Roman's Heart

by Sharon Sala

  “What’s your name?”

  Letter to Reader

  Title Page

  Books by Sharon Sala

  About the Author

  Dedication

  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

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Epilogue

  Teaser chapter

  Copyright

  “What’s your name?”

  Roman asked, and saw a different kind of fear move across her face.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

  She reached toward the knot beneath her scalp. “Somehow I hurt my head. When I came to, I couldn’t remember who I was or where I’d been going.”

  Roman almost sneered. “Amnesia is a lame excuse, lady. Try again.”

  She turned toward him. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but are you a cop?”

  “I’m no cop. I’m a private detective.”

  She sighed. “I wish I knew if I could afford you. I’d hire you to figure out who I am.”

  Dear Reader,

  It’s month two of our special fifteenth anniversary celebration, and that means more great reading for you. Just look what’s in store.

  Amnesia! It’s one of the most popular plot twists around, and well it should be. All of us have probably wished, just for a minute, that we could start over again, be somebody else...fall in love all over again as if it were the first time. For three of our heroines this month, whether they want it or not, the chance is theirs. Start with Sharon Sala’s Roman’s Heart, the latest in her fabulous trilogy, THE JUSTICE WAY Then check out The Mercenary and the Marriage Vow by Doreen Roberts. This book carries our new TRY TO REMEMBER flash—just so you won’t forget about it! And then, sporting our MEN IN BLUE flash (because the hero’s the kind of cop we could all fall in love with), there’s While She Was Sleeping by Diane Pershing.

  Of course, we have three other great books this month, too. Be sure to pick up Beverly Barton’s Emily and the Stranger, and don’t worry. Though this book isn’t one of them, Beverly’s extremely popular heroes, THE PROJECTORS, will be coming your way again soon. Kylie Brant is back with Friday’s Child, a FAMILIES ARE FOREVER title. Not only will the hero and heroine win your heart, wait ’til you meet little Chloe. Finally, welcome new author Sharon Mignerey, who makes her debut with Cassidy’s Courtship.

  And, of course, don’t forget to come back next month for more of the best and most excitingly romantic reading around, right here in Silhouette Intimate Moments.

  Leslie Wainger

  Senior Editor and Editorial Coordinator

  Please address questions and book requests to:

  Silhouette Reader Service

  U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

  Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

  Sharon Sala

  ROMAN’S HEART

  Books by Sharon Sala

  Silhouette Intimate Moments

  Annie and the Outlaw #597

  The Miracle Man #650

  When You Call My Name #687

  Shades of a Desperado #757

  *Ryder’s Wife #817

  *Roman’s Heart #859

  *The Justice Way

  Silhouette Books

  36 Hours

  For Her Eyes Only

  SHARON SALA

  is a child of the country. As a farmer’s daughter, her vivid imagination made solitude a thing to cherish. During her adult life, she learned to survive by taking things one day at a time. An inveterate dreamer, she yearned to share the stories her imagination created. For Sharon, her dreams have come true, and she claims one of her greatest joys is when her stories become tools for healing.

  This book is about survivors.

  No matter how difficult we try to make it, life is

  simple. It’s just a matter of identifying our weaknesses

  and surviving the trials and tribulations that come with

  them. Some of us persevere. Some of us fail.

  During my lifetime, I have met many people whom I

  admire. People who’ve endured and overcome great odds

  to become the person God meant them to be.

  I have been blessed in knowing a man like that.

  To a man who has faced true and deep despair—a man

  who knows better than most what it takes to survive.

  To Bobby.

  This book is for you.

  Chapter 1

  It was the sensation of needles poking into the skin on her face that brought the woman to, and when she opened her eyes, the scream that came out of her mouth made a nearby hawk take flight. Framed by the panorama of majestic mountains clothed in the new green of spring, the view was breathtaking. But it wasn’t the view that had caused her reaction. It was the binding sensation of the parachute strapped to her body, as well as the fact that she was caught in the highest branches of a towering pine and dangling far above the ground.

  In terror, she grabbed for the straps. The sudden movement sent her swaying in the breeze like a flapping shirt on a clothesline. And the weight of her body, coupled with the abruptness of the motion, made the fabric of the parachute rip even more, sending her slipping through the branches to the ground below. She looked down in horror, knowing that if she fell now, it would more than likely kill her.

  God help me.

  At that moment the fabric snagged and then held on another great branch, stopping her dangerous descent. With her heart thundering in her eardrums, she closed her eyes in a silent prayer of thanksgiving. In the blessed quiet that followed, a terrifying realization hit. Yes, she was stranded in a tree and dangling from a parachute, and as soon as she’d opened her eyes, a small part of her had accepted that fact without wondering why or how it had happened. But just now, when she’d been about to give thanks to the Almighty for still breathing, a great gap in her memory became fact.

  “No! Oh, no!”

  She reached for her face, testing the shape and texture of each feature, as if touching it for the first time. She wished for a mirror...or anything that would give back a reflection, because right now she didn’t remember who she was.

  Stifling a quick shaft of fear, she reminded herself that it wasn’t a name she needed right now. What she needed was a way to get down.

  She reached toward a nearby branch, and again the movement sent her into motion. Twisting and spinning like a yo-yo on a tangled string, she grabbed onto the straps, willing herself not to panic.

  When she could think without wanting to shriek, she began another approach. Maybe she should consider her injuries. The ones she already had were miserable but minor. Adding more could be the difference between being able to walk away from this and dying.

  Okay, where does it hurt the worst?

  And then she almost laughed. As best she could tell, the answer was everywhere. The question shouldn’t have been where does it hurt, but how much?

  One thing was for certain. Her lower lip was throbbing, and there was a coppery taste in her mouth that made her stomach roll. She reached toward the ache with the tip of her finger, wincing when it came in contact with what felt like a cut.

  She closed her eyes and groaned, then leaned to one side and spit, unwilling to swallow her own blood. And while her skin stung as if it had been flailed, the throbbing pain in her head was far worse. It was no surprise to disc
over a large knot just above the hairline. But when her hand came away bloody, as well, she jerked back in shock. Again, the motion sent her swaying precariously within the branches.

  “Easy, easy,” she muttered, deliberately taking deep breaths and exhaling slowly after each one. When the movement had ceased without her having fallen any farther, she relaxed.

  As she continued to dangle helplessly above the ground, a stiff breeze came up, blasting its way through the pines and blowing her hair into her eyes. When she ventured another look at the sun sinking into the western horizon, panic returned. It would be dark soon. Time was running out.

  And while she feared the act would be hopeless, she began to shout, knowing full well that there probably wasn’t a human being within miles who could hear.

  “Help!” she called, shouting over and over until the word was a scream and her throat was burning from the strain.

  An eerie echo bounced back with each shout, and she felt helpless against the fear she heard in her voice.

  A startled deer bolted from a nearby thicket. She groaned, envious of its mobility. Off to her left, a squirrel scolded, and something fell through the branches from above, hitting the side of her cheek as it passed.

  “Ouch!” she cried, cupping her face.

  Blinking through tears, she looked down, watching as a large pine cone ricocheted from branch to branch before hitting the ground. The sight sent a fresh wave of nausea rolling in the pit of her stomach. Quickly closing her eyes to reorient herself within the space in which she was hanging, she kept reminding herself that she hadn’t been what was falling. It was only a pine cone that had taken the plunge.

  Again, the squirrel’s strident chatter broke the silence of her thoughts, and when she opened her eyes, she found herself at eye level and within feet of the bushy-tailed rodent. The little animal’s aggressive behavior was unnerving.

  “Get!” she said shortly, and the squirrel’s pivot on the branch was as neat and swift as a square dancer’s step.

  With a flick of its tail, it scampered back the way it had come, and as she watched, truth dawned! The squirrel had just shown her the way down. All she needed to do was straddle a branch and then inch her way backward toward the trunk of the tree. After that, she could use the branches like steps on a ladder. In theory, it was simple. But there were the parachute straps to dispense with, and she reminded herself, she was not a squirrel. She had to find branches strong enough to hold her weight.

  A few minutes later, she had maneuvered herself into position. Straddling a branch, she ignored the rough bark and sticky pine needles as she locked her legs around its circumference. And while she felt comfortable with the fact that the branch would hold her weight, the true test of her faith came as she unbuckled the parachute and let go of the straps. As they slipped through her fingers to dangle down through the branches, she saw that even they were pointing the way down. She began her descent.

  The pale green pants and sweater she was wearing were no protection to her body. By the time she reached the last limb, her clothes looked as if she’d been carrying a panicked cat through a room full of barking dogs. There were snags, pulls and tears everywhere it mattered. And if that wasn’t enough of an insult, she had run out of limbs a good ten feet from the ground.

  Her hands were raw and the skin all over her body felt as if it were on fire. The throb in her head was making her sick, and she knew that the jolt of her landing would only make things worse. But there was no other way to get down. With one last look below, she let go of the limb with her legs, letting them dangle over the floor of the forest.

  And then she let go.

  The smell of rotting vegetation was suddenly strong in her nostrils as she hit feet first, and then pitched forward, falling onto her hands and knees and plowing through the mat of leaves on the forest floor. But she was down, and from what she could tell, still healthy enough to move.

  She started to pull herself up when a bit of color off to one side caught her eye. It was a navy blue duffel bag that she’d seen.

  Jump, girl! Take the bag and jump...and don’t look back!

  She spun, expecting to see...

  But the moment she thought it, the name and face disappeared, and to her dismay, she was still alone. Curious, she reached for the bag, and as she did, the skin on the back of her neck suddenly crawled. She fell backward, as if she’d just seen a snake.

  “Oh, God, what’s happening to me?” she groaned, and sat back up, cradling her head against her knees until the feeling had passed.

  But time was at a premium. There was a cool bite to the air that hadn’t been there before. This time when she looked at the bag, she ignored her feelings and grabbed it. She pulled at the zipper, then rocked back in shock.

  Money! It was full of money! Bundle upon bundle of one-hundred-dollar bills.

  How could you? I trusted you, and this is the way you repay me?

  Like before, the words came out of nowhere, and even though she knew there was no one there, she couldn’t help looking over her shoulder. Without giving herself time to think, she zipped the bag and then stood, pulling the straps over her shoulders and carefully balancing the weight against her pain-racked body.

  “Now to find shelter.”

  Ignoring her misery, she shifted the bag to a more comfortable position and began to walk, following the lay of the land down the side of the mountain. Somewhere below she would find help. She had to. Her endurance was just about gone.

  Just as the last rays of sun were sliding behind the tallest of trees, she spied the rooftop of what appeared to be a cabin.

  “Thank you, God.”

  Blinking furiously against tears of relief, she began walking faster, desperate for shelter before the impending darkness caught her out here alone.

  Her legs were trembling from exertion. And although the rooftop was no longer visible, she’d gotten a pretty good fix on the direction. If she kept walking, she kept telling herself, she was bound to find it again.

  The oncoming night was turning the deep green of the forest into a waning black. The ordinary became frightening; the unfamiliar brought terror. The night wind was still blowing, and a chill was seeping into her bones. Just as she feared another step would be impossible, she walked into a clearing and it was there. The cabin that she’d seen. But it, too, was quickly disappearing within the oncoming shadows. She began to move faster, frantically circling the building and searching for a door to gain entry.

  By normal standards, the cabin seemed ordinary. An A-line roof. Log walls. A door and two windows in the front. But to her, it was magnificent. Within seconds, she was running, the bag bouncing against her aching body with every step. And when her fingers closed around the doorknob, it never occurred to her to wonder why it was unlocked. Staggering out of the night and into another sort of darkness, she slammed the door behind her and then stood without moving, absorbing the quiet—and the blessed sensation of safety.

  There were shadows inside the room that appeared to be furniture, and just to her right, a light switch on the wall. Across the room was a narrow staircase leading to what appeared to be a loft. It was desolate and dark, and she wondered if she’d ever appreciated anything as much as she did this place.

  Overwhelmed with a great weariness, she allowed the bag to slide from her shoulder. She realized, even as she was dropping to her knees and then stretching out on the floor, that there was bound to be a more comfortable place somewhere inside the cabin to rest, but right now she was too exhausted to search. Trembling in every fiber of her being, and hurting in places she couldn’t even name, she cradled her head on her arm and closed her eyes.

  “Just for a minute. I’ll rest just for a minute.”

  It was her last conscious thought until morning.

  Royal Justice had been mad at his youngest brother, Roman, plenty of times in his life. In their younger days, there had even been a couple of times when their arguments came to blows. But that was then and
this was now, and Royal wasn’t about to trade punches with the man his little brother had become. All he could do was state his position and hope that Roman saw the sense in it all. Unfortunately, Royal had a tendency to lose his cool under pressure, and yelling, which was what he was doing now, was getting him nowhere.

  “Damn it, Roman! You are not indispensable. You aren’t the only private investigator in the city. The citizens of Dallas will not suffer if you take some time off. God knows you can afford it. You are not a robot, and contrary to what you may think, you are not immortal.” He took a deep breath and pointed a shaking finger in Roman’s face. “If you don’t take a vacation, you...little brother...are going to bum out! And I don’t have time to pick up the pieces of what’s left of you.”

  Roman folded his arms and leaned against the wall, listening to Royal’s demands with an inscrutable expression on his face.

  Royal continued without missing a beat. “So, here’s the deal. Yesterday I called and had the utilities turned on in the fishing cabin. I even had some basic supplies delivered, although I suggest you take plenty of anything else you might want. All you have to do is get in your car and drive till you get there.”

  Having said what had to be said, Royal Justice stood in the doorway, determined not to move from the only exit out of the men’s room at the Quesadilla Queen until Roman admitted he was right.