Anton Jervais cleared his throat, then addressed Jesse. “We owe you a debt we can never repay. Please, take the money.”
Jesse glared at the men, then, to their collective astonishment, pushed back his chair and stormed out of the room.
Jesse watched the waves crash against the jagged rocks that lined the beach below the Jervais home, feeling as if each one were battering away at his heart. He’d thought he could do this: bring Honesty home, reunite her with her family, then walk away without a backward glance.
He owed her that, for the way he’d doubted her story.
But the instant Jervais tried pushing off the ransom money on him as reward for finding his daughter, it all became too clear: he’d have paid twice as much to keep Honesty with him.
“Jesse?”
He felt her approach, but couldn’t bring himself to look at her. What for? To remind him what he’d be missing for the rest of his life?
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
He gave a single stiff nod, and wondered if she’d come to say goodbye before taking up her duties as heiress to Jervais Shipping.
“My father wants you to find my sister.”
“If he’s looking for a detective, he’ll have to look elsewhere. I’m not for hire.”
“You mean you’re not going back to Denver?”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Honesty. I loved working for the agency, but . . .” Hell. What was he going to do with himself now? She was right; he’d never be happy tending a bunch of cows. He wanted passion in his life. Unpredictability. Adventure. He wanted all the things Honesty had brought back into his world—the challenges, the excitement. He wanted the rush of the chase, the thrill of the escape, the risk of the unknown.
And he wanted her at his side.
The thought of spending another single, solitary night under the stars without her made his chest hurt. An intense sadness came over Jesse as he realized what he should have known months ago. “I just don’t think I’m cut out for this line of work anymore.”
“But why? You’re a wonderful agent!”
“Once, maybe, but that was before I lost the edge.” It was the first time Jesse had admitted the truth aloud, even to himself.
“Oh, Jesse.” She slipped up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
Jesse closed his eyes in agony.
“You didn’t lose your edge,” she said. “It just got dulled a bit.”
“I lost it. If I doubted that before, you became a sharp reminder.”
“Why, because you didn’t know of my connection to Deuce? Jesse, give me some credit; I didn’t spend a lifetime with the greatest con man in the West without learning a few tricks.”
He knew she was trying to lessen his sense of failure, but the attempt fell flat. “I should have known who you were.”
“How could you have known, when I didn’t even know myself? Deuce was very good at what he did, or he wouldn’t have gotten away with it for sixteen years. And you are very good at what you do, or I would have picked up on your identity a long time ago.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But it doesn’t change anything. A man gets tired of always watching his back.”
“I’ll watch your back.”
Jesse didn’t know if he was more surprised or touched by the offer. Honesty might be impulsive to a fault, but she didn’t make commitments lightly. He turned in her arms and studied her face. “What are you saying?”
She laid her palms on his chest and stared at the tiny pearl button at his throat. “I’m saying that I don’t know how you expect me to carry on as if we never met. As if I never fell in love with you.”
Tenderly, he brushed her cheek, savoring the softness of her skin. “Honesty . . . do you even know who I am?”
“You’re my strength. My music. My safe harbor. Everything’s off-balance when I’m not with you.”
He crushed her to him, and felt her soul clinging to his with greedy, grasping fingers.
“Without each other, who are we?”
There was a wealth of meaning behind the simple question. Like him, Honesty seemed to be looking for an identity. And a certainty filled him then that they had found it.
“We’re the same people we were yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. Our names might be different, but our hearts haven’t changed.”
“Do you really believe that?” she asked, her eyes alive with hope.
“It’s the only thing in life I believe without question.”
“Then why can’t you believe that I feel the same for you now as I did the day I met you?”
“Because if I believed it, I’d never be able to walk away from you.”
“Then don’t. Stay here with me.”
“I can’t stay here. I left this kind of life years ago.”
“Then take me with you.”
He spun around and gazed at her in shock. “This is where you belong, Honesty.”
“No, this is where Aniste Jervais belongs. I’m not an heiress, Jesse, I’m the daughter of the greatest confidence man in the West. Imagine the damage I could do to a shipping company.”
A sad smile touched his lips at her attempt to make light of her own talents.
She stroked the lapels of his jacket and in that velvety voice that had captivated him from the first, said, “I don’t blame you if you aren’t willing to take a chance on me after I’ve been so dishonest with you, but I’ve spent too many years wandering the land to spend the rest of my days trapped in a glass cage. I’d much rather spend them sleuthing with my husband—if he’ll have me.”
Astounded and humbled that she would give up a future most women only dreamed of for him, Jesse realized that it wasn’t the truth he prized above all things, but Honesty. “Promise me one thing: that you will never lie to me or keep secrets from me. You’re the one person I need to trust.”
“Does this mean you’ll take me with you?”
His heart soared, and his arms tightened around her. “Someone’s got to put those skills of yours to good use.” She threw her arms around him with an elated shriek, and Jesse couldn’t resist taunting, “You’ve got a few other skills that need putting to good use, too.”
The wicked smile she gave him was easily worth a million dollars.
Dear Reader,
Now that you’ve come to the end of your book I’m sure you’re like me—eager to discover something new to read and longing for a fresh, exciting, sensuous romance to entertain you.
Remember, each month there are four delicious Avon romances to choose from, so even if you’ve just finished one, there are three more awaiting you where romances are sold. And next month you’ll be able to choose from these four unforgettable titles.
A Notorious Love by Sabrina Jeffries: She’s a proper young lady, compelled to join forces with a dashing rogue to rescue her runaway sister. He’s a man no proper young lady should be seen with—but he’s devastatingly attractive . . . and oh, so irresistible. Sabrina Jeffries is a rising star, whose work sparkles with wit and sizzles with passion—this book is truly unmissable!
Next Stop, Paradise by Sue Civil-Brown: If you love contemporary romance that is high-spirited, delightful, and truly unique, then don’t miss this one! When a small town lady cop matches wits with a handsome, smooth-talking TV journalist, well, you know something special is going to happen! With a touch of magic and a whole lot of charm Next Stop, Paradise should be on your book-buying list.
Secret Vows by Mary Reed McCall: It’s always exciting to bring you a book by a brand-new author . . . one who has a spectacular career ahead of her. In Secret Vows you’ll find a soul-stirring love story between Catherine of Somerset and Baron Grayson de Camville. And though severe punishment faces Catherine if she fails in her mission, she can’t help but fall in love with this man she’s been forced to marry—and ordered to destroy.
An Innocent Mistress by Rebecca Wade: He’s a ragged bachelor sworn to avenge his imprisoned bro
ther; she’s the fiery woman known as the mistress of a fabled bounty hunter—but is she concealing a secret identity? Passion flares . . . and no one is quite who they seem to be in this surefire blockbuster of romance.
There you have it—four brand-new romances from the premiere publisher of romance . . . Avon Books.
Enjoy,
Lucia Macro
Executive Editor
REL 0801
About the Author
Photo by Dobbs Photography
I firmly believe in two things: Life is too short to waste cleaning house and every soul has a mate.
Thankfully my family has become quite adept at wielding a broom and dust rag, because it gives me more time to devote to finding perfect mates for my characters.
Even as a child, I was deeply fascinated with the nineteenth-century American West and often dreamed of living at the Ponderosa or in the Little House on the Prairie. So when I began writing, it seemed only right that I tell stories of the era—of cowboys, gamblers, mountaineers, lawmen—and the spirited women who capture their hearts.
When I’m not playing matchmaker for my imaginary friends, working at my “outside” secretarial job, or carting my brood of four around to their various activities, I avoid housework by dragging my family on research trips, watching football with my husband, making a dent in Mount To-Be-Read, or surfing the Net.
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Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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AN UNLIKELY LADY. Copyright © 2001 by Rachelle Nelson. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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