Alice Sharpe - Hidden Identity

HE “DIED” TO SAVE THE WOMAN HE LOVED.

Now her amnesia might save them both...

Faking his death was the only way for Adam Parish to stay alive. But when a suspicious helicopter crash reunites him with the woman he had to leave behind, Adam knows they’re both in danger. Unfortunately, Chelsea Pierce doesn’t remember who he is—or that she’s carrying his child. On the run from merciless killers, Adam vows to protect Chelsea and their baby. But once he reveals the truth, will he lose the woman he loves a second time?

ALICE SHARPEmet her husband-to-be on a cold, foggy beach in Northern California. Their union has survived the rearing of two children, a handful of earthquakes, numerous cats and a few special dogs, the latest of which is a yellow Lab named Annie Rose. Alice and her husband now live in a small rural town in Oregon, where she devotes the majority of her time to pursuing her second love, writing. You can write to her c/o Harlequin Books, 195 Broadway, 24th Floor, New York, NY 10007. An SASE for reply is appreciated.

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Hidden Identity

Alice Sharpe

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09371-2

HIDDEN IDENTITY

© 2019 Alice Sharpe

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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This book is dedicated, with love,

to Annabelle Marie Zi-Ling Yu.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

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

Epilogue

About the Publisher

It squatted on the tarmac like a bloated dragonfly, a little bigger and a lot older than she’d expected. Painted a drab green with half a dozen random splashes of other colors, it had obviously been in service for decades.

Chelsea had never flown in a helicopter before. She would have thought the stress of the past few weeks might have left her too worn-out for nerves, but nope, turned out that wasn’t the case. She held the bouquet of roses closer to her body and approached a man she took to be the pilot, who, wrench in hand, was peering into the open engine compartment. Was that a bad omen?

He looked up at the sound of her footsteps and broke into a welcoming grin. “You must be Ms. Pierce,” he said as he closed the cover and secured it.

“Chelsea, please. And you’re Mr. Black?”

“Heck, call me Bobby. Everyone does except my ex-wife and you don’t want to know the words she uses.” He tucked the wrench into his pocket, stuck out his hand, apparently noticed all the grease smudges and plucked a rag from his belt instead. Tall and rangy with a touch of gray in his hair, it was impossible not to hear the lingering drawl of Texas in his voice. Chelsea opened her purse and withdrew the requested money order, made out for the amount he’d specified. It was a lot of money for her, and now, as she peered over his shoulder at the aging chopper, she second-guessed her decision to hire him.

Really, would that thing fly? Was it safe?

He apparently sensed her hesitation. “Don’t underestimate old Gertie,” he said, patting the drab metal. “She’s been around, sure—heck, so have I—but we’re both fit as a fiddle. I have our route mapped out. I’ll get close enough to drop those roses.” His gaze darted from the flowers to the money order.

For a second, she contemplated walking away but her peace of mind was at stake and that was no small matter.

Chelsea had found this guy on the internet—he was the only one she could afford—and had spoken to him on the phone. She’d outlined her plan and been assured it was a piece of easy-peasy pie. Then she’d asked her sister, Lindy, to run the food truck for a few days and driven from San Francisco toward Nevada, spent the night in a motel where the cockroaches were bigger than her shoes, counted out fifty dollars for flowers and allowed her heart to embrace the possibility of closure.

And now she was going to give up because the helicopter looked a little...tired?

Steven’s face floated through her mind. Gray eyes that ranged in shade from hazy morning dawn to early evening twilight, lips that caused her heart to flutter, a killer body topped off by a soul as deep as the sea. With him, she’d embraced the concept of forever. And now he was gone.

How did a relationship that lasted only a few weeks produce such profound fallout including so many unanswered questions? Police found evidence of a struggle and gunshots in his empty house but no victims. She’d been frantic at first, then informed by various “officials” that Steven had driven to a small out-of-town airport, retrieved his plane and flown away.