Pat Warren - The Lawman And The Lady

She could tell he wanted her to open up to him, but how would a man like him ever be able to understand her problems? If she revealed too much, somehow her son could be in danger. And what could she do then to stop it?

Closing her eyes, she tried to concentrate on something pleasant. Unbidden, her mind conjured up a pair of steady gray eyes in a tanned face, and a mouth that looked hard and a little grim, yet that she imagined could be soft and warm.

Now she knew that Nick Bennett wasn’t the man for her. No man was.

But she could dream….

Dear Reader,

What is there to say besides, “The wait is over!” Yes, it’s true. Chance Mackenzie’s story is here at last. A Game of Chance, by inimitable New York Times bestselling author Linda Howard, is everything you’ve ever dreamed it could be: exciting, suspenseful, and so darn sexy you’re going to need to turn the air-conditioning down a few more notches! In Sunny Miller, Chance meets his match—in every way. Don’t miss a single fabulous page.

The twentieth-anniversary thrills don’t end there, though. A YEAR OF LOVING DANGEROUSLY continues with Undercover Bride, by Kylie Brant. This book is proof that things aren’t always what they seem, because Rachel’s groom, Caleb Carpenter, has secrets…secrets that could break—or win—her heart. Blade’s Lady, by Fiona Brand, features another of her to-die-for heroes, and a heroine who’s known him—in her dreams—for years. Linda Howard calls this author “a keeper,” and she’s right. Barbara McCauley’s SECRETS! miniseries has been incredibly popular in Silhouette Desire, and now it moves over to Intimate Moments with Gabriel’s Honor, about a heroine on the run with her son and the irresistible man who becomes her protector. Pat Warren is back with The Lawman and the Lady, full of suspense and emotion in just the right proportions. Finally, Leann Harris returns with Shotgun Bride, about a pregnant heroine forced to seek safety—and marriage—with the father of her unborn child.

And as if all that isn’t enough, come back next month for more excitement—including the next installment of A YEAR OF LOVING DANGEROUSLY and the in-line return of our wonderful continuity, 36 HOURS.

Leslie J. Wainger

Executive Senior Editor

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to my cousin, Vi Brown,

with love and affection.

mother of four, lives in Arizona with her travel agent husband and a lazy white cat. She’s a former newspaper columnist whose lifetime dream was to become a novelist. A strong romantic streak, a sense of humor and a keen interest in developing relationships led her to try romance novels, with which she feels very much at home.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

She was drop-dead gorgeous! Detective Nick Bennett couldn’t help thinking as he stood in the shadowy doorway of the private hospital room staring at the woman talking softly to the patient in the bed. Small-boned yet with a lush figure that her white silk blouse and slim charcoal slacks couldn’t disguise, she had a wild fall of auburn hair resisting all attempts at taming by the gold clip at her nape.

He was here to do a job, not gawk at a beautiful woman. But, at thirty-three and having been around the block a few times, Nick wasn’t often stopped in his tracks by a woman who could cause his mouth to go dry. She didn’t have the freckled skin usual for a near redhead, but rather her coloring resembled that of a fresh peach. Stunning, Nick thought. Absolutely stunning.

His gaze shifted to the reason he was here, the woman lying in the hospital bed looking as pale as the starched white sheets. A sixty-five-year-old widow, Maggie Davis had arrived home and interrupted an intruder who’d proceeded to attack her. Her doctor had told Nick just now that she had a broken arm most likely due to its being severely twisted behind her back, two cracked ribs, several bruises and a swollen cheek from a nasty punch to her face.

What could this small, elderly woman have done to warrant such a beating? Nick wondered. According to the notes taken by the first officer on the scene, the downstairs of her two-story house had been thoroughly ransacked. Had the thug been looking for valuables to steal or searching for something in particular?

The officer’s notes indicated that Tate Monroe, twenty-nine years old, lived with Ms. Davis, along with her seven-year-old son, Josh. Tate had been at work at Brennan’s Book Emporium in downtown Tucson where she was the manager. The report didn’t indicate where the boy had been, but he hadn’t been with Maggie Davis at the time of the assault. Fortunately.

Sensing his presence, Tate Monroe straightened. Eyes the color of the green Caribbean Sea, where he’d once vacationed, met Nick’s assessing gaze. A frown creased her forehead and a look of wariness had her taking a step back. She glanced quickly to the corner chair where a young boy was asleep. Probably her son, Josh.

Although the male in Nick would like to question Tate Monroe, preferably alone in a quiet place, the detective in him was more interested in the now sleeping boy. The officer’s report indicated that, though hurting badly, Maggie had mumbled that the man beating on her kept asking where Josh Monroe was. However, no matter how hard he hit her, she wouldn’t tell him anything. Why would the trespasser be interested in the schoolboy son of a single mother? Nick asked himself.

He stepped inside the hospital room and watched the wariness in Tate Monroe’s eyes deepen. Deliberately he moved close to the bed and gave Maggie Davis a reassuring smile.

“I’m Detective Nick Bennett from the Tucson Police Department, Ms. Davis,” he said, his voice gentle as he made note of several purpling bruises on her neck. He flashed his badge, then put it in his pocket. “I wonder if you feel up to answering a couple of questions.”

Tate moved closer to Maggie’s other side, wishing the police had sent a Columbo-type older, rumpled detective instead of this tall, attractive cop with his short black hair and gray eyes that seemed to look right through her. She dealt much better with silver-haired fatherly types. “She already told the officer at the house everything she knows,” Tate told him protectively. “The man had his hands on her throat, bruising her. It hurts her to speak.”

“It’s all right, Tate,” Maggie managed to say in a croaking voice, reaching toward the younger woman.

Mrs. Davis was a small woman with sharp blue eyes and snow-white hair worn short and curly. Rimless glasses sat low on her nose. Despite her many bruises, she squared her shoulders against the mound of pillows and seemed unafraid, as if to say she’s no one’s victim. This time Nick’s smile was one of admiration.

“I don’t want to cause you more discomfort,” he told her. “Why don’t you just shake or nod your head by way of an answer?”

Maggie nodded, but Tate again protested.

“You don’t have to do this now, Maggie. I’m sure the detective can wait until you’re feeling better.” She spoke to Maggie but her narrowed gaze was on Nick.