by Sharon Sala
As the top-secret SPEAR agency
uncovers the identity of the
evil traitor in its ranks,
A YEAR OF LOVING DANGEROUSLY
concludes….
“Jonah”
The mysterious man behind the SPEAR agency
is about to come out of hiding and do combat
with his greatest nemesis….
But first, the world-weary agent had a debt of the
heart to pay. And so he traveled to see the one
woman he had always loved—the woman he had
left behind—but had never forgotten….
Cara Justice
Age had only made this blue-eyed beauty
even more lovely….
She had never thought she would see him again,
yet suddenly, there before her, stood the man
she had fallen in love with when she was just
sixteen. The father of her child and the soldier
who had stolen her heart. Dare she hope their
happily-ever-after had finally arrived?
“Simon”
He would have his revenge, even at the cost
of revealing himself to his foe….
Simon was preparing for his greatest battle yet—
facing down the one man he could never forgive.
The elusive “Jonah,” a man he knew better than
anyone—even himself. A man he was determined
to destroy—even if he died in the process….
Dear Reader,
The excitement continues in Intimate Moments. First of all, this month brings the emotional and exciting conclusion of A YEAR OF LOVING DANGEROUSLY. In Familiar Stranger, Sharon Sala presents the final confrontation with the archvillain known as Simon—and you’ll finally find out who he really is. You’ll also be there as Jonah revisits the woman he’s never forgotten and decides it’s finally time to make some important changes in his life.
Also this month, welcome back Candace Camp to the Intimate Moments lineup. Formerly known as Kristin James, this multitalented author offers a Hard-Headed Texan who lives in A LITTLE TOWN IN TEXAS, which will enthrall readers everywhere. Paula Detmer Riggs returns with Daddy with a Badge, another installment in her popular MATERNITY ROW miniseries—and next month she’s back with Born a Hero, the lead book in our new Intimate Moments continuity, FIRSTBORN SONS. Complete the month with Moonglow, Texas, by Mary McBride, Linda Castillo’s Cops and…Lovers? and new author Susan Vaughan’s debut book, Dangerous Attraction.
By the way, don’t forget to check out our Silhouette Makes You a Star contest on the back of every book.
We hope to see you next month, too, when not only will FIRSTBORN SONS be making its bow, but we’ll also be bringing you a brand-new TALL, DARK AND DANGEROUS title from award-winning Suzanne Brockmann. For now…enjoy!
Leslie J. Wainger
Executive Senior Editor
Sharon Sala
Familiar Stranger
Dear Reader,
I hope you’ve been enjoying A YEAR OF LOVING DANGEROUSLY. The past eleven books have been action-packed, emotionally charged stories of larger-than-life heroes and heroines who were willing to risk everything, including their lives, to keep their country safe, as well as protecting the identity of the inimitable Jonah. From the first book to the eleventh, we have come to understand the depths of respect in which Jonah is held, but the stories were always about the people who worked for him. With only an occasional glimpse into this secretive man’s life, we could only imagine what drove him.
But now, in this twelfth book, Familiar Stranger, Jonah’s story is finally told. I think you will agree with me that this hero is everything you expected him to be and more. His journey has been a lonely one, but with a showdown between him and the deadly Simon inevitable, he does something completely out of character and against all the vows he took when he slipped into the shoes of Jonah. He goes in search of the woman he lost and the family he’s never known.
As you read, the heart of the man will be revealed, as will Simon’s identity. And even then, you won’t know—until the very last pages—how A YEAR OF LOVING DANGEROUSLY will end.
I love to hear from my readers and can be reached at P.O. Box 127, Henryetta, OK, 74437, or online c/o www.eHarlequin.com.
Contents
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
Epilogue
Author Note
Chapter 1
Rain thumped against the small, thatched roof like soggy bullets. The familiar sound of an incoming Huey rocked the air as it passed overhead, but Private David Wilson was deaf to everything but the panic.
Blood…so much blood. Don’t look at Frank. Don’t think about what he’s done…what he made you do. Destroy the evidence before it’s too late.
The scent of gasoline was everywhere now. On the walls, on the bodies, saturating the money that his brother, Frank, had been willing to die for.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Money for guns. Brother for brother. Honor for sale. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Match. Need a match. Don’t look at Frank. Just think about what has to be done.
Jonah rolled from his belly to his back and kicked in his sleep, unconsciously sending his covers to the foot of the bed. Even though the second-story window beside his bed was open, there was little breeze stirring. It was unseasonably warm for the Colorado mountains this time of year, but the sweat on his body wasn’t from the heat of the night. It was from the hell in his dream. And even in that dream, he still couldn’t control his own warning.
He looked. And saw the dead gunrunners…and the money, now saturated with rain and mud and gasoline…and the blood pooling beneath his brother’s body.
A muscle twitched near Jonah’s mouth, a reflex to the scream echoing inside his mind as the match was struck. A word slipped from between his lips, too faint to be heard, although it hardly mattered. He’d been alone for so many years he wouldn’t have known how to share his thoughts if he’d had the chance.
In the space of one breath, the dream jumped from 1974 and Vietnam to two weeks ago in New York City, bringing with it the same sense of desperation and leaving Jonah writhing in torment.
From the air, New York City appeared as a vast but inanimate object, with only a small cluster of land and trees they called Central Park embedded within the mass of concrete and steel.
He banked the chopper toward the unwinding ribbon that was the East River, and as he did, his heart began to pound. Only a few more minutes and this hell would come to an end.
Below him was a dark blanket of land peppered with thousands and thousands of lights. Almost there. With the desperation in Del Rogers’s voice still ringing in his head, all he could think was, no more. Too many innocents have been caught in this crazy man’s revenge to bring me down. Please, God, just let Maggie and her baby still be alive. Let us get them out of all this still breathing and kicking.
Unconsciously, Jonah’s hands curled into fists, as he relived the descent of the black stealth helicopter he was piloting, all the while knowing that Simon was holding a woman and child between himself and destiny.
A faint breeze came through the open windows, blowing across his nude body, but Jonah was too deeply asleep to appreciate the sensation. The muscles in his legs twitched as he relived landing the chopper.
In the landing lights, the fear on Maggie�
�s face was vivid, overwhelming Jonah with a renewed sense of guilt.
The cowardly son of a bitch, using innocent people just to get to me.
The force of wind from the descending helicopter whipped Maggie’s hair and clothes and sent a shower of grit and dust into the air around them. He saw her trying to use her body as a shield for the hysterical baby in her arms, but the man holding her hostage gave her a yank, making sure she still stood between him and the guns aimed in his direction.
As the helicopter landed, Jonah could only imagine what was going through Maggie’s mind—all this hell—all the danger to her family—and for a man she didn’t even know. He slid open a door in the side of the chopper and flashed a bright light in Simon’s face.
In that moment, Jonah’s mind shut down. Before his senses could wrap around the truth of what he was seeing, Simon’s body jerked. He had been shot by Del Rogers.
After that, everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.
SPEAR agents firing from surrounding rooftops.
Simon taking another bullet.
The play of emotions moving across Simon’s face—a face that was aged with hate as well as passing years, bearing scars both old and new.
The impact of the bullet as the shot tore through Simon’s body.
The desperate lunge Simon made toward the East River in a last-ditch effort to escape.
The way the water parted to let him in.
The knot of dismay in Jonah’s belly when he realized that Simon was gone.
Jonah woke with a grunt and sat straight up in bed. It had been two weeks, and he still hadn’t gotten over the shock of seeing Simon’s face. The guilt of all these years—of thinking he had killed his brother—had been for nothing.
“Ah, God…Frank. I thought you were dead.”
He shook his head and then massaged the tension in the back of his neck. As he did, the powerful muscles in his shoulders bunched and rolled. The misery of these nightmare-filled nights was getting to him. He needed to work it off, but not in the weight room, as he normally did. He wanted the air against his skin and the ground beneath his feet. He needed to run until he set his muscles on fire.
It was 5:10 A.M. as he rolled out of bed and strode to the bathroom. Even the shock of cold water on his face was not enough to wash away the horror of what he’d been dreaming. With a curse on his lips, he strode into his bedroom, moving through the darkness with the confidence of an animal that well knew its lair.
Every motion was deliberate as he dressed—grabbing a pair of shorts and a clean T-shirt from the top drawer of the dresser, then lacing his running shoes and fastening the holster of a small-caliber handgun at the waistband of his shorts. Five minutes later he paused at the kitchen table, fingering the single page of a letter he’d received less than twenty-four hours ago. Although the room was too dark to read the words again, he didn’t need to read them to remember.
I know who you are. Your time has come. I’ll be in touch. Frank.
Jonah shuddered. Ghosts. He’d never believed in them until now. He dropped the letter and moved onto the deck. Daybreak was less than an hour away, but he didn’t need light by which to see. He stretched a couple of times to ease tense muscles, then he stepped off the deck and began to walk toward the trees. Within moments, he’d moved to a jog, and by the time he disappeared into the tree line, he was running, only now there were no demons to outrun. He had a face and a name to go with it and only a short time left before the inevitable confrontation. Only God knew how it would end, and in a way, it almost didn’t matter.
Almost.
He wanted this over. All of it. Being Jonah. Hiding secrets. Telling lies. Just over. He wasn’t the first man to give up his identity for the good of his country and he wouldn’t be the last. But he’d given up more than an identity, and that was what dug at him in the wee hours of the mornings when sleep eluded him.
He’d given up Cara.
Unconsciously, he increased his speed as the memory of her face crept into his mind. So pretty. So young. And they’d been so much in love. Looking back, he would say crazy in love.
He ducked on the path to avoid a low-hanging branch and swiped his arm across his forehead, catching the sweat before it ran in his eyes. His calves were starting to burn. The pain felt good—a reminder that he was more than just a machine for Uncle Sam.
Cara.
My God, what had he been thinking? They were only sixteen years old and he’d begged her to run away with him. What had he thought they’d do? Better yet, where in hell would they have gone? The fact that she’d pleaded with him to wait until they were out of college said something for the theory that girls matured faster than boys. In their case, she certainly had. She’d known what he’d refused to consider, and because they’d fought and then been too stubborn to admit they were wrong, their lives had turned upside down.
A large bird flew across his line of vision, and he could tell by the absence of sound at its passing that it was an owl, probably on its way home from a night of hunting.
If only he’d had the sense to go home after their fight, but no, he’d had to show the world—and maybe himself—that he was a man. And what better way to do that than to go fight a war?
His older brother, Frank, had signed up months earlier and was already somewhere in the jungles of Vietnam. The family had gotten one letter from him in all that time, and their mother had cried herself to sleep when it came. But that hadn’t occurred to David then. All he’d wanted to do was prove that he was man enough for Cara to love.
When he told her he’d enlisted, he hadn’t expected her to like it, but he’d expected her to wait for him to come back. Instead, she’d cried hysterically, claiming that he’d chosen the army over her. Unable to undo all the choices he’d made, he got on the bus and never came back, although at first, that hadn’t been his plan.
He’d written to her religiously, but to his dismay she never replied. Over a year and a half later and a world away in Saigon, it had all come undone. Receiving a package containing all of his letters unopened was rough, but it was the two accompanying newspaper clippings that nearly killed him. One was the announcement of her wedding, the second the birth of her first child.
He knew Cara, and he’d done the math. The baby was his. He had a daughter back home in the state of New York, and someone else was going to raise her.
After that, short of turning the gun on himself, he’d tried to die. So many times. In so many ways. It should have been simple. Everyone else around him was dying in combat, but it was as if he’d become immortal. Nothing could hurt him.
Then he’d discovered Frank’s treason, and bloodshed had followed. After that, he’d quit on everything, including himself. Just before the war was over, he was recruited by SPEAR. By then, giving up David Wilson was simple. His parents were dead. Cara had given her life and their child to another man. A man who slept with her and laughed with her and raised the baby David had put in her belly.
And David had left her alone—until now. With no way to know what the future would hold, he needed to make peace with his past. Cara was a widow these past three years. Their child was grown. Hell, he was a grandfather and had never set eyes on his own daughter. It, by God, wasn’t fair.
Daybreak was hovering on the horizon by the time he reached the edge of the cliff. His heart was still pounding from the run, his clothes dripping with sweat as he lowered himself down into a sitting position on the lip of a rock, as he had so many, many times before.
The air was beginning to stir, promising a stiff breeze before the day was out. He sat with back straight and legs folded, his hands resting lightly on his knees, staring at the crack of light appearing over the mountain. The sky was changing now, wrapping itself in pale, dusty blues intermingled with threads of hot pink and gold.
As he watched, the anger in him slowly stilled. He’d seen just such a sunrise many times since he’d come to this place, but it never failed to instill in him a
feeling of awe—a gentle and vibrant reminder of Who was really in charge. The vista blurred and he told himself it was nothing but sweat in his eyes.
Moments later, the sun made itself known—the first rays catching and then holding in the silver wings of hair at his temples. With a deep, heartfelt sigh, he stood. It was time to go home. But not just to the cabin. Thanks to the chaos Frank Wilson had created, his days as Jonah had to be over. His guess was, the President was probably already in the process of choosing his successor, but would wait until his formal request for retirement. And before that came, he had the final showdown with Frank. The way he saw it, he owed it to himself to make peace with his past, and to do that, he had to become David Wilson one last time and see Cara—the girl he had left behind.
Finger Lakes Region, New York State
Cara Justice swatted at a bee that kept pilfering about her flowers as she knelt at the side of the flower bed.
“Get back, you little beggar. Just let me get these weeds out of the bed and then you can have at the blossoms.”
The bee, of course, didn’t answer, and Cara, of course, expected none. But it felt good to be talking aloud, even if there was no one to hear. She tossed aside the last handful of weeds and then stood, brushing off the knees of her slacks and straightening the collar of her shirt. The day was warm, but not unbearably so. She stood for a moment, surveying the landscape of her backyard, and smiled. She loved this time of year. Everything was new and green, flowers in varying stages of buds and blooms, birds nesting.
Renewal.
That’s what it was. Everything was new all over again. Except me, she thought, and then thought of her youth and sighed. Those had been sad times and nothing she would ever want to relive. She’d suffered, endured and prevailed. After that, she’d made herself always look forward, never dwelling on the past. Truth be told, she didn’t want to be young again. It had hurt too much the first time around. Turning fifty had been a plateau she’d welcomed. Her oldest daughter, Bethany, who lived just down the road, was grown and married, as were her two youngest children, Tyler and Valerie, although they lived out of state.
