Lisa Childs - Sarah's Secrets

“So what does your experience tell you about this?”

“Usually kidnapping of a child involves a parent, a vengeful ex.”

Sarah’s lips twitched, but no humor tickled her. “I’m a widow, Mr. Graham.”

“There are more than ex-spouses. Ex-lovers get vengeful, too. Kidnappings are usually personal.”

“That’s not the case. It must be someone’s sick idea of a joke.” She had almost convinced herself of that.

Then he spoke her greatest fear aloud. “Or something or someone inadvertently thwarted their kidnapping attempt.”

If the threat was not a joke, but very real, who would protect them then? Could she count on Royce…a stranger?

Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

We have a thrilling summer lineup for this month and throughout the season to make your beach reading positively sizzle!

To start things off with a big splash, you won’t want to miss the next installment in bestselling author Rebecca York’s popular 43 LIGHT STREET series. An overturned conviction gives a hardened hero a new name, a new face and the means, motive and opportunity to close in on the real killer. But will his quest for revenge prevent him from becoming Intimate Strangers with the woman who fuels his every fantasy?

Reader favorite Debra Webb will leave you on the edge of your seat with the continuation of her ongoing series COLBY AGENCY. In Her Secret Alibi, a lethally sexy undercover agent will stop at nothing in the name of justice, only to fall under the mesmerizing spell of his prime suspect!

The heat wave continues with Julie Miller’s next tantalizing tale in THE TAYLOR CLAN. When the one woman whom a smoldering arson investigator can’t stop wanting becomes the target of a stalker, will Kansas City’s Bravest battle an inferno of danger—and desire—in the name of love? And in Sarah’s Secrets by Lisa Childs, shocking secret agendas ignite perilous sparks between a skittish single mom and a cynical tracker!

If you’re in the mood for breathtaking romantic suspense, you’ll be riveted by our selections this month!

Enjoy!

Denise O’Sullivan

Senior Editor

Harlequin Intrigue

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Lisa Childs has been writing since she could first form sentences. At eleven she won her first writing award and was interviewed by the local newspaper. That story’s plot revolved around a kidnapping, probably something she wished on any of her six siblings. A Halloween birthday predestined a life of writing Intrigue. She enjoys the mix of suspense and romance. Readers can write to Lisa at P.O. Box 139, Marne, MI 49435 or visit her at her Web site www.lisachilds.com.

Sarah Mars-Hutchins—The young widow’s secrets threatened her child’s life.

Royce “The Tracker” Graham—Had his search for Sarah brought danger to her door?

Bart McCarthy—His deathbed request prompted Royce’s search.

Donald Graham—Royce’s father would go to any lengths to protect his business partner.

Deputy Jones—He wanted to prove himself as a lawman and Sarah’s hero.

Alan McCarthy—His resentment of his dead brother extended to the man’s bastard child.

Donny McCarthy—His struggle with drugs had left him with few scruples.

Pamela McCarthy—Since her ex-husband didn’t support her or their sick child, she’d find other means of support.

Lionel Patterson—The kidnapper would die before revealing his accomplice.

Sheriff Matthews—The lawman trusted his friend to protect Sarah and her son.

Jeremy Hutchins—All he wanted was a father. But he needed a hero to save his life.

For my first hero, my dad, Jack Childs.

And for all the love and support of my HUGE, WONDERFUL family, my friends and fellow writers, the Ditzy Chix and our fun and loyal Chix-a-dees!

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

Epilogue

Death hung in the air. The medicinal smell of it pervaded the hospital’s Intensive Care Unit. The bright lights in the hall illuminated the dread on the pinched faces of those who waited for word of it.

Death.

Royce Graham shrugged out of his rain-darkened overcoat, ran an unsteady hand over his wet hair and stepped close to a man who leaned against the corridor wall. “Father.”

The older man turned. He’d aged since Royce had seen him last. Lines rimmed the thin, compressed lips. His hair had slipped from silver to white. “You came.” Surprise lit the faded blue eyes.

“You called.”

“He wants you.”

A breath hitched in Royce’s chest. His father didn’t want him, wouldn’t have called for him unless he’d been asked. The rejection wasn’t new, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. “Why?”

“He’s dying, Royce.” A grimace twisted the man’s stern face.

Royce curled his fingers into his palm, so he wouldn’t reach out. He had no comfort to offer his father while Donald Graham watched his best friend die, at least, none the old man would accept.

“I’m sorry. What happened?” He figured a heart attack. These men lived on power and thrived on high-stress business dealings.

“He was shot.” Donald Graham’s voice cracked, and impotent rage surged into his eyes. “Someone shot him.”

“Who?”

A ragged sigh slipped through those thin lips. “He surprised someone breaking into his den. He never saw who, but the bastard shot him and cleaned out his safe—money, will, everything.”

Donald ran a trembling hand through his white hair. “I told him again and again to get a security system, especially after the break-ins at the company. He could probably have worked a deal when we upped security there. The cheap fool.”

Despite the brevity of the situation, Royce’s mouth tipped up with wry amusement. His father expected people to do as he told them. “So, he can speak?”

Annoyance narrowed Donald’s eyes. “I told you he asked for you. I don’t know why. He’ll tell only you what he wants. Get in there. The doctors say he doesn’t have much time.”

Royce’s heart beat slow and heavy with dread. Bart McCarthy had always been a strong presence in his life. His godfather. “Where?” He gestured toward the door beside his father. “In there?”

Donald nodded and took the overcoat from Royce’s arm. “He wants to talk to you alone.” Bitterness laced his father’s words.

Royce stepped around him and pushed open the door. Machines beeped and made wheezing noises as Bart McCarthy gasped for each breath. Tubes connected to his frail body: IVs, oxygen…