[Harlequin] - Sylvie Kurtz - Texas Night (txt), Ksiazki, txt
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Texas Nightbysylvie kurtzUK 2 pounds 70 penceIR2 3,30 ISBN 0-373-22527-X U!Danger, deception and suspense. Silhouette Intrigue(SILHOUETTE BOOKSBefore he could stop himself, he kissed her fiercely, protectively.She sent a jolt zinging through him like an arrow on fire. He heardher murmur his name against his lips and he deepened the kiss. Hewanted more of her . all of her. What am I doing? I don't want this.I don't need this. Not now.He released her, backing up one step until his hands cupped only herelbows. Her dark eyes were wide with confusion, with longing. Itwould be easy to take advantage now, to seduce her. Blurring the linesof his boundaries with the investigation was one thing; sleeping withthe primary witness was quite another. Dear Reader, Welcome toIntrigue!A new trilogy by popular author Amanda Stevens begins this month,GALLAGHER JUSTICE. In The Littlest Witness we meet the first of thethree Gallagher brothers, all raised to uphold the values of honour andintegrity.In this month's LAWMAN LOVER, For His Daughter, Officer Lee Garvey hassome protecting to do--his daughter and the woman he loves are indanger. The pressure is most definitely on. Strange things arehappening in Dream Maker Jared Slater's dreams are coming true. Butwhen his lovely research assistant is murdered in one of his dreams,Jared knows it's time to get to the bottom of his nightly adventures.And in the first of our AMNESIA mini-series, One Texas Night,Lieutenant Grady Sloan's key murder witness has amnesia . and the mostbeautiful eyes he's ever seen! Come back next month for another fourthrilling romantic suspense novels.All the best, The Editors One Texas NightSYLVIE KURTZ"SILIIOU[TT[ INTRIGUE TMDID YOU PURCHASE THIS BOOK WITHOUT A COVER?If you did, you should be aware it is stolen property as it wasreported unsold and destroyed by a retailer. Neither the author northe publisher has received any payment for this book.All the characters in this book have no existence outside theimagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyonebearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspiredby any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidentsare pure invention.All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or inpart in any form. This edition is published by arrangement withHarlequin Enterprises H B.V.The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproducedor transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrievalsystem, or otherwise, without the written permission of thepublisher.This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way oftrade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulatedwithout the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding orcover other than that in which it is published and without a similarcondition including this condition being imposed on the subsequentpurchaser.Silhouette and Colophon are registered trademarks of Harlequin BooksS.A." used under licence.First published in Great Britain 2000 Silhouette Books, Eton House,18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, SurreyTW9 1SRSylvie Kurtz 1999ISBN 0 373 22527 XPrinted and bound in Spain by Litografta Rosds S.A." BarcelonaABOUT THE AUTHORFlying an eight-hour solo cross-country in a Piper Arrow with only theairplane's crackling radio and a large bag of chocolates for company,Sylvie Kurtz realised a pilot's life wasn't for her. The storieszooming in and out of her mind proved more entertaining than the flightitself. Not a quitter, she finished her pilot's course and earned hercommercial licence and instrument rating.Since then, she has traded in her wings for a keyboard where she letsher imagination soar to create fictional adventures that explore thepower of love and the thrill of suspense. When not writing, she enjoysthe outdoors with her husband and two children, quilt- making,photography and reading whatever catches her interest.You can reach Sylvie at P.O.Box 702, Milford, NH 03055, USA.For Chuck--My anchor in the storm of life.A Special Thanks--To Joanne Moriarity of Lee Valley for all her help inputting together Melinda's catalogue.Chapter OneMurder didn't happen in this slice of Texas. In the twelve years sinceGrady Sloan had been an officer with the Far- gate Police Department,there hadn't been a single homicide. Now, less than twenty-four hoursinto his tenure as interim police chief, Angela Petersen lay dead inthe Tarrant County morgue, awaiting an autopsy.As he'd inspected the small brick home on the edge of town, no boldclues had jumped up at him, saying, "I did it!" There was onlyblood--a lot of it--splattered over the lace curtains, ruffled pillowsand other feminine frills strewn about the living room. No muddyfootprints had marred the pink carpeting. No bloody knife had lainclose by with accusing fingerprints on its handle. No signs of forcedentry had marked any of the doors or windows.There was nothing, except the strange woman. And the indecipherabledrawing she'd held.He'd have to use every ounce of his resourcefulness to crack thecase.A lot of fun that would be, with the critical town council breathingdown his neck and watching his every move. After his fiasco withJamie--his otherwise spotless record notwithstanding--they'd expectmistakes, and be more than ready to point fingers.In three weeks, Fargate would hold its annual Fall Festival The councilhad planned Seth Mullins's retirement celebration and the announcementof his replacement as the crowning event. That didn't leave Grady muchtime to prove the town council wrong. Or to get answers from the womanwho claimed not to remember her name.His office door blustered open."What took you so long?" Grady snapped at his sister. Tension had himstrung tighter than sun-dried leather."Well, hello to you, too." Desiree Sloan dumped her briefcase andlarge leather purse on top of his desk, ignoring the pile of papers shescrambled in the process. Flyaway wisps of light brown hair escapedfrom the French braid that couldn't be more than half an hour old.While she removed the jacket of her bright red business suit, shejuggled a cup of coffee between her hands, sloshing drops onto thecarpet. Good thing it was the color of industrial grime. His sisterwas a brilliant psychologist, but grace had never been one of herattributes. She plowed through life like a scatterbrained bull in achina shop, but when it came to business, she focused single-mindedlyas if in a ring facing a matador's cape. No one garnered moreprofessional respect than Dr. Des. Which is why he'd sought heropinion this morning."I got here as fast as I could." She plopped into a chair, popped theloose cover from her cup of coffee and blew on the hot liquid."You know I'm not a morning person." She leaned back in the chair andcrossed one leg over the other."So, what windmill's got your shorts in a torque this morning, brotherdear? Vigilante cow-tipper? Mad doughnut snatcher at Mamie's?" Sheslapped one hand on the chair's armrest. Her blue-gray eyes twinkledwith amusement."No, don't tell me! Some low-down snake took off with the highschool's royal blue street sign again.""That's enough, Desiree. I'm not in the mood for your sass today.""So it's Desiree, huh? I guess I'm really in trouble now." He lovedhis sister to death, but she could push his but tons faster than anyonehe knew. Her irreverent humor and lightheartedness had helped himthrough a lot of rough spots, but this wasn't going to be one ofthem."I didn't mean to snap." He threw his pen onto the blotter, thentipped back his chair until it leaned against the wall."I've been Up all night." He dragged his hands over his face andrubbed his burning eyes."Someone murdered Angela Petersen.""Oh, no!" Desiree jammed her cup onto the desk, staining his reportwith muddy-brown coffee."Angie's mother must be beside herself. And the reverend. She was theapple of his eye. I'll have to stop by and see them on my way to work.What happened?"Grady plucked tissues from a box on the black metal credenza and moppedDesiree's mess."Lena Strong called in late last night, saying she thouglat she heardsomeone screaming at the Petersens'. I thought it might just be thestorm. The winds were pretty strong last night.""I know. I think I lost some shingles."He lobbed the sodden tissue into the wastebasket beside the desk."Anyway, there was no answer when I got there, but the front door wasajar. I found her stabbed to death on the living-room floor.""God, Grady, how awful! Do you know who did it?""Not yet.""Angie had a voice like an angel's." Desiree shook her head slowly."She was supposed to sing Seth's retirement song at the Fall Festival.It's going to be a grim affair now. What is it you need me to do?"Now that Desiree was here, Grady found himself hesitating. If sheconfirmed the woman truly suffered from amnesia, it would complicatehis case no end. He didn't have time for gentle prod dings He neededto solve a murder."We found a woman at the scene. When we tried to question her, sheattacked us." Absently, he rubbed the bandage covering the bite markon his left hand."Now she claims she can't remember her name." He slipped the dra...
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