Ryanne Corey - The Sheriff and The Amnesiac

Jenny smiled up at him. “Maybe my problem is contagious. Have you ever thought of that?”

“Maybe you’re contagious.”

“Poor Sheriff Cook. Saddled with contagious me. And I know how much you want to get rid of me.”

She stared at the cleft in his stubborn chin. Up to his lashes, which were indecently long for a man and curled at the tips. His lips were also in her line of vision, and she couldn’t help remembering what they had felt like on hers. Cowboy, she thought. Rugged, tough…sweet…

Without thinking, she kissed him again.

He stood frozen in the doorway, looking down at her with comical disbelief. “What was that for?”

She smiled innocently. “I have no idea. Maybe you’re contagious….”

Dear Reader,

Welcome to Silhouette Desire! This month we’ve created a brand-new lineup of passionate, powerful and provocative love stories just for you.

Begin your reading enjoyment with Ride the Thunder by Lindsay McKenna, the September MAN OF THE MONTH and the second book in this beloved author’s cross-line series, MORGAN’S MERCENARIES: ULTIMATE RESCUE. An amnesiac husband recovers his memory and returns to his wife and child in The Secret Baby Bond by Cindy Gerard, the ninth title in our compelling DYNASTIES: THE CONNELLYS continuity series.

Watch a feisty beauty fall for a wealthy lawman in The Sheriff & the Amnesiac by Ryanne Corey. Then meet the next generation of MacAllisters in Plain Jane MacAllister by Joan Elliott Pickart, the newest title in THE BABY BET: MACALLISTER’S GIFTS.

A night of passion leads to a marriage of convenience between a gutsy heiress and a macho rodeo cowboy in Expecting Brand’s Baby, by debut Desire author Emilie Rose. And in Katherine Garbera’s new title, The Tycoon’s Lady falls off the stage into his arms at a bachelorette auction, as part of our popular BRIDAL BID theme promotion.

Savor all six of these sensational new romances from Silhouette Desire today.

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

is the award-winning author of over twenty romance novels. She is also the recipient of the Romantic Times Lifetime Achievement Award. She finds the peace and beauty of the mountains very conducive to writing, and currently lives in the beautiful Rocky Mountains of Utah. She has long believed in the healing power of love and laughter, and enjoys nothing more than bringing a smile to a reader’s face.

You can write to her at 520 C. North Main, Suite 321, Heber City, Utah, 84032.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

Jenny Kyle was getting a headache. This particular headache began with a capital “T,” as in trapped. Quite simply, she couldn’t stand being constrained in any way, shape or form. Especially when it wasn’t her fault.

At least she was an optimistic claustrophobic. As soon as she had everything sorted out with the strong arm of the law, she would leave this unfriendly town of Bridal Veil Falls—Bride Falls on Her Head was more like it, she thought wryly—in the dust. Her headache would be only a memory. One SOS call to good old Lawyer Dearbourne would solve everything. He knew she wasn’t a criminal, at least not a deliberate criminal. It was simply her poor luck that she’d lost her wallet, cash and credit cards. Although she had no doubt she would get a stern lecture when her attorney heard about Jenny’s spur-of-the-moment cross-country motorcycle trip.

“He’s here.” The waitress stuck her finger beneath Jenny’s nose and pointed out the window. “That’s the sheriff. You’re toast.”

Jenny turned her head, dark brown eyes widening as she watched a shiny black police car pulling up in the parking lot. Her headache kicked into high gear. Her palms began to sweat. The door swung open and a pair of dusty cowboy boots hit the ground. Jenny had hoped for a kindly soul, someone who would say, “Golly, shucks,” and have a good chuckle at all these misunderstandings.

Instead, she got the Gladiator of Bridal Veil Falls.

He stepped out into the fading sunlight, a full six-foot four inches of masculine intimidation wrapped up in a slim-fitting beige police uniform. His shoulders went on forever, his hips were narrow, his stomach tight and flat. She couldn’t see much of his face; he wore a cowboy hat pulled low over his forehead. He also wore dark glasses. Jenny had never seen a jaw so square or a chin so intimidating. And those straight lips could have been chiseled from marble.

Jenny dropped her head into her arms on the table. “This is not my day.”

The front door opened and closed. Jenny heard slow, measured steps growing louder and louder…until they stopped right in front of her. She couldn’t bring herself to look up.

“Is this the one?”

His deep voice had a no-nonsense tone. There wasn’t a trace of a friendly country accent. Jenny’s optimism shriveled up like a grape in the sun. She wondered how old she would be before she got out of jail.

The waitress started spilling the whole story from the beginning. She concluded with a disdainful, “Funny thing, sheriff, how she didn’t notice her wallet was gone until after she ate enough food for ten people.”

“I resent that.” Jenny looked up, glaring at the waitress. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the sheriff quite yet. “I ate a well-balanced meal. You try hanging on to a runaway motorcycle for eight hours and see how hungry you get.”

Came the unsympathetic voice of the sheriff: “So that Harley outside is yours?”

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to meet the sheriff’s sunglasses squarely. “Maybe. At this point, I’m taking the Fifth on everything.”

For a long, uncomfortable moment, he didn’t say anything. At this close range, Jenny could see the manly dent in his manly chin. His slanted cheekbones were perfectly molded, his nose perfectly straight, his posture everything a Marine Corps recruiting poster could ask for. It must be true, she thought glumly, what everyone said about the healthful benefits of fresh country air.

The Gladiator pursed his lips and whistled softly. “What do you know? It’s you.”

Jenny frowned at him, wondering what he was trying to trick her into admitting. “No, it’s not. I don’t know what or who you’re talking about, but I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just an innocent traveler who happened to lose her wallet. Believe me, I would have taken a detour if I’d known you people in Bride Falls on Her Head were so paranoid and unfriendly.”

“Bridal Veil Falls,” he corrected, a faint smile curling his lips. “You know, the minute I saw your red hair, I knew I was looking at trouble.”

Jenny glared at him, then slid out from the booth, brushing tortilla crumbs off her jeans as she stood up. It was time she adopted a defensive attitude. She felt at a distinct disadvantage sitting. Still, at five foot two she didn’t gain much height. If he put his arm out straight, it would go right over her curly head. “Let’s talk about trouble. I was hungry, so I decided to stop and get something to eat. Before I know it, I’m being accused of all kinds of things I didn’t do. At least, I didn’t do them intentionally. I’m not some career criminal who travels from town to town on her motorcycle ripping off Mexican restaurants—” she threw the waitress a dark look “—despite what she seems to think. And I’ll tell you something else.”