Karen Whiddon - Tempting The Dragon

“Are you okay?” Rance asked, holding on for a heartbeat too long before releasing her.

She decided to be honest. “Not really. I’m confused and a bit unsettled.”

“I’m sorry.”

“If you really were sorry, you’d leave town.”

“Ah, you know I can’t do that.”

Somehow Jade had suspected he’d say that. “Can’t? Or won’t?”

“Good point.” As they climbed over another rocky patch, he once again took her arm. And once again, she had to pretend her skin didn’t tingle from the contact. Funny thing that. She hadn’t realized she could be capable of such tangled emotions. She both wanted the man gone and to wrap herself around him and never let him go.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KAREN WHIDDONstarted weaving fanciful tales for her younger brothers at eleven. Amid the Catskill Mountains, then the Rocky Mountains, she fueled her imagination with the natural beauty surrounding her. Karen lives in north Texas and shares her life with her hero of a husband and three doting dogs. You can email Karen at KWhiddon1@aol.comor write to her at P.O. Box 820807, Fort Worth, TX 76182, USA. Fans can also check out her website, www.karenwhiddon.com.

To my father, Charles J. Corcoran. He fell ill right before I started this book and sadly passed away when I was about a hundred pages into writing it.

I will always miss him. Love you, Dad. Always.

Contents

Cover

Introduction “Are you okay?” Rance asked, holding on for a heartbeat too long before releasing her. She decided to be honest. “Not really. I’m confused and a bit unsettled.” “I’m sorry.” “If you really were sorry, you’d leave town.” “Ah, you know I can’t do that.” Somehow Jade had suspected he’d say that. “Can’t? Or won’t?” “Good point.” As they climbed over another rocky patch, he once again took her arm. And once again, she had to pretend her skin didn’t tingle from the contact. Funny thing that. She hadn’t realized she could be capable of such tangled emotions. She both wanted the man gone and to wrap herself around him and never let him go.

Title Page Tempting The Dragon Karen Whiddon www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author KAREN WHIDDON started weaving fanciful tales for her younger brothers at eleven. Amid the Catskill Mountains, then the Rocky Mountains, she fueled her imagination with the natural beauty surrounding her. Karen lives in north Texas and shares her life with her hero of a husband and three doting dogs. You can email Karen at KWhiddon1@aol.com or write to her at P.O. Box 820807, Fort Worth, TX 76182, USA. Fans can also check out her website, www.karenwhiddon.com .

Dedication To my father, Charles J. Corcoran. He fell ill right before I started this book and sadly passed away when I was about a hundred pages into writing it. I will always miss him. Love you, Dad. Always.

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

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

“A lake monster?” The elderly man peered at Rance Sleighter as if he’d shown up drunk at church on Easter Sunday. Never mind that they were standing in front of Rex’s Hardware store on Main Street in the small town of Forestwood, New York. Upstate New York, which Rance understood as anywhere north of New York City.

“Yes, a lake monster,” Rance repeated patiently, mentally wishing, as he still did several times a day, for a beer. The craving never went away, but at least now he knew he was strong enough to resist it. He hadn’t been once, right after his wife, Violet, had died. His drinking had cost him too much for him to ever go back.

Meanwhile, he had to think of Eve. As usual, the thought of his tiny stepdaughter made his gut clench. He’d loved her since the moment he’d met her, when he and her mother had started dating. Luckily for all of them, Eve’s human father, Jim, and her mother had remained on civil, almost friendly terms. Rance and Violet had even invited Jim to their wedding.

Now Violet was dead and Eve lay seriously ill in a hospital bed in Houston, silent except for the steady beeping of the machines. Though Jim had taken custody, he’d allowed Rance full visitation. The two men had remained friends, sharing Eve’s love.

She couldn’t die. She wouldn’t die. He wouldn’t let her. The thought strengthened his resolve. Eve was why he’d come here. No matter what, he refused to let her down. He’d do anything for his little girl. Even find a lake monster.

“The story has traveled all over the country. It’s the reason I’m here. You can’t tell me you haven’t heard about it.”

The old man puffed up at that. “Harrumph. I might have heard nonsense, but you won’t catch me discussing it. You want to talk lake monsters, go talk to the witch’s family.”

“The what?”

“You heard me.” Pointing a shaky finger north, the codger grimaced. “Burnett family. Daughter is a witch. I’m sure they’ll be delighted to discuss lake monsters with you.”

And then, while Rance struggled to formulate a reply, the old-timer stomped off, heading across the street toward a restaurant titled Mother Earth’s Café.

As small towns went, Forestwood had a picturesque, holiday-postcard-type of appeal. The brilliant reds and orange of the fall leaves helped. In Houston, where Rance was from, they didn’t have much of an autumn. When the trees did shed their leaves, they just sort of turned yellow and fell off.

He took another glance around him, charmed despite himself. It almost felt as if he’d stepped back in time. Fully restored old buildings lined Main Street, and all of the houses surrounding downtown were large and beautiful and...old. Painted and pretty, but from another era.

Not his thing. Rance grimaced. Give him a sleek modern condo downtown in any large city any day. Much less upkeep, especially for a guy who lived the way he did—constantly on the move in search of the next story. If he were to be perfectly honest, which he usually was, a guy who stayed on the run from his internal demons.

Dramatic, too, he supposed. Guess that was what investigative journalism and losing his family had done to him. Lifting his camera, he snapped a few shots of the street with the beautiful trees in the background. Nice to get a sense of place to go with the story.

His stomach growled, reminding him it had been a while since he’d eaten. What the hell, Mother Earth’s Café sounded as good as anything else. He could go for a juicy hamburger right now.

As soon as he stepped inside, Rance took note of how many diners were crowded into the small room. That might have been due to the restaurant’s relatively tiny size or the fact that he hadn’t noticed any other eating establishments in the immediate vicinity. Whatever the reason, the scent of good food—beef and fried chicken among other things—made his mouth water.

Taking a stool at the lunch counter, he checked out the place’s leftover-from-the-seventies vibe. Perfect. Surely someone in here would have no problem telling him about the region’s very own mythical beast. A local Loch Ness monster would be a great way to attract tourists to this out of the way town. He’d think someone would have gone out of their way to promote it already.