Особое чувство собственного ирландства. Пат Инголдзби
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Quito shut the door to the sleek, black sports car and stepped back. “Will I see you again before you leave?”
It wouldn’t be wise. The few minutes she’d spent with him already were burned into her memory. “I don’t know. Do you want to?”
A devilish smile suddenly crooked his mouth and he bent his head through the open window and kissed her. For a moment she was stunned and then, slowly, her mouth opened and her hand came up to cup the side of his face.
How could it be that the taste of him, the feel of his lips, were so sweetly the same? she wondered. And how could it be that she still wanted him so badly?
By the time he pulled his head back from hers, she could feel her pulse beating wildly in her temples.
“What do you think?” he asked.
Dear Reader,
Well, as promised, the dog days of summer have set in, which means one last chance at the beach reading that’s an integral part of this season (even if you do most of it on the subway, like I do!). We begin with The Beauty Queen’s Makeover by Teresa Southwick, next up in our MOST LIKELY TO… miniseries. She was the girl “most likely to” way back when, and he was the awkward geek. Now they’ve all but switched places, and the fireworks are about to begin….
In From Here to Texas, Stella Bagwell’s next MEN OF THE WEST book, a Navajo man and the girl who walked out on him years ago have to decide if they believe in second chances. And speaking of second chances (or first ones, anyway), picture this: a teenaged girl obsessed with a gorgeous college boy writes down some of her impure thoughts in her diary, and buries said diary in the walls of an old house in town. Flash forward ten-ish years, and the boy, now a man, is back in town—and about to dismantle the old house, brick by brick. Can she find her diary before he does? Find out in Christine Flynn’s finale to her GOING HOME miniseries, Confessions of a Small-Town Girl. In Everything She’s Ever Wanted by Mary J. Forbes, a traumatized woman is finally convinced to come out of hiding, thanks to the one man she can trust. In Nicole Foster’s Sawyer’s Special Delivery, a man who’s played knight-in-shining armor gets to do it again—to a woman (cum newborn baby) desperate for his help, even if she hates to admit it. And in The Last Time I Saw Venice by Vivienne Wallington, a couple traumatized by the loss of their child hopes that the beautiful city that brought them together can work its magic—one more time.
So have your fun. And next month it’s time to get serious—about reading, that is….
Enjoy!
Gail Chasan
Senior Editor
From Here to Texas
Stella Bagwell
To my editor, Stacy Boyd, for being such a dear joy to
work with. Thank you for keeping me on the right track.
STELLA BAGWELL
sold her first book to Silhouette in November 1985. More than fifty novels later, she still loves her job and says she isn’t completely content unless she’s writing. Recently she and her husband moved from the hills of Oklahoma to Seadrift, Texas, a sleepy little fishing town located on the coastal bend. Stella says the water, the tropical climate and the seabirds make it a lovely place to let her imagination soar and to put the stories in her head down on paper.
She and her husband have one son, Jason, who lives and teaches high school math in nearby Port Lavaca.
My darling Clementine,
Morning is dawning and as I watch the sun rise over the desert mountains, I can hardly wait for the day to come and the hours to pass before I can be with you again.
The scent of you, the taste of you, the feel of your soft body next to mine runs deep in my blood and I realize I am a lost man.
I understand that we come from different worlds and that you’re afraid to try to live in mine. But when we make love I believe we both forget that I am Mexican and Navajo and that you are from a rich, white family.
If you go back to Texas, my love, my broken heart will go with you for always.
Love,
Quito
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter One
Quito Perez was sweating by the time he walked into the Wagon Wheel Café and, though he hated sitting close to the door, he sank onto the first available bar stool rather than work his way toward a booth in the back.
Damn it! He hated the weak quiver in his legs, the labored breathing after two blocks of simple walking. Even so, he was grateful to God to still be alive.
A month had passed since someone had driven up beside his SUV and blasted three nine millimeter slugs at him. The bullets had smashed into his vehicle and gone on to shatter his ribs, collapse a lung and rip his spleen to shreds. But he’d cheated the murdering bastard who’d tried to kill him. He’d survived.
“Hey, Sheriff, how’s it going today?”
He looked up to see Betty, a middle-aged waitress who’d worked at the Wagon Wheel for as long as he could remember. She had coarse features and rough hands but she was a hardworking woman with a soft heart. He could always count on her for good service and a sympathetic word.
“I can’t complain, Betty. I saw the sunrise this morning.”
With an understanding smile, she reached across the countertop and patted his hand. “We all prayed for you, Sheriff, while you were down. And see, you’re already up and around and back in the saddle,” she said brightly.
Quito wasn’t exactly back in the saddle completely. But a week ago, he’d finally returned to light duty at his desk. It was great to be back at work, yet he wished he could go at full throttle. He was a man who’d never been sick or down with an injury. Having to coddle himself was a pain in the rear. One that he was more than ready to be rid of.
“I hope all the people around the county know how much I appreciate their thoughts and prayers,” Quito told her. “I just wish I was back to full strength. Jess and Daniel are working themselves to death.”
Betty pulled a pad and pen from a pocket on her pink uniform. “I wouldn’t worry one minute about those two lawmen of yours. They’re young and in their prime. You can’t work those two guys down. Besides, you’ll be your old self before you know it. You just need some of Nadine’s biscuits and eggs to put some tallow back on you.”
“Add some bacon and hash browns to that and I’ll eat it,” he told her.
“I hear you,” she said with a wide grin. The woman scribbled the order down on her pad, then hurried away to pour the sheriff a cup of coffee.
To his left and a few feet behind him, Quito heard the cowbell jingle as the door to the café opened and closed. Seconds later, a strong male hand was squeezing his shoulder.
“Mornin’ Quito.”