced her heart in the days just past.

“Alex!”

There was what appeared to be a dead man at her feet. A co-worker. A friend. She should be down on her knees, attempting to find life, however hopeless that might be. But one of the two men facing her was a killer. She couldn’t look away. Seconds ticked by, and she stood frozen in place.

Her heart insisted that it couldn’t be either man.

Especially not him.

She couldn’t think. She could only stand there and stare, eyes going from one man to the other, everything within her soul screaming that neither one of them could be a killer.

But one of them was.

She could feel the ocean lapping over her feet. She knew these waters so well, like the back of her hand.

So did they.

No, not these waters. Not this island. She knew it as few other people could.

There was only one thing she could do, even though it was insanity. The storm might have passed for the moment, but the sea was far from placid. The waves were still deadly. The currents would be merciless.

And yet…

She had no other choice.

She turned to the sea and dove into it, and as she swam for her life, she realized that a few days ago, she wouldn’t have believed this.

That was when it had all begun. Just days ago.

She felt the surge of her arms and legs as she strove to put distance between herself and the shore.

Something sped past her in the water. A bullet? A spear?

People always said that in the last seconds of someone’s life, their entire past rushed before their eyes.

She wasn’t seeing that far back.

Just to that morning, by the dolphin lagoon, when she had found the first body on the beach.

The one that had disappeared.

“The main thing to remember is that here at Moon Bay, we consider our dolphins our guests. When you’re swimming with them, don’t turn and stalk them, because, for one thing, they’re faster than you can begin to imagine, and they’ll disappear on you in seconds flat. And also, they hate it. Let them come to you—and they will. They’re here because they’re social creatures. We never force them to interact with people—they want to. Any animal in the lagoon knows how to leave the playing arena. And when they choose to leave, we respect their desire to do so. When they come to you naturally, you’re free to stroke them as they pass. Try to keep your hands forward of the dorsal fin. And just stroke—don’t pound or scratch, okay?”