Ruth Langan - Retribution

She smiled. “And here I was thinking how different we are.”

“In what way?”

“You’re at home any place in the world. I’m only happy when I’m here in Devil’s Cove. You willingly put yourself in harm’s way for the sake of your job. I’m the biggest coward in the world. I can’t imagine having the courage to face down danger over and over again.”

“But what about the perils of everyday life? There are different degrees of danger. You never know how much courage you have until you’re called upon to face a challenge.”

He took her empty mug from her hand and gathered her into his arms. “Enough talk about how alike or different we are. There’s one thing we can absolutely agree on.”

Whatever she’d been about to say was gone from her mind in an instant as, with one kiss, one touch, she lost herself in the pleasure he offered….

Dear Reader,

The weather’s hot, and so are all six of this month’s Silhouette Intimate Moments books. We have a real focus on miniseries this time around, starting with the last in Ruth Langan’s DEVIL’S COVE quartet, Retribution. Mix a hero looking to heal his battered soul, a heroine who gives him a reason to smile again and a whole lot of danger, and you’ve got a recipe for irresistible reading.

Linda Turner’s back—after way too long—with the first of her new miniseries, TURNING POINTS. A beautiful photographer who caught the wrong person in her lens has no choice but to ask the cops—make that one particular cop—for help, and now both her life and her heart are in danger of being lost. FAMILY SECRETS: THE NEXT GENERATION continues with Marie Ferrarella’s Immovable Objects, featuring a heroine who walks the line between legal, illegal—and love. Dangerous Deception from Kylie Brant continues THE TREMAINE TRADITION of mixing suspense and romance—not to mention sensuality—in doses no reader will want to resist. And don’t miss our standalone titles, either. Cindy Dees introduces you to A Gentleman and A Soldier in a military reunion romance that will have your heart pounding and your fingers turning the pages as fast as they can. Finally, welcome Mary Buckham, whose debut novel, The Makeover Mission, takes a plain Jane and turns her into a princess—literally. Problem is, this princess is in danger, and now so is Jane.

Enjoy them all—and come back next month for the best in romantic excitement, only from Silhouette Intimate Moments.

Yours,

Leslie J. Wainger

Executive Editor

is an award-winning and bestselling author of contemporary and historical romance. Her books have been finalists for the Romance Writers of America’s (RWA) RITA ®Award. Over the years, she has given dozens of print, radio and TV interviews, including Good Morning America and CNN News, and has been quoted in such diverse publications as the Wall Street Journal, Cosmopolitan and the Detroit Free Press. Married to her childhood sweetheart, she has raised five children and lives in Michigan, the state where she was born and raised. Ruth enjoys hearing from her readers. Letters can be sent via e-mail to ryanlangan@aol.com or via her Web site at www.ryanlangan.com.

To Tom, with love

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Epilogue

Tuscany—1998

Sidney Brennan worked quickly to catch the last rays of the fading sunlight that fanned over the pale, sun-washed landscape. The distant villa, with its stucco walls and tiled roof, was framed with those long rows of grapevines that grew in such profusion. She mixed the paints on her palette until she had the perfect shade of light that tinted the hills surrounding the village in hues of terra-cotta and burnt umber.

At last she set down her paints and took a moment to assess her work. Though she’d captured the feeling of the place where she was staying, the painting didn’t move her. Instead, it left her feeling empty.

Like her life. Like her heart. Like her future.

The best that could be said about it was that it was merely adequate. There was no passion. No fire. Anyone looking at it would recognize this place. But would they feel the burning desire to live here? Did the painting call to them?

What was calling to her was food. She touched a hand to her middle and realized she’d forgotten to eat. Again. Picking up the canvas and paints, the easel and stool, she lugged them across the field and stowed them just inside the door of the villa before going to the kitchen in search of food. Half an hour later she sat on a little balcony and nibbled cheese and bread, washing it down with wine while she watched the sun set over those glorious, purple-hued hills.

This lovely old villa in Tuscany was to have been her haven while her heart healed and she immersed herself in the great passion of her life. She’d come to this place to follow a dream. Instead, it had become her prison. The solitude she had always enjoyed was now filled with utter loneliness. She was bedeviled with memories. Memories that had begun to affect her work. Though she was perfectly capable of capturing the light, the scenery, the feelings of this place, there was no denying that the work she was turning out was mediocre at best.

Sipping her wine she closed her eyes to the beauty around her and drifted back to the month before graduating college.

Silver mylar balloons floated above the hospital bed, anchored by an ice bucket painted with a happy face. Champagne and tulip glasses were cooling on ice. The groom-to-be, too weak to stand, lay surrounded by pillows. He wore a tuxedo jacket over his hospital gown, with a white rosebud pinned to his lapel. His mother and father stood beside the bed, exchanging anxious, worried looks.

The entire Brennan family was there. Judge Frank Brennan, who would perform the ceremony, stood beside his wife Alberta, whom everybody called Bert. Their daughter-in-law Charlotte, nicknamed Charley, stood with her daughters Emily, Hannah and Courtney, dressed in pale pink confections that made them look like prom queens. “The Wedding March” drifted over the intercom, and patients and their families stood in the doorways of their rooms to watch as the young bride, dressed in a traditional white-lace gown, walked slowly along the hallway on the arm of her father, Dr. Christopher Brennan. As they progressed to the groom’s bed, those on the cardiac floor who were mobile followed, until the room and the hallway outside were filled to over-flowing with curious onlookers.

The bride settled herself on the edge of the bed beside her husband-to-be, and handed her bouquet to her sister, Emily. When the music ended, the young couple joined hands.

The judge cleared his throat. “Dearly beloved.” He swallowed the lump that threatened, and forced himself to continue in a strong clear voice. “We are gathered together for the most joyous of occasions. The union of this man to this woman in holy matrimony.” He closed his book and glanced around. “Sidney and Curt have written their own ceremony, and ask only that we share this moment and offer our blessings.”