New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery invites you back to Fool’s Gold, where a newcomer to town might finally meet the man she never knew she needed…
Angel Whittaker earned his scars the hard way, but the scars that can’t be seen are the ones that haunt him the most. Since he moved to Fool’s Gold, California, he’s cobbled together a life for himself as a bodyguard trainer. If he’s not exactly happy, at least his heart is safe.
Working with pro-football superstars taught tough-talking PR woman Taryn Crawford one thing—she can go toe-to-toe with any man. But then dark, dangerous former Special Ops Angel targets her for seduction…and challenges her to resist his tempting kisses.
Even in four-inch heels, Taryn never backs down. Unless, somehow, Angel can convince her that surrender might feel even better than victory.
Praise for New York Times bestselling author
Susan Mallery
“This book is a dynamite read filled with humor, compassion and sexy sizzle.”
—RT Book Reviews on Three Little Words, Top Pick!
“Both smile and tear inducing.
Mallery is one of a kind.”
—RT Book Reviews on Two of a Kind, Top Pick!
“Mallery delivers another engaging romance
in magical Fool’s Gold.”
—Kirkus Reviews on Just One Kiss
“In her second Blackberry Island novel, Mallery has again created an engrossing tale of emotional growth and the healing power of friendship as these three ‘sisters’ meet life’s challenges.”
—Library Journal on Three Sisters
“The wildly popular and prolific Mallery
can always be counted on to tell an engaging story
of modern romance.”
—Booklist on Summer Nights
“Mallery infuses her story with eccentricity, gentle humor, and small-town shenanigans, and readers...
will enjoy the connection between Heidi and Rafe.”
—Publishers Weekly on Summer Days
“Romance novels don’t get much better than Mallery’s expert blend of emotional nuance,
humor and superb storytelling.”
—Booklist
“Susan Mallery is one of my favorites.”
—#1 New York Times bestselling author
Debbie Macomber
When We Met
Susan Mallery
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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There are few things in this world that are as amazing as my readers. I’ll admit there are plentyof wonderful miracles, but on the amazing front, my readers win, hands down. Here’s an example.
For five years, Fool’s Gold has been “The Land of Happy Endings.” For story reasons, I decided to make a change. When you read this book, you’ll see why. I hope you think the circumstances are as funny as I do. But I wasn’t feeling especially brilliant that week and couldn’t seem to come up with anything remotely workable. So I asked for help on Facebook—as I often do—and my amazing readers came through with fabulous suggestions for a new slogan.
The most amazing one came from Crystal B. So this book is dedicated to her. For being brilliant and lovely. Thank you, Crystal. And Mayor Marsha thanks you, too!
Contents
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
Chapter Twenty
Extract
CHAPTER ONE
“WE BOTH KNOW where this is going.”
Taryn Crawford glanced up at the man standing by her table and ignored the rush of anticipation when she saw who he was. He was tall, with broad shoulders and gray eyes. But the most compelling feature—the one she would guess people pretended didn’t exist—was the scar on his neck. As if someone had once tried to slit his throat. Taryn idly wondered what had happened to the person who failed.
She supposed there were plenty of women who would be intimidated by the man in front of her. The sheer volume of muscle he had might make someone apprehensive. Not her, of course. When in doubt she put on a power suit and killer heels. If those failed her, she would simply work harder than anyone else. Whatever it took to win. Sure, there was a price, but she was okay with that.
Which was why she was able to stare coolly back and ask, “Do we?”
One corner of his mouth curved slightly in a sort of half smile. “Sure, but if you’re more comfortable pretending we don’t, I can make that work, too.”
“A challenge. Intriguing. You don’t expect that to be enough to make me defensive so I start saying more than I had planned, do you?” She made sure she was plenty relaxed in her chair. She would guess the man was paying as much attention to her body language as her words. Maybe more. She hoped he wouldn’t make things easy. She was tired of easy.
“I would hate for you to be disappointed,” she murmured.
The smile turned genuine. “I’d hate that, too.” He pulled out the chair opposite hers. “May I?”
She nodded. He sat.
It was barely after ten on a Tuesday morning. Brew-haha, the local coffee place she’d escaped to for a few minutes of solitude before she returned to the current chaos at her office, was relatively quiet. She’d ordered a latte and had pulled out her tablet to catch up on the latest financial news. Until she’d been interrupted. Nice to know this was going to be a good day.
She studied the man across from her. He was older than the boys, she thought. The three men she worked with—Jack, Sam and Kenny, aka “the boys”—were all in their early to mid-thirties. Her guest was nearer to forty. Just old enough to have the experience to make things intriguing, she thought.
“We’ve never been introduced,” she said.
“You know who I am.”
A statement, not a question. “Do I?”
One dark eyebrow rose. “Angel Whittaker. I work at CDS.”
Otherwise known as the bodyguard school, she reminded herself. For a small town, Fool’s Gold had its share of unusual businesses.
“Taryn Crawford.”
She waited, but he didn’t make a move.
“We’re not shaking hands?” she asked, then picked up her latte with both hers. Just to be difficult, because being difficult would make things more fun.
“I figured we’d save the touching for later. I find it’s better when that sort of thing happens in private.”
Taryn had opened Score, her PR firm, eight years ago. She’d had to deal with unwelcome passes, assumptions she was an idiot, being asked who the boss was, pats on her butt and people presuming that if she worked with three ex-football players, she must have gotten her job by sleeping with them. She was used to staying calm, keeping her opinions to herself and gaining victory through the unanticipated side run.
This time Angel had been the one to put the first points on the board. He was good, she thought, intrigued and only slightly miffed.
“Are you coming on to me, Mr. Whittaker? Because it’s still a little early in the morning for that sort of thing.”
“You’ll know when I’m making my move,” he informed her. “Right now I’m simply telling you how things are.”
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