With This Kiss

by Susan Meier

  “I’m trying to help you! Can’t you just accept it?”

  “No! Not help from you, anyway! Your family hates mine, Jericho.”

  When she used his name, Jericho’s chest tightened and his nerves sprang to life. Never before had his name sounded so intimate. So personal. So sensual.

  “I won’t be run out of town.”

  “I’m not running you out of town.”

  “Right! What other reason could you possibly have for wanting me to go?”

  Knowing she wouldn’t believe him if he put this into words, and officially at his frustration limit, Jericho grabbed her shoulders, yanked her to him and kissed her. He kissed her deeply, instantly falling into the act as if he were made to kiss her. He devoured her mouth, tasting her, enjoying her—and she responded. As if she were made to kiss him.

  Dear Reader,

  This month seems to be all about change. Just as our heroines are about to have some fabulous makeovers, Silhouette Romance will be undergoing some changes over the next months that we believe will make this classic line even more relevant to your challenging lives. Of course, you’ll still find some of your favorite SR authors and favorite themes, but look for some new names, more international settings and even more emotional reads.

  Over the next few months the company is also focusing attention on the new direction and package for Harlequin Romance. We believe that the blend of authors and stories coming in that line will thrill readers and satisfy every emotion.

  Just like our heroines, my responsibilities will be changing, as I will be working on Harlequin NEXT. Please know how much I have enjoyed sharing these heartwarming, aspirational reads with you.

  With all best wishes,

  Ann Leslie Tuttle

  Associate Senior Editor

  With This Kiss

  SUSAN MEIER

  To the senior editors for Silhouette Romance

  who have given us love, laughter and

  romance for over two decades.

  Books by Susan Meier

  Silhouette Romance

  Stand-In Mom #1022

  Temporarily Hers #1109

  Wife in Training #1184

  Merry Christmas, Daddy #1192

  *In Care of the Sheriff #1283

  *Guess What? We’re Married! #1338

  Husband from 9 to 5 #1354

  *The Rancher and the Heiress #1374

  †The Baby Bequest #1420

  †Bringing up Babies #1427

  †Oh, Babies! #1433

  His Expectant Neighbor #1468

  Hunter’s Vow #1487

  Cinderella and the CEO #1498

  Marrying Money #1519

  The Boss’s Urgent Proposal #1566

  Married Right Away #1579

  Married in the Morning #1601

  **Baby on Board #1639

  **The Tycoon’s Double Trouble #1650

  **The Nanny Solution #1662

  Love, Your Secret Admirer #1684

  Twice a Princess #1758

  ††Baby Before Business #1774

  ††Prince Baby #1783

  ††Snowbound Baby #1791

  ‡Wishing and Hoping #1819

  ‡One Man and a Baby #1824

  ‡With This Kiss #1827

  Silhouette Desire

  Take the Risk #567

  SUSAN MEIER

  is one of eleven children, and though she’s yet to write a book about a big family, many of her books explore the dynamics of “unusual” family situations, such as large work “families,” bosses who behave like overprotective fathers or “sister” bonds created between friends. Because she has more than twenty nieces and nephews, children also are always popping up in her stories. Many of the funny scenes in her books are based on experiences raising her own children or interacting with her nieces and nephews.

  She was born and raised in western Pennsylvania and continues to live in Pennsylvania.

  Dear Reader,

  Every once in a while a story comes along that just tickles a writer’s fancy, and With This Kiss was that kind of story for me. I love a good makeover. What woman doesn’t want to be transformed from average to goddess? But in Rayne Fegan’s case the transformation was more fun than normal when she changes from frumpy newspaper reporter to a femme fatale absolutely determined to get her man.

  But Jericho Capriotti is in a web of his own making. Years before he’d seen her all decked out at a party and he’s been weaving fantasies for years.

  The only problem is their families hate each other. It’s a Romeo and Juliet with a sexy twist.

  I hope you enjoy this final installment in THE CUPID CAMPAIGN!

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter One

  When Rayne Fegan stepped inside the Calhoun Corners’ borough building, the room instantly quieted. The police officers who sat at two of the four metal desks stopped writing. The two who stood by the blind-covered windows, pouring coffee from the pot perched on the wide ledge, openly stared at her.

  No one asked her what she wanted. No one said, “Can I help you?” Everybody just stared.

  She strode down the aisle created by the gray metal desks, directly to the office of the chief of police, Jericho Capriotti. Though she honestly believed she would rather be shot than knock on his closed door, she lifted her hand and rapped twice.

  “Come in!” he growled.

  Rayne ran her fingers along the back of her head to assure that her ponytail was secure, shoved her big glasses up her nose, and took a fortifying breath that she let out slowly before she twisted the knob and walked in.

  Jericho sat with his back to the door, signing what looked to be a stack of checks on the credenza behind him. “What’s so important that you had to interrupt me?”

  “I n-n-need your help,” Rayne said, and nearly cursed because she had stuttered with fear. She couldn’t believe she was afraid of this man, then decided that technically she wasn’t “afraid” as much as she felt as if she were facing judgment day. Jericho Capriotti’s dad was mayor of Calhoun Corners. In the last election Rayne and her newspaper editor father had done everything within the bounds of journalistic propriety to unseat him. They never crossed the line. They only printed the truth. But in the op-ed pages of the Calhoun Corners Chronicle, where her dad could ask the readers to weigh the facts and carefully consider their choices, Rayne’s father had most certainly made it clear that the fourth estate thought it was time for new leadership.

  She had tried her best to get Jericho’s dad out of office and now when her dad was in trouble, the only person she could turn to was a man who hated her.

  “M-m-my dad is missing.”

  Jericho turned slowly and caught her gaze with his steady green eyes. Wearing a taupe uniform exactly like the officers in the main room out front, he looked formidable and official. But with his brown hair falling to his forehead and his light-colored eyes gleaming with fire, he also looked so darned sexy that Rayne did curse—albeit in her head. All her life she’d been dogged by a crush on this man who was so much older than she was that he’d never given her the time of day. Was it any wonder she’d agreed with her dad that it was time for Capriotti rule of Calhoun Corners to end?

  He smiled. “What did you say?”

  “You don’t have to be so damned happy about the fact that my dad is missing! To me it isn’t funny. And you’re no longer some sophomoric idiot who’s allowed to tease his way through life. You’re the chief
of police!”

  Damn him! Damn them all!

  “You’re right,” Jericho said, then wiped his hand across his face as if forcing himself to get rid of his smile. “I was out of line.”

  He gestured to an empty chair in front of his desk. “Sit. Can I get you some coffee or tea or something?”

  She didn’t bother wondering why he hadn’t asked her about coming directly to him, instead of simply approaching one of the officers out front. With the feud between their families, she had bypassed his staff and brought the matter to him to assure that he couldn’t sidestep responsibility. He had to take the case to prove he wouldn’t.

  “No coffee. No tea. No anything. I just want help finding my dad.”

  “Okay.”

  She primly took the seat he offered, then flipped through her father’s small pocket notebook until she found the page she wanted.

  She handed the pad across the desk. “As you can see from the date on his note, my dad left almost two weeks ago, but it took me until yesterday to track down and pay off the people he’s running from.”

  Jericho quickly scanned the missive. He didn’t even blink when he came to the part where her father admitted he’d been working to unseat Ben Capriotti as a way to pay back the money he’d borrowed from a loan shark. Jericho read impassively, then glanced up at her.

  “Rayne, according to this, your dad’s not missing.”

  “Of course he is! He hasn’t been home in nearly two weeks.”

  “But he left a note.”

  “Which doesn’t tell me where he is.” Rayne paused, sighed, and decided she needed to start this story from the beginning so he would understand. “I woke up about two weeks ago and found that note on the kitchen table. I immediately began looking for the loan shark,” she said, pointing to the name of the man her dad had written. “When I found him I told him I could pay off my dad’s debt, but it would take a day or two to get the money together.”

  “Why did your dad borrow forty thousand dollars?”

  Rayne licked her suddenly dry lips. “He wanted to become a breeder.”

  Jericho leaned back. “Oh.”

  “Yes!” she all but spat. “And he probably would have made a fortune like your father and brother-in-law, except, as always, my dad isn’t lucky.”

  “Are you insinuating my father is only successful because he’s lucky?”

  “I have no idea why your dad is successful, but at least his first mare didn’t die giving birth.”

  “What happen to the colt?”

  She swallowed. “It died, too.”

  Jericho put his forearms on the stack of papers on his desk and leaned toward her. “So, he borrowed money for an investment that didn’t pan out and couldn’t pay it back.”

  Grateful for the surprisingly kind way he phrased that, Rayne nodded.

  “And you paid it back?”

  She nodded again. “I had savings.” For the past year, she had lived with her dad and hadn’t spent money on clothes or entertainment, so she had plenty of cash to save. Now, she wished her dad had let her pay her share of their household expenses. Now, she wished she’d chosen a better outfit than worn jeans and an oversize T-shirt when forced to enter the enemy camp. Now, she wished her dad had simply confided that he wanted the chance to prove himself. She would have given him the money to purchase a mare if he had asked.

  “So my dad can come home but I can’t find him. I don’t have the resources. You do.”

  Jericho shook his head. “Not necessarily. If somebody doesn’t want to be found, there are lots of ways they can remain lost for a long time.”

  Rayne blinked back tears at the very real possibility that she might never see her dad again. “But there’s no reason for him to stay away.”

  Jericho gently said, “He doesn’t know that.”

  Rayne’s lip quivered. After meeting the incredibly frightening man from whom her father had borrowed his money, Rayne knew that if her dad believed he still owed that man money, he would stay away forever.

  “I do have a suggestion though.”

  She shot her gaze to Jericho’s.

  “I know a guy in Vegas who’s a skip tracer.”

  “One of the people who finds defendants who don’t show up for trial?”

  “Yes, he’s up on all the latest technology. He knows things and can do things the rest of us don’t and can’t.” He caught her gaze. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  She nodded. A skip tracer could skirt the edges of the law to find someone. A police officer couldn’t.

  “Do you want his name?”

  She nodded again. Jericho wrote a name and telephone number on a piece of paper and handed it to her.

  “Here. Tell Mac that I recommended you hire him.”

  Rising from her seat, Rayne quietly said, “Thanks.”

  Jericho cleared his throat. “You’re welcome.”

  Rayne left his office. Though her eyes stung with unshed tears, she walked to the door with her head held high. She opened it and marched out and down the street as if absolutely nothing were wrong. But when she entered the empty offices for the Calhoun Corners Chronicle, she deflated with misery.

  But, just as quickly, she forced herself to stand tall again. She wasn’t a quitter and she had the name of a skip tracer, somebody Jericho Capriotti recommended to search for her dad. She would find her dad. She had to.

  After Rayne left, Jericho pushed back his squeaky wooden chair, rose and walked into the main room of the police station. Aaron Jennings and Bill Freedman were gone. At seven sharp, they would have jumped into a cruiser to make an early morning sweep of the town, including stops at the elementary, middle and high schools. Greg Hatfield and Martha Wissinger sat at their desks. Martha, a veteran with twenty years on the force and hair she dyed platinum-blond, read the paper. Greg, a twenty-year-old newbie with brown hair who worked out so much his biceps strained against his uniform sleeve, was filling out the report for an incident from the night before. In another twenty minutes, Greg and Martha would go home to get some sleep and spend time with their families before their next shift that evening.

  Jericho was in a good town, working with good people. He’d come back to his hometown a reformed man. A respected law enforcement officer. Somebody his parents could be proud of. So why the hell had his brain picked today get a flash of memory of his stupid fantasy about Rayne Fegan?

  Jericho didn’t want to be even thinking any kind of good thought about the daughter of the man who had been a thorn in his family’s side for as long as Jericho could remember. He was home. Fences had been mended. His brother Rick was getting married in February. His sister Tia would be a mother in January. And he had a place at the table again for Thanksgiving next week. Only a fool would disturb the family harmony.

  Shaking his head, he walked to the window ledge housing the coffeepot. It was insane to scold himself for ideas he had no intention of following through on. Though he could have happily followed through on them three years ago when he’d run into Rayne at a party in Baltimore. He’d always believed there was another person behind those big glasses and big clothes she wore. When he saw her that night, wearing a tight red dress and contacts, with her yellow hair cascading around her shoulders, and behaving like a totally different person, he knew he had been correct. Calhoun Corners seemed to bring out the worst in Rayne Fegan and that night he had suspected he would meet the real Rayne.

  But his friends had wanted to leave and he traveled as part of a pack back then, so he hadn’t even said hello to her. But the image of her in that little red dress, sipping wine, flirting with a circle of very interested men had stayed with him. For years. Actually, that image had given him something to think about when he wanted to steer his mind away from choking Brad Baker right after he’d run off with Jericho’s live-in girlfriend.

  He had to be honest with himself and admit the memory had morphed into a fantasy. But now that he knew the persona Rayne hid was that of a pole
cat, not a tigress, he would easily be able to shove down the stupid notion that he wanted to take off those glasses and loosen her hair.

  “What did she want?”

  Feeling like a man caught with his hand in a cookie jar, Jericho glanced at Greg. “Nothing.”

  “Oh, come on, Jericho!” Martha groaned. “There’s no way Rayne Fegan would step foot in this office unless there was something so damned serious going on her in life that she couldn’t get help elsewhere. Spill it!”

  Jericho shook his head. He had absolutely no allegiance to Rayne Fegan. If anything, he and his family should be jumping for joy that her father was gone. Particularly since he’d left of his own volition. He wasn’t hurt or kidnapped or even in any danger now that the loan shark had been paid by Rayne.

  Just thinking her name made Jericho feel strange, but relegating his fantasy to the farthest corner of his brain, he remembered the forlorn look on her face when she realized it was possible her father would never come home. Mark Fegan might not be the only family Rayne had, but he was the parent who’d chosen to raise her. Her mother had made no secret of the fact that she didn’t want a child tagging along with her to New York City. Six-year-old Rayne had seemed to take the situation in her stride. After all, staying in Calhoun Corners had meant keeping her friends, her home, her father.

  But now that she’d alienated nearly everybody in town with her part in trying to unseat Jericho’s dad, and her father was gone, so was all of Rayne’s bluster. He couldn’t exactly feel sorry for the girl who’d dedicated most of the past year to making his family miserable, but having been on the outs with his own family and having lost his best friend when Brad ran off with Laura Beth, Jericho understood what it was like to be alone. He wouldn’t wish it on anybody.

  Not even Rayne.

  “It turns out that what she came in for isn’t a police matter after all. There’s no reason for me to brief you.”

  Martha groaned. Greg shook his head and went back to work on his report. Jericho returned to his office and forgot all about Rayne Fegan until he was striding along Main Street, on his way to the diner for lunch. He glanced down an alley and saw her walking up Second Street.