Aimee Thurlo - Navajo Justice

Burke placed his arm around her waist

Leaning over her seductively, he whispered in Laura’s ear. “Elena has told everyone that I’m your boyfriend, so I think we should make it look convincing. If it helps you to get the right look in your eyes, you could try picturing me naked.”

A vivid image of Burke that day she’d caught him just out of the shower suddenly popped into her mind—but her imagination kicked in and she saw him dropping the towel he’d wrapped around him. Her mouth went dry and her heart began to pound.

Burke gave her an utterly charming smile. “Ah, I see it worked. Your cheeks are flushed.”

“They are not,” she protested quickly, then, looking around, saw they were being watched by a couple dancing past. Laura forced herself to smile.

“That’s better. Keep smiling and let’s dance. That’ll help,” Burke said.

“No, it won’t. I’m an awful dancer. I’ll step on you.”

Burke grabbed her hand and led her out onto the dance floor. “I’ll risk it.”

Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

The suspenseful tales we offer you this month are much scarier than Halloween’s ghouls and ghosts! So bring out your trick-or-treating bag and gather up all four exciting stories.

And do we have a treat for you—a brand-new 3-in-1 compilation featuring authors Rebecca York, Ann Voss Peterson and Patricia Rosemoor. Ten years ago, three men were cursed by a Gypsy woman bent on vengeance. Now they must race to find a killer—and true love’s kiss may just break the evil spell they’re under in Gypsy Magic.

Next, Aimée Thurlo concludes her two-book miniseries SIGN OF THE GRAY WOLF, with Navajo Justice. And Susan Kearney starts a new trilogy, THE CROWN AFFAIR, in which royalty of the country of Vashmira must battle palace danger and treachery, while finding true love along the way. Look for Royal Target this month.

When Jennifer Ballard dreamed of her wedding day, it never included murder! But no one would harm the beautiful bride, not if Colby Agency investigator Ethan Delaney had anything to say about it. Pick up Contract Bride for yet another nail-biter from Debra Webb.

Happy reading!

Denise O’Sullivan

Associate Senior Editor

Harlequin Intrigue

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Aimée Thurlo is a nationally known bestselling author. She’s written forty-one novels and is published in at least twenty countries worldwide. She has been nominated for the Reviewer’s Choice Award and the Career Achievement Award by Romantic Times magazine.

She also cowrites the Ella Clah mainstream mystery series, which debuted with a starred review in Publishers Weekly and has been optioned by CBS.

Aimée was born in Havana, Cuba, and lives with her husband of thirty years in Corrales, New Mexico. Her husband, David, was raised on the Navajo Indian Reservation.

Handler—Just who was the faceless owner of Gray Wolf Investigations and why did he have so many friends in high places?

Burke Silentman—He had a debt to pay, and in that price lay his redemption.

Laura Santos—The men she wrote about were only fantasies until Burke Silentman rode up on his motorcycle.

Doug Begay—Though he was far away, his actions could exact the highest price on them all.

Karl Maurer—The Center was his life, but how much would he risk to keep it?

Nicole Maurer—Her husband knew the kind of company she was keeping—or did he?

Michael Enesco—He was an outsider and that made him the object of suspicion. But was some of it deserved?

To Pat and Jack Kelly—

the best neighbors anyone could ever want.

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

Epilogue

It was a beautiful morning in late March. The sky was a clear, almost brilliant blue, the air clean and crisp—the kind of day where the breeze whispered of dreams that were still in the making, and songbirds celebrated the coming of spring.

Laura Santos drove home from the post office slowly, taking back streets off the main highway that, although graveled and bumpy, gave a great glimpse into the true character of the small New Mexico town. One-story houses stood like sentinels between fields of sandy soil dotted with tall clumps of blue-green sage and eager green-and-yellow native grasses. Horses wandered lazily, seeking the fresh green fare. Their slowly shedding, thick winter coats were now the only reminder of the long, cold months behind them.

Today, she could afford to take her time and enjoy the day. She’d finally finished her latest novel, Dawn of Desire. It was the story of a wounded ex-soldier who’d come home to find the love he’d left behind. Laura sighed. It had been a beautiful love story with a delicious hero. Best of all, the book had flowed easily, as did most tales told from the heart.

Restless now, she wondered how to celebrate the completion of the book. There was no special man in her life. The relationships she’d had in the past hadn’t worked out for one reason or another, and she wasn’t the kind of woman who’d settle for a man who was “good enough.”

Of course, her life was simpler this way. Her work was very time consuming, and she also had her madrina, her godmother, to take care of, so her days were full. Although she dated occasionally, and had all the usual healthy urges, no one had ever really come close to touching her heart.

As she entered the more densely populated neighborhood where she lived, the pavement began and the dust level dropped noticeably. Turning onto the street that led to her home, Laura looked down the block and caught a glimpse of her new neighbor, Burke, sitting astride his motorcycle, adjusting something on the engine. The tall, black-haired Navajo man had the palest brown eyes she’d ever seen and a smile that, although rare, could undoubtedly coax a pulse out of a stone.

As she slowed to make the turn into her driveway, her gaze strayed over him. Looking up just then, Burke waved. She smiled back at him, feeling her heart start to beat a little faster.

Aware suddenly that she hadn’t been watching where she was going, she focused back on the turn, hoping she wasn’t about to hit the mailbox—again. She’d been checking him out last week, daydreaming, when she’d brushed against it with the front bumper. The pole that supported the box had broken off at the ground, and the custom-designed mailbox, shaped like a house, had ended up looking like something used in a television commercial to advertise tornado insurance. At least Burke had been stepping inside as she’d knocked it down, so she hadn’t had to make a lame excuse.