Jo Leigh - Christmas Stalking

Her gaze moved down to the patch job she’d done on the bullet wound. Except for the blood that had soaked the comforter, it didn’t look bad. But his shorts had to come off.

Jade got the scissors and cut them straight up both sides. She hesitated before pulling them down, then realized she was being ridiculous. Which didn’t stop her from staring at him once she got his underwear clear.

With a jolt, she realized what she’d just done. She’d saved his life. Her kidnapper’s life. No. Max’s life. Her perception of him had changed. A lot. Maybe it was the fact that he’d called the police to tell them they’d gotten the wrong man. Or perhaps it was the fact that he’d been willing to let her go, at such great personal cost.

Damn, how could she care? She didn’t know him. Not really. But damn it, she did care.

Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

Our romantic suspense lineup this month promises to give you a lot to look forward to this holiday season!

We start off with Full Exposure, the second book in Debra Webb’s miniseries COLBY AGENCY: INTERNAL AFFAIRS. The ongoing investigation into the agency’s security leak heats up as a beautiful single mom becomes a pawn in a ruthless decimation plot. Next up…will wedding bells lead to murder? Find out in Hijacked Honeymoon—the fourth book in Susan Kearney’s HEROES, INC. series. Then Mallory Kane continues her ULTIMATE AGENTS stories with A Protected Witness—an edgy mystery about a vulnerable widow who puts her life in an FBI special agent’s hands.

November’s ECLIPSE selection is guaranteed to tantalize you to the core! The Man from Falcon Ridge is a spellbinding gothic tale about a primitive falcon trainer who swoops to the rescue of a tormented woman. Does she hold the key to a grisly unsolved murder—and his heart? And you’ll want to curl up in front of the fire to savor Christmas Stalking by Jo Leigh, which pits a sexy Santa-in-disguise against a strong-willed senator’s daughter when he takes her into his protective custody. Finally this month, unwrap Santa Assignment, an intense mystery by Delores Fossen. The clock is ticking when a desperate father moves heaven and earth to save the woman who could give his toddler son a Christmas miracle.

Enjoy all six!

Sincerely,

Denise O’Sullivan

Senior Editor

Harlequin Intrigue

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Jo Leigh lives way the heck up on a mountain in Utah with her own personal hero and her many chipmunk friends. She loves to hear from readers at http://www.joleigh.com.

Max Travis—When all the evidence points to him as a cold-blooded killer, Jade is his last and only hope.

Jade Parker—In order to save her father’s reputation, must she destroy the man she loves?

Senator William Parker—His terrible secrets have put his daughter in the crosshairs of a killer.

C. J. Harris—With billions at stake, he’ll stop at nothing—including murder—to get what he wants.

Joseph Retik—He only has one objective: to get rid of anyone in the way.

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

Pain woke him. A sharp poke in the ribs. Max Travis groaned as he struggled to open his eyes. Cold, biting cold, made his movements as stiff as the slab of rock beneath him.

“You can’t sleep here.” A cop, bundled in a heavy winter coat, stood scowling above him.

Max blinked, dizziness making it hard to focus, disorientation making it impossible to think. “Where am I?”

“On my beat, so get your ass up and out of here. I don’t care where you go, but you can’t stay here.”

Max put his elbow on the cold stone and pushed himself into a sitting position. Everything ached, and when he rubbed his eyes he found ice crystals on his lashes. He cursed as he fought to get his bearings, to figure out what the hell was going on.

The cop gave him one more jab in the side with his nightstick. “The soup kitchen is on Fourth. Don’t let me find you out here again.”

Max didn’t bother with a response. He had other things to worry about. Like the fact that he could barely move his fingers. That he had no idea where he was, or how he’d gotten here. The last thing he could remember was the bar last night. He’d had a drink with a couple of guys from the paper. Which would have explained things, except, he’d been drinking soda. He hadn’t touched booze for over six months.

He shifted on what he saw was marble. Marble? He turned, the motion making him groan, and not a little nauseous. Behind him, Abraham Lincoln sat impervious to the weather. The Lincoln Memorial? What the…?

He stood up too quickly and had to grab the corner of the bench. All he could manage were a few deep breaths, the cold hurting his lungs. What the hell had happened to him? His head pounded with pain so intense he couldn’t think at all. It helped to focus on his scratchy throat. What he wouldn’t do for a bottle or ten of aspirin.

When he opened his eyes, the cop had gone and the tourists, drawn to the Lincoln statue, gave him a wide berth. If he looked like he felt, he didn’t blame them.

He didn’t think he was going to vomit, but he moved slowly nonetheless, turning toward the street. His car was nowhere in sight, which wasn’t surprising. What did surprise him was that his wallet was still in his pocket, along with his credit cards, driver’s license and thirteen dollars. So were his keys.

It was Monday. At least he hoped it was. He was supposed to meet his friend and colleague Peter Shelby at the café, then go in to work to face J.G. He cursed, scaring an Asian woman walking her baby. It occurred to him that he still had his watch. Four past seven. Monday. So it was only the one night he couldn’t account for.

Again, he thought about the bar. He’d ordered a soda, even though Jeremy had called him a little girl. It hadn’t bothered him. Not ordering his favorite scotch had, but that was between him and his maker. Whom he’d clearly almost met overnight.

Max headed toward Twenty-third street. He could catch a cab there and go back to the bar, see if his car was still parked around the corner. Then he’d call Pete, cancel the breakfast chat. He had two hours to get his act together before seeing his boss, and he’d need an hour of that for a shower.

As he walked, his head cleared. It didn’t feel a whole lot better, but his thoughts clarified a little. Enough to figure out that he’d been slipped a Mickey. Something damn strong to have wiped everything after it right off the slate.

Why? Who?

The only thing he could think of was Geotech. The woman. The redhead. She’d come on to him, using a fine set of double D’s and the most incredible red lips, and he’d been putty in her hands. Ready to swim great oceans, or at the very least buy her dinner.

And then, nothing. No memories until the cop had jabbed him. A royal headache, the taste of many pairs of army boots in his mouth, and a terrible feeling that his investigation into Senator William Parker and Geotech had gone from the suspect to the criminal. He wasn’t just close to the truth, he was right on ground zero.