Harlequin Superromance March 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: The Secrets of Her PastA Real Live HeroIn Her Corner

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Harlequin Superromance March 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: The Secrets of Her PastA Real Live HeroIn Her Corner Page 82

by EMILIE ROSE

She burst out laughing.

  Kyle pouted. “That wasn’t exactly the response I was hoping for.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She put a hand over her mouth and gestured helplessly. “I’m just...”

  When she didn’t finish, he nervously supplied, “Exuberant? Ecstatic?” His face fell when she shook her head. “Confused? Sad? Mad? Hungry? Help me out here.”

  “Happy.” She kicked her bag aside and threw her arms around Kyle’s shoulders. He squeezed her tightly as their lips met in a deep, long kiss. Then she drew away and cupped his cheeks. “But I have to go home.”

  She watched the light drain out of his eyes as his silly grin faltered. Oh, she couldn’t torture him any longer. “I have to go home because I can’t live without my bike.”

  Kyle blinked, then laughed. “Forget the bike. I’ll buy you a car.”

  “Hell, no. You’re going to buy yourself a bike. We’re going to bike everywhere from now on.”

  “Fine.” He glanced out the door, where nosy spectators had gathered to watch. He didn’t care. “I’ll do it for you, as long as you promise to stick to the traffic rules.”

  “Wimp.”

  He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. “But that’s why you love me, right?”

  She grinned. “I love you for a lot of reasons. Let me show you how much.” And she kissed him once more. And again. And again.

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from ALL A MAN IS by Janice Kay Johnson.

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  PROLOGUE

  HALF A DOZEN MEN and three women sat around the conference room table. Some had laptops open, others notebooks.

  Lieutenant Alec Raynor found his attention kept wandering to the five red pins stabbing a map on a display board propped on an easel. Each pin represented a particularly brutal rape and murder, all similar enough for detectives to have linked them to a single perpetrator. One of those pins was within his jurisdiction, his responsibility, the Los Angeles Police Department. Two belonged to the county sheriff’s department, one to Beverly Hills P.D. and the most recent to Santa Monica P.D.

  This killer liked his victims to be upscale.

  The task force had been formed after the third murder. Unfortunately for the detectives working the crime, the killer was smart and clearly well educated in the collection of trace evidence. Result: they had next to nothing to go on.

  Alec’s phone vibrated and he barely glanced at it, intending to let it go to voice mail. The name displayed, though, had him rising to his feet.

  “Excuse me for a minute. I need to take this.”

  He answered as he left the room. “Julia?”

  Unless it was prearranged, his sister-in-law never called him during normal working hours. Certainly not in the middle of the afternoon like this.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, Alec.” The stress in her usually melodic voice ratcheted up the worry that had gripped him the minute he saw her name on the call display. “I should have waited. If you’re tied up—”

  “I can take a minute. Something’s wrong.”

  She laughed, a sharp sound. “As usual, it’s Matt.”

  Both her kids had been named to honor Alec and his brother’s mother and her Italian family. Matteo had recently turned thirteen. Alec kept hearing that girls were hell on wheels at thirteen, but boys had to mature for a couple more years before they were ready to rebel. Not Matt.

  Thank God Matt’s sister, Emiliana—Liana for short—was, at not quite eleven, still a little girl.

  Alec’s niece and nephew had both been slammed by their father’s death a year and a half ago. Liana’s grief and bewilderment seemed normal, while Matt’s original shock had come to more closely resemble a bomb packed with gunpowder. It was dangerous to handle and had so many explosives tamped down inside, Alec expected the worst when it blew. Some days, he had trouble recognizing the boy he loved in the sneering, foulmouthed shit he’d become.

  What bothered him most was that he had no idea what was going on in the kid’s head.

  Julia didn’t call after every one of his escapades, and certainly not in the middle of the day.

  “What happened?” Alec asked.

  “He was caught stealing a bottle of whiskey from the Grove Street store. From Mr. Santana.”

  Mr. Santana had to be seventy-five if he was a day. He’d had cataract surgery recently on one eye but the other remained clouded. He’d continued running the store after his son was killed in an armed robbery and he was left to care for his daughter-in-law and her three children. The oldest boy, Javier, was an earnest seventeen-year-old who helped his grandfather every minute he wasn’t in school. Sweet Mr. Santana was known throughout the neighborhood for his kindness to children.

  Matt had very likely gone there to shoplift because he knew Mr. Santana’s vision was poor.

  “It gets worse,” Julia warned, and now Alec could hear fear along with anger in her voice. “He was already drunk.”

  Son of a bitch. His thirteen-year-old nephew had gotten wasted? “Where is he?”

  “Oh, his room.” She sounded hopeless. “But you know how much good putting him on restriction does.”

  Alec knew.

  “I’ve done some thinking today, Alec. I’d...like to talk to you if you can come over whenever you get off. Or—it can wait until tomorrow if you’re tied up.”

  “No,” he said roughly. “I’ll be there after dinner sometime.”

  “Thank you.” All the grief he’d begun to believe she was letting go of was there again, so heavy he could feel the weight. “Tonight,” she said, and was gone.

  * * ** * *

  ALEC STOOD IN Julia’s kitchen, leaning one hip against the edge of the tiled counter, and tried to conceal his shock at Julia’s announcement.

  He couldn’t help watching her as she busied herself pouring them both cups of coffee. Julia—his brother’s widow—was a beautiful woman. Elegant, but not flashy. He remembered being surprised the first time he met her, because Josh usually went for buxom blondes, and the girl he was suddenly serious about was neither. Petite, no more than five foot three or four, she had the fine-boned build of a dancer. Alec learned later that she actually had taken dance classes for years, without being serious enough to consider it as a career. Her straight brown hair was a rich color with a warm cast, more like maple than mahogany, he had decided. And then there were eyes of a witchy green-gold she had passed on to her daughter but not her son.

  When he’d first arrived this evening, he’d spent a few minutes with Liana. Skinny and small for her age, she had darker hair than her mom. He heard about her fascination with the algebra her fifth-grade advanced math group was currently studying.

  “There’s this boy who likes me,” she had added shyly, pink tingeing her thin cheeks. “I mean, I guess he does. His name’s Tyler. He told Jose, who told Brooke.” Brooke, Alec knew, was Liana’s best friend. “He wants me to be, like, his girlfriend or something.”

  Girlfriend! He’d had damn near as much trouble grappling with the concept of this little girl having some guy after her as he did with the idea of Matt boozing. They were turning into teenagers before his eyes.


  They had been at just about the worst possible age to lose their father.

  Alec hadn’t trusted himself to talk to Matt yet. Instead, he’d left Liana instant messaging with friends and retreated to the kitchen.

  “What happened to playing with Barbie dolls?” he asked plaintively.

  Amusement lightened Julia’s distress, if only for a moment. “What’s she doing?” When he told her, she laughed. “Oh, she still has her Barbies and plays with them, too, but mostly by herself. She’s not sure which friends will think it’s totally uncool and childish.”

  “She’s ten.”

  “Almost eleven. Sixth grade is in the middle school, you know. There’ll be dances.”

  “Older boys,” he said with the voice of doom.

  He expected her to laugh again, but she didn’t. “Alec, I think I need to take the kids away from L.A. You’re so important to them.” She bit her lip. “To me, too. That’s why I’ve been so reluctant to do this. But you know my parents would like to have me close, and I have to believe Matt would do better in a small town.”

  The small town where she’d grown up was on a lake somewhere north of Minneapolis. Half the country away. More than half.

  Alec felt sick. He had the impending awareness of devastation. In a distant part of his mind, he’d known he loved his niece and nephew, and, sure, Julia, too, as much as he dared let himself. When Josh had been killed in Afghanistan, Alec had naturally stepped in, assuming some of his brother’s responsibilities. Julia and the kids were family. That was what a man did.

  Until this moment, he hadn’t understood that they were the three people he loved most in the world. He didn’t know how he could survive without them.

  “Your mother drives you crazy,” he heard himself say hoarsely.

  “I wouldn’t move in with them. I’d get us our own place.” Her face was pinched as she searched his face. “What would you suggest? That I close my eyes and stab a pin into a map, pick someplace to go at random?”

  For a second he had double vision, those red pins floating before his eyes, and he thought with an astonishing burst of anguish, Julia. What if somehow, someway, that creep came across her? Los Feliz, the part of L.A. where she and Alec both lived, was upscale. She was pure class and beautiful. He—whoever he was—would like her. Want her. Hate her.

  She and the kids would be better off, safer, away from overcrowded, smoggy, crime-ridden Southern California.

  This was the moment when Alec realized he would do anything at all for her, Matt and Liana. Anything for them, and to keep them in his life even if he was painfully aware he was destined to remain on the outside looking in.

  “We’ll pick somewhere,” he said. “I should be able to get a job running a police department in a peaceful small town somewhere. Don’t go home to your parents. Let’s stay together.”

  The shock in her green-gold eyes was such that, for a terrifying instant, he thought he’d blown it. And then those eyes filled with tears. “I can’t ask you—”

  “I’m offering.” He couldn’t let himself touch her, so he didn’t move. “I’m ready for a change, Julia.”

  She pressed fingers to her lips, laughing and crying at the same time. “Oh, God. If you mean it...”

  All the fear left him in a rush. “I mean it. I’ll go online and start looking tonight. I’ll let you know where I find possible job openings. You can research the towns. We’ll find the perfect one. I promise.”

  There was a minute there when he thought she wanted to throw herself into his arms. But, as always, she turned away. Snatching up a dish towel, she began mopping her face.

  “Do you think this is what Josh would want us to do?”

  She always did that, produced his brother’s name as if she were lighting a candle at his altar.

  And I’m pathetic to feel jealous. Worse than pathetic, he thought in disgust. Why wasn’t he glad she’d loved his brother so much?

  “Yeah.” He pulled a smile from the hat. “Josh would say go for it.”

  Copyright © 2014 by Janice Kay Johnson

  ISBN-13: 9781460327913

  IN HER CORNER

  Copyright © 2014 by Vicki So

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  ISBN: 978-1-4603-3247-4

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  The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:

  The Secrets of Her Past

  Copyright © 2014 by Emilie Rose Cunningham

  A Real Live Hero

  Copyright © 2014 by Kimberly Sheetz

  In Her Corner

  Copyright © 2014 by Vicki So

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  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

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