Rhonda Nelson - The Survivor

Letters from Home

“This highly romantic tale

is filled with emotion and wonderful characters.

It’s a heart-melting romance.”

The Soldier

“Wonderfully written and heart-stirring, the story

flies by to the deeply satisfying ending.”

The Hell-Raiser

“A highly entertaining story that has

eccentric secondary characters, hot sex

and a heartwarming romance.”

The Loner

“A highly romantic story with two heartwarming

characters and a surprise ending.”

The Ranger

“Well plotted and wickedly sexy,

this one’s got it all—including a completely

scrumptious hero. A keeper.”

Dear Reader,

November is one of my favorite months of the year here in the South. Summer clings determinedly through the bulk of October, so November really ushers in our fall. The leaves turn, the breeze gets crisp and my husband and I are often on our deck in front the chimenea, warming our feet by a fire. We get to enjoy Thanksgiving without the rush of the Christmas holidays. And it’s a great time to curl up with a good book, isn’t it? (Hint, hint, nudge, nudge.)

When Lex Sanborn comes out of the military and goes to work for Ranger Security, the last thing he expects is to be paired up with Bess Cantrell, on the hunt for one of the few remaining “Wicked” Bibles. A printing error in the 1600s edition, which says, “Thou shalt commit adultery,” makes this particular Bible one of the most valuable books on the market. And the forced proximity with the sexy “picker” is most definitely keeping sinning at the forefront of his mind.

Nothing brings a smile to my face faster than hearing from my readers, so be sure to check out my website at www.ReadRhondaNelson.com. Also, the Blaze Authors have taken on a Pet Project. Be sure to visit www.blazeauthors.com to see what we’re up to and how you can help.

Happy reading!

Rhonda

www.millsandboon.co.uk

A Waldenbooks bestselling author, two-time RITA ®Award nominee and RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice nominee, Rhonda Nelson writes hot romantic comedy for the Harlequin Blaze line and other Harlequin imprints. With more than twenty-five published books to her credit and many more coming down the pike, she’s thrilled with her career and enjoys dreaming up her characters and manipulating the worlds they live in. In addition to a writing career, she has a husband, two adorable kids, a black Lab and a beautiful bichon frise. She and her family make their chaotic but happy home in a small town in northern Alabama. She loves to hear from her readers, so be sure and check her out at www.readrhondanelson.com.

For Beverly. I miss you.

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

Epilogue

LEX SANBORN HAD NEVER wondered what his last thoughts before dying would be, but he certainly hadn’t expected an intense craving for pineapple sherbet and having lines from American poet Alan Seeger’s I Have a Rendezvous with Death running through his mind.

I have a rendezvous with Death, at some disputed barricade, when Spring comes back with rustling shade, and apple blossoms fill the air…

The initial pain from the hit had receded, leaving a contented warmth in most of his body, an odd coldness at the site of the wound. His shoulder, he knew, more from the remembered pain of the injury and the absence of any real feeling now. Though he couldn’t open his eyes, he could hear them working above him, knew they were doing everything they could, and a part of him wanted to tell them to stop, to save someone who wasn’t going to die, that their efforts were wasted on him. He was finished. He could feel himself sliding further and further away, feel the blood leaving his body. Must have hit an artery…

But I’ve a rendezvous with Death, at midnight in some flaming town, when Spring trips north again this year…

“Lex! Lex, damn you, can you hear me?” Jeb, his best friend and fellow soldier, shouted near his ear.

He could, but as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t respond. Couldn’t do anything but drift away. He could feel himself getting smaller and smaller, shrinking into nothingness, and the nothingness felt wonderful, better than anything he’d ever felt before. A glow of euphoria started in his center and spread, his limbs going weightless. If he could have smiled, he would.

And I to my pledged word am true, I shall not fail that rendezvous.

Six months later…

FORMER RANGER TURNED newly minted security agent Lex Sanborn looked at the photocopied page of the Bible he’d been handed and felt his eyes widen in shock. “Thou shalt commit adultery?” Granted, he hadn’t been to church in years, but he certainly didn’t remember learning this particular version in Sunday school class.

Brian Payne, Jamie Flanagan and Guy McCann, owners of the elite security company who’d just hired him, all chuckled, presumably at his slack-jawed expression.

“That’s why it’s called the ‘Wicked Bible,’” Payne explained. “This version was printed—accidentally, of course—in 1636 and there are only believed to be eleven surviving copies in the world. The New York Public Library has one in its rare books section, there’s another in Branson, Missouri, at the Bible museum, and the British Library actually had it on display, opened to the page of the misprint, during part of ’09.”

“It’s very valuable,” Jamie chimed in. Sprawled in a leather recliner with a sports drink in his hand, he was affable and easygoing and Lex had liked him instantly. Had taken an immediate liking to all of them actually.

Jamie Flanagan had been the original player until he met and married Colonel Garrett’s granddaughter and purportedly sported a genius-level IQ. That quick brain combined with a substantial amount of brawn made him a force to be reckoned with. And with a lucky streak that bordered on the divine, Guy McCann’s ability to skate the thin line between recklessness and perfection was still locker-room lore.

Known in certain circles as the Specialist, Brian Payne was coolly efficient and had strategy down to an art form. With an unmatched attention to detail, there was no such thing as half-assed in his world. He didn’t tolerate it.

He was damned lucky to have a job here, Lex thought, thankful again to Colonel Carl Garrett for the recommendation. Was this what he’d imagined he’d be doing for the rest of his life? No. But six months ago he’d thought his life was over and that significantly changed things. Had changed him in ways that he wasn’t altogether proud of, in ways he’d never, ever anticipated.

“It’s worth around a hundred grand in today’s market,” Guy remarked.

Lex whistled low. Now it was beginning to make sense. He looked again at the picture Payne had handed him and searched the image for clues. The snapshot depicted an old Coca-Cola sign that had been propped up on a dusty counter covered with lots of other junk. A blue mason jar with a rusty lid, wooden spools, an old teakettle and— Ah, he thought, spying the black spine of the Wicked Bible just below the teakettle.