“I can’t lose you,” he muttered
“Damn it, I can’t. You are the sky to me, Alexa. No matter what, you are still my sky.”
She froze.
His words. She recognized them. So long ago—
With a sob, Alexa pulled back as much as she could, with his body still, unyieldingly, on hers. She tried, in the darkness of the boathouse, to see deep into eyes that were both familiar and unfamiliar.
“Oh, my Lord,” she whispered hoarsely, tears cascading down her cheeks. “You are Cole.”
Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,
Harlequin Intrigue has four new stories to blast you out of the winter doldrums. Look what we’ve got heating up for you this month.
Sylvie Kurtz brings you the first in her two-book miniseries FLESH AND BLOOD. Fifteen years ago, a burst of anger by the banks of the raging Red Thunder River changed the lives of two brothers forever. In Remembering Red Thunder, Sheriff Chance Conover struggles to regain the memory of his life, his wife and their unborn baby before a man out for revenge silences him permanently.
You can also look for the second book in the four-book continuity series MORIAH’S LANDING—Howling in the Darkness by B.J. Daniels. Jonah Ries has always sensed something was wrong in Moriah’s Landing, but when he accidentally crashes Kat Ridgemont’s online blind date, he realizes the tough yet fragile beauty has more to fear than even the town’s superstitions.
In Operation: Reunited by Linda O. Johnston, Alexa Kenner is on the verge of marriage when she meets John O’Rourke, a man who eerily resembles her dead lover, Cole Rappaport, who died in a terrible explosion. Could they be one and the same?
And finally this month, one by one government witnesses who put away a mob associate have been killed, with only Tara Ford remaining. U.S. Deputy Marshal Brad Harrison vows to protect Tara by placing her In His Safekeeping—by Shawna Delacorte.
We hope you enjoy these books, and remember to come back next month for more selections from MORIAH’S LANDING and FLESH AND BLOOD!
Sincerely,
Denise O’Sullivan
Associate Senior Editor
Harlequin Intrigue
OPERATION: REUNITED
LINDA O. JOHNSTON
To my agent Paige Wheeler, because of her excellence,
her guidance and her friendship. To my editor
Allison Lyons, because of her thoroughness and
thoughtfulness, and because it’s fun to work with her.
To Marcy Elias Rothman, because of her kindness,
her friendship and her helpful suggestions.
And to Fred, just because.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Linda O. Johnston’s first published fiction appeared in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine and won the Robert L. Fish Memorial Award for “Best First Mystery Short Story of the Year.” Now, several published short stories and novels later, Linda is recognized for her outstanding work in the romance genre.
A practicing attorney, Linda juggles her busy schedule between mornings of writing briefs, contracts and other legalese, and afternoons of creating memorable tales of paranormal, time travel, mystery, contemporary and romantic suspense. Armed with an undergraduate degree in journalism with an advertising emphasis from Pennsylvania State University, Linda began her versatile writing career running a small newspaper, then working in advertising and public relations, and later obtaining her J.D. degree from Duquesne University School of Law in Pittsburgh.
Linda belongs to Sisters in Crime and is actively involved with Romance Writers of America, participating in the Los Angeles, Orange County and Western Pennsylvania chapters. She lives near Universal Studios, Hollywood, with her husband, two sons and two cavalier King Charles spaniels.
Books by Linda O. Johnston
HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE
592—ALIAS MOMMY
624—MARRIAGE: CLASSIFIED
655—OPERATION: REUNITED
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Alexa Kenner—She became engaged to her business partner out of gratitude for his support after she lost the only man she ever loved. But has fear of her fiancé and his terrorist plot made her delusional…or is the handsome new guest at her inn really her dead lover?
Cole Rappaport—Saved after a bomb blast two years earlier, he was determined to remain out of Alexa’s life to protect her. But has she been involved in the terrorist plot all along? He can only find out by paying her a visit…incognito. Enter John O’Rourke, home improvements salesman extraordinaire.
Vane Walters—A protégé of Cole’s father, Vane had been like a brother to him. A very deadly brother…who is now engaged to the woman Cole loves.
Minos Flaherty—Vane’s subordinate and handyman has an agenda of his own.
Forbes Bowman—Cole’s gruff superior officer and friend, who saved his life.
Ed and Jill Fuller—Vane’s guests at the inn claim to be from Bolivia, but their accents suggest somewhere farther away, and a lot less friendly.
Jessie Bradford—An officer in Cole’s counterterrorist unit; his backup is necessary…and potentially lethal.
Allen Maygran—Jessie’s equally deadly partner.
Dear Reader,
Books take a long time to write, longer yet to edit and publish.
Operation: Reunited was in process before the terrible events of September 11, 2001. When I began it, the idea of terrorist infiltration of the United States was unthinkable, a figment of my own imagination.
Now I know my imaginings were not so wild.
Operation: Reunited is a story of good overcoming evil and love conquering all—platitudes, yes, but ones that provide hope. We all know romances have happy endings despite the muddle in the middle. And we all need happy endings now and then.
I hope you enjoy Operation: Reunited for what it is intended to be—a romance, a respite and, hopefully, an enjoyable read.
Please visit me at my Web site: www.LindaO.Johnston.net.
Regards,
Contents
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
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter One
As Alexa Kenner picked up the glass container of Chapultapec red cayenne pepper, she glanced down the aisle toward the front of the gourmet food store. A dark-haired man in a deep green shirt strode by. He had the limber, confident gait of someone with no doubt about the world’s need for what he would lend it. A familiar stride. A familiar man?
“Cole,” Alexa whispered as her heartbeat accelerated. The pepper dropped from her shaking fingers, hitting the tile floor with a crash. Instantly, a fine crimson dust erupted everywhere, coating the aisle. Alexa felt it float into her sandals and between her toes. Her nose tickled, but she refused to sneeze.
Tears welled in her eyes that had nothing to do with the spilled spice.
They had everything to do with sorrow. Loss.
Desperation.
“Are you all right, miss? I’ll have someone clean this up in a jiffy, don’t you worry.”
The words sounded distorted to Alexa, as if they had been murmured down a long tube. She didn’t even turn to see if the person talking was male or female, an employee or a customer. Instead, she hurried down the aisle toward where she had seen the man.
Of course he hadn’t been Cole. But she nevertheless felt dra
wn, as if entangled by a rope caught in a pulley. She had to take another look, just to show her jangled senses that there was no resemblance at all.
When she reached the end of the row of condiments and spices aligned on tall shelves, she glanced down the perpendicular aisle. A balding man in shorts wheeled his grocery cart toward the fruit counters. A young woman wrestled with her screaming child, trying to get him to resume his seat in the front of her cart.
No man in a green shirt.
It doesn’t matter, Alexa chided herself. She had gotten herself into this situation. No miracle was going to occur to get her out of it. Seeing shadows of Cole was of no use.
She brushed off her jeans and feet, commanded her legs to lose their wobbliness, then walked toward where a young man in a long white apron was already sweeping pepper into a dustpan with a whisk broom. Fortunately, the container hadn’t been large. She knelt beside him, picking up shards of glass carefully and placing them in the container he’d brought.
“I’m terribly sorry,” she told the boy, whom she knew only as Benjy. “I’ll be glad to pay for the damage.” She stood as he finished cleaning.
“No need, Ms. Kenner. The manager wouldn’t hear of it—especially not from a good customer like you.” Standing, he grinned shyly. A small amount of teenage acne reddened his chin. “I don’t even know what half these things are for.” He gestured toward the tiers of seasonings with names like Jump Up & Kiss Me Chipotle Hot Sauce and Purple Haze Psychedelic Hot Sauce.
“Neither do I,” admitted Alexa, “but I’m learning.” The forced but friendly smile she turned on the boy froze. There, just starting down the aisle, was the man she had seen before.
She stared. She didn’t mean to; she couldn’t help it.
But it was just as she had expected, just as she had known. His resemblance to Cole was superficial.
Of course it was. Cole Rappaport was dead.
This man was good-looking, maybe even more handsome than the man she had once loved so completely—and lost so catastrophically. Cole’s jaw had not been quite so broad, and he hadn’t had a cleft in his chin. His cheekbones had not been nearly so well defined, and his nose had been wider. His brows had been shaggier and more arched, not such a straight, hawkish line. And, of course, his dark hair hadn’t been nearly as long as this man’s, and there had been no hint of silver at Cole’s temples.
The man caught her stare. His eyes widened for a moment, as if he somehow recognized her. But she was certain that he was a stranger.
As he drew closer, his expression, unsurprisingly, showed no hint of recognition. His shirt was open at the throat, revealing the beginning of a thatch of hair as dark as that on his head but curlier. His sleeves were full, in the manner of an old-time swashbuckler—an analogy that suited his broad-shouldered, tall physique. His brown eyes, as dark as the German bock beer she used in her special beef stew, seemed quizzical. Cole’s eyes had been a similar shade….
One brow was raised, as though he was amused that a woman he didn’t know was staring so unabashedly. “Hello,” he said. His voice was deeper, more gravelly, than Cole’s had been. “Do I know you?”
“Only if you’re Cole,” she blurted, realizing how inane that must sound.
“Not especially,” he said. “I like air-conditioning in summertime. But I’m always willing to have a pretty lady warm me up.”
The amusement she thought she had seen on his face before was now a knowing, sexy smile. What was he talking about? And then she realized he thought she had suggested he might be cold. She flushed. He obviously thought she was flirting, when that was the farthest thing from her mind.
Still, she studied that smile carefully. Cole had had one that was similar. A smile so sexy, it had made her want to follow him to the nearest secluded place—a park, a hidden wall—and make torrid love with him.
A smile that had convinced her to do just that, over and over….
“Forget it,” she said. “I’m sorry, but you misunderstood. I didn’t mean to stare. You reminded me of someone.”
“Someone you like, I hope.”
“I did,” she admitted quietly. “But he’s dead.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It happened a while ago.” Two very long, very painful years ago. “Anyway, I apologize for staring.” Alexa turned away quickly and began to study the nearest shelves, hating the feeling of desolation that gripped her insides. Oh, Cole.
“Excuse me,” the man said.
Alexa couldn’t help looking at him one more time as he edged past Benjy, who was mopping the floor. His gaze wandered over the shelves as he apparently looked for something. He carried a plastic store basket in which a few items had been placed: toothpaste, oranges, a couple of bags of blue-corn tortilla chips. In a moment, he plucked a bottle of mild taco sauce from a shelf, and then continued down the aisle. She must have been mistaken about his gait. Not that it appeared unconfident, but it was slower, more deliberate—different from Cole’s world-challenging one. And Cole would have considered anyone using mild sauce on Mexican food wimpy.
The stranger turned back to her once more. “See you,” he said with a wave.
In your dreams, Alexa thought. She sighed. She didn’t dare let the man think she was coming on to him.
She didn’t even want to consider the consequences, if Vane thought she was flirting. She had other, more risky reasons to tempt his ire.
She forced herself to pull her list from her pocket and study it. She still needed milk and feta cheese. That was all she should be thinking about. She concentrated once more on her shopping.
A few minutes later, though, the man was at the checkout beside hers. She looked around. The lines at the other open ones were longer. In fact, there were a lot of people around, mostly strangers, though she often knew the patrons in the Juarez Gourmet Grocery. The new Skytop Lake Village shop had been open only a few months, but was already wildly successful with locals.
Alexa didn’t want to move to another line, but she felt embarrassed around this man. And upset. She had tried so hard to put Cole out of her mind….
Stay cool, she commanded herself, ignoring the way her breath caught in her throat. Abruptly, she drew her gaze away.
In the next line over, ready to check out, was Marian Shelton, one of her neighbors. “Hi, Alexa,” Marian said. “How’s the B&B business?” Fiftyish, Marian wore her black, curly hair in a frizzled mop about her head.
“Not bad,” Alexa lied.
“You own a bed-and-breakfast?” It was the stranger talking. She recognized that rumbling deep voice from moments ago.
She turned slowly, sucking in her breath for fortitude. She pasted a bright smile on her face. “Yes,” she said.
“The Hideaway By The Lake,” Marian said. “It’s the most charming inn around, with the absolute best lake view. And it’s all the better because of Alexa’s restaurant. She serves gourmet food there, you know.”
A few months ago, if a friend had talked up her establishment and her cooking, Alexa would have been thrilled. But now…things were different.
“That sounds great,” the man said. He held out his hand. “My name is John O’Rourke. I’m here on a vacation, and to scout out a possible place for a new store. I’m in home improvements—sales, mainly.”
“How do you do, Mr. O’Rourke,” Alexa said formally. “I’m Alexa Kenner.” She didn’t want to be rude so she took his hand. It was warm, and his grip was firm. Reassuring, somehow.
But his look was anything but reassuring. There was a blatant sensuality in the way his eyes captivated hers, almost familiarly.
She pulled her hand, and her gaze, away quickly. “I’m happy to say my inn is pretty full right now.” She didn’t want him to ask about a room. She wouldn’t want to have to tell him no—not in front of Marian, who knew she still had vacancies. Marian, two doors down on the same side of the street, was the kind of neighbor who counted cars in the driveway. She would believe there was
room for several more—and therefore several more guests.
But Marian didn’t know what was happening at the inn. No one knew, except for Vane.
Alexa couldn’t rent a room to anyone. It wasn’t just because of the way this man had started, by his very presence, to unnerve her.
“Oh.” O’Rourke’s tone was noncommittal. Maybe he hadn’t been about to ask for a room. She felt relieved…didn’t she?
Marian finished making her purchases and left, thank heaven, before she could try harder to promote her neighbor. Picking up a magazine from beside the checkout, Alexa pretended to study it.
Soon, it was her turn. When she had paid for all her groceries, she wheeled her cart toward the automatic glass door.
“Wait!”
Moving out of the way of someone entering the store, Alexa turned at the voice, which was now becoming familiar. Too familiar. “Yes, Mr. O’Rourke?”
He took two strides before he stood beside her. He gripped a white plastic grocery bag in one large hand. He was tall, as tall as Cole had been.
“I’m John,” he corrected, startling her.
Of course he couldn’t read her mind. He was just being friendly, asking her to call him by his first name.
“Alexa, rent me a room. Please. I’ll need it for a week or two.”
“But—”
“I don’t want to beg, but I will. I came to Skytop Lake for the lake. I told the travel agent that before I left L.A., but she stuck me in a perfectly awful place in the woods that’s a mile away from the water.”
Alexa tried again. “The thing is, John—”
“Plus,” he interrupted with a devilish grin that somehow reminded her she was a living, breathing woman, “I’m scouting for an inn where a professional organization of salesmen I belong to can hold a meeting in a few months. If I like your place, and I’m sure I will, I can bring you some more business.”
Darn it all! Marian was standing outside the door as it opened and closed, chatting with another woman but keeping an eye on John and her. Could she hear them? Alexa could hardly say to this handsome, disconcerting man, right in front of her neighbor, that she didn’t want any more business.
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