www.millsandboon.co.uk

      To Gretchen Jones,

       My personal computer genius, back deck sitter and shoe

       fetish friend. Thanks for your friendship and support.

      I appreciate you!

       Chapter 1

      “I can’t believe you’re going to do something so risky,” Natalie Sinclair exclaimed.

      Grace leaned back in the kitchen chair and smiled at her younger sister. “This conversation is backward. Isn’t it usually me saying stuff like that to you?”

      The two were seated in Grace’s kitchen where the late May afternoon breeze drifted through the open windows, bringing with it the sweet scents of early summer.

      “That’s because normally I’m the one doing the crazy, reckless things,” Natalie replied. She picked up her lemonade and took a sip, eyeing Grace over the top of the glass as if suspecting her older sister had been replaced by a look-alike alien. “Maybe this is some sort of postpartum insanity,” she said as she placed her glass back on the table.

      Grace laughed. “It’s been almost a year since I was pregnant. This definitely isn’t postpartum anything.” Her laughter faded as she leaned forward. “I have to do this, Natalie. I’ve made up my mind, and I’m leaving first thing in the morning.”

      Natalie shook her head. “At least give me the directions to where you’ll be so I know where to send the police when you’re in trouble.”

      Grace opened the manila folder next to her laptop and took out a piece of paper. “I already intended to give you the details, although I’m certainly not expecting any trouble.” She handed Natalie the directions she’d printed off her computer earlier in the morning.

      “You’re leaving here to travel almost two hundred miles away to a place you’ve never been before because some person on the internet, who you’ve never met, told you to go there. Gee, sounds brilliant to me,” Natalie said sarcastically.

      Grace felt an uncharacteristic flush heat her cheeks. “It’s not just anyone. It’s MysteryMom.”

      “Yeah, and for all you know this MysteryMom is some fifty-year-old male pervert sitting around in his underwear and talking to you over the computer.”

      Once again Grace couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve been corresponding through email with MysteryMom for almost two years now. I’d think if that were the case I would have gotten a clue by now. Besides, I’m taking my gun with me.”

      Both Grace and Natalie had gotten handguns from their mother on their twenty-first birthdays, unusual gifts from a strong, nontraditional woman. She had endured a violent mugging and had sworn her daughters would never be helpless victims.

      “At least that makes me feel a little better,” Natalie conceded.

      “It would make me feel a little better if you had a job. Are you putting in applications everywhere?” Grace asked, eager to get the conversation off her plans and on to something else. Certainly Natalie’s lack of employment was a concern, especially since she wasn’t going to school either. She was twenty-four years old and just seemed to be drifting through her life at the moment.

      “Sure, I’m trying, but I can’t find anyone who wants to hire me.”

      “Maybe if you’d take that ring out of your eyebrow somebody would be more interested in giving you a job,” Grace replied gently. “Or you could go back to school and get some training. You have the money to do that and you could decide to go into whatever field you wanted to.”

      “Okay, that’s my clue to get out of here,” Natalie said, not hiding her irritation. She checked her watch. “Not only do I not want one of your loving lectures, but I’m meeting Jimmy in a few minutes for a late lunch.”

      “When do I get to meet this paragon of virtue that you’ve been dating?” Grace asked as they both rose from the table.

      Natalie gave her a secretive little smile. “When I’m good and ready for you to meet him.” Together the two walked to the front door. “You’ll call me as soon as you get to where you’re going tomorrow and let me know that you’re okay?”

      “Of course I will,” Grace replied and pulled Natalie close for a quick hug. There was almost ten years’ difference in their ages, and Grace had always mothered Natalie. Now that their mother was gone, she felt especially maternal toward her younger sister.

      Natalie stepped out of the embrace and opened the front door. “You know the routine. You’ve said it often enough to me. Drive carefully and be aware of any potential trouble around you.”

      “I will. And when I get home I want to meet this Jimmy of yours,” Grace replied.

      Natalie waved her hand as