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Conard County Witness (Conard County: The Next Generation, 27, Band 1875) - Softcover

Buch 27 von 58: Conard County: The Next Generation

Lee, Rachel

 
9780373279456: Conard County Witness (Conard County: The Next Generation, 27, Band 1875)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0373279450 ISBN 13: 9780373279456
Verlag: Harlequin Romantic Suspense, 2015

Inhaltsangabe

In New York Times bestselling author Rachel Lee's newest Conard County romance, a killer stalks a wounded warrior and the woman he's vowed to protect 



I found you. The game begins. The note wasn't a threat exactly. But Jess McGregor senses danger. The wounded ex-soldier offers Lacy Devane a place to feel safe after her stint in witness protection. But someone is after her… Or is Jess the intended target? 

Jess and Lacy are practically strangers. And the powerful attraction stirring between them may feel like a betrayal to Jess's late wife—Lacy's closest friend. But as a big freeze envelops Conard County, the warmth and healing they find in their growing friendship will be put to the ultimate test by a deranged killer.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Rachel Lee was hooked on writing by the age of twelve and has lived all over the United States. This New York Times bestselling author now resides in upstate New York and writes full-time. Research is one of her favorite things along with the exciting life in Rochester.Rachel loves her pets nearly as much as her four children. She has had both dogs and cats and is currently enjoying the antics of Jazz, her bloodhound. She also calls him her "Gentle Giant."   

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Jess McGregor waited just down the block from Maude's diner at the Conard City bus station. Despite the chill of the late autumn day, he stood outside. His artificial leg was made largely of carbon composite and silicone, but the cold seemed to creep through it, making him ache.

But then, he was getting used to a missing leg that sometimes ached or screamed at him, even though it was gone. Phantom pain didn't feel very much like a phantom.

He waited for his late wife's best friend to arrive. They hadn't seen each other since the funeral five years ago, but they'd talked frequently on the phone since Sara's death, and when he learned that Lacy was afraid for her life, he wanted to make sure she didn't get off the bus in a strange town and not see someone she recognized.

At last, with a heavy chug of a diesel motor and brakes that squealed a little more than they should have, the bus pulled up. The doors opened and he waited with increasing impatience for the woman he was surprisingly eager to see again.

Then there she was, stepping down sideways and holding on to the bar to steady herself.

For an instant, a shaft of old grief speared him, nearly freezing him to the spot. He'd never seen Lacy without Sara, and part of him expected Sara to descend the steps right behind her. Impossible, stupid and the wrong way to feel. With effort, he subdued the pain. Sara was gone forever.

Five years didn't seem to have changed Lacy at all, except her heart-shaped face looked weary. Her long, flaxen hair was exactly as he remembered, gently curling, and her blue eyes, as bright as lasers, found him instantly. The weariness vanished from her face as she smiled and waved.

Even through her coat, he could tell she had lost weight. Not good. She'd been more worried than she had let on. The past couple of years had been hard on her.

Most of the people who climbed off the bus were either met by family or headed straight toward the diner to get some food before continuing their journey.

Lacy Devane strode right toward him. He tried not to limp as he walked toward her, but even after more than three years he had a bit of a hitch in his step. He tried not to do it because it wasn't good for his muscles and joints, but it still appeared from time to time. Especially when it was cold, like today.

"Jess!" She said his name warmly with a big smile and threw her arms around him in a hug. He reciprocated, wrapping her close and catching a whiff of her shampoo. Not since the funeral had he held a woman this close, and it struck him with a hard, unexpected and unwanted shaft of desire. This would not do.

He stepped back quickly. "Bags?" he asked.

She nodded. "Two suitcases. I can't thank you enough for this invitation, Jess. Probably more than anything, I need to get away from it all and just relax. They keep telling me I'm not at risk anymore."

He snorted quietly. "That's probably hard to believe after all the time you spent under federal protection."

Her eyes danced up to his face, and a smile curved her lips. "That's likely the entire problem. I've been conditioned."

"Well, let's hope so, shall we? Because time will cure that. Do you want to go straight home with me or stop at the diner first? I can feed you at home, if you'd prefer that."

"Home," she said without a moment's hesitation. "I'd prefer the quiet."

And the invisibility, he suspected.

The driver pulled two more bags out of the luggage bins beneath the bus. Lacy headed toward them and he followed. "I'll get them."

He caught her biting her lip and knew she was concerned about his leg. But an artificial leg, while it might not be as good as the original in some ways, was no weaker. Nor was the rest of him. Without difficulty, he lifted both cases.

"Car's up the street a bit. We need to get you out of this cold."

She laughed. "I'm not freezing, but the wind definitely has a bite."

"Beginnings of winter," he responded. Casual, easy.

Except it was beginning to dawn on him that this was going to be neither. He'd met Lacy because he'd married her best friend. Lacy had visited Sara a number of times during their marriage, sometimes when Jess was overseas, sometimes when he was home. He liked her, he was glad Sara had her, and now since Sara's death she'd become a friend to him, too.

Just a friend, he reminded himself as he swung the two suitcases into the back of his SUV. He'd offered to give her a bolt-hole, a place to unwind after the terror she'd lived with for so long now and still couldn't shake even though it was over.

That's all he was doing: what Sara would have wanted him to do. Looking after her best friend.

So why did he keep noticing the way the wind caught her hair and bared the smooth nape of a lovely neck?

Get a grip, Jess. Just get a grip.

Lacy hoped her face hadn't revealed shock when she first saw Jess. The intervening five years hadn't been kind. He definitely looked older than the young man she had last seen at the funeral. Then his face had been muddied with grief, but now it had gained lines and maturity. But then the years hadn't been good to him, first taking Sara from him, then costing him his leg in Afghanistan. She had called often, especially at first, and he'd always tried to sound upbeat. It had been hard for him to do after Sara's passing, but sometimes she wondered how he had managed it at all after he came home from the war with a shattered body.

The lines in his face were attractive, but they spoke of a lot of pain and loss. All the youthful softness had vanished, leaving him with a chiseled face, dark hair and unusual green eyes. He was still tall—that hadn't changed—but she saw the hitch in his step and she suddenly had the worst urge to get him out of that parka and make sure the rest of him was okay.

Had he been a stranger, she might have allowed his sexiness to preoccupy her, but this man had been her best friend's husband. It seemed so out of place to notice such things that she stepped down firmly on her feminine response to his masculinity as he helped her into the car.

As he pulled out of the parking space, she wondered if she might have made a mistake coming here. Oddly, after all the hours they had talked on the phone over the years, now she felt unexpectedly awkward. She had to search for something to say as they drove down narrow streets lined by leafless trees. She seized on the first thing that came to mind.

"It's kind of you to do this," she offered.

"It's what Sara would have wanted."

Well, that was a firm reminder. What Sara would have wanted. She'd at least cherished a small hope that he wasn't doing this entirely out of a sense of obligation. She'd have turned him down. She didn't want to be anyone's duty.

But he seemed to have heard his own words because he qualified them. "I didn't mean to sound like I'm doing this only because of Sara. I've been worried about you. You've been through hell, and you need a break."

The words that emerged from her then shocked them both into silence for the rest of the drive. "Do you ever get a break from hell?"

She wished she could snatch them back, but it was too late. They lay there, poisonous and possibly hurtful. He didn't make a sound in response.

Oh, this was going to go well, she thought. Her visit was openended—she had been asked to stay as long as she liked—but at this rate she might be on the road again in a...

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Verlag
Harlequin Romantic Suspense
Erscheinungsdatum
2015
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0373279450
ISBN 13 
9780373279456
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
288
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
HarperCollins Publishers, Product Safety Manager
enquiries@harpercollins.ie

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