Mary Baxter Lynn

His Touch


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      Jessica held the doorknob so hard she winced with pain. A moment of panic seized her and held her motionless. Was that her bodyguard?

      “You’re obviously Jessica Kincaid.”

      His low, rough-sounding voice had a strange effect on her nerves. She stiffened. “And who might you be?”

      “Brant Harding, your bodyguard.”

      Jessica swallowed, suddenly at a loss for words. The first thought that came to mind was the word dangerous: with his dark, brooding looks, he reminded her of a stalking panther.

      Wetting her lips, she said inanely, “I wasn’t expecting you.”

      “That’s obvious.”

      She flushed, something she didn’t do often. “Won’t you come in?”

      He strode into the room. Reluctantly she closed the door behind her, fighting off the insane feeling that she was sealing her doom.

      His Touch

      Mary Lynn Baxter

      

www.mirabooks.co.uk

      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 Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Chapter Twenty-one

       Chapter Twenty-two

       Chapter Twenty-three

       Chapter Twenty-four

       Chapter Twenty-five

       Chapter Twenty-six

       Chapter Twenty-seven

       Chapter Twenty-eight

       Chapter Twenty-nine

       Chapter Thirty

       Chapter Thirty-one

       Chapter Thirty-Two

       Chapter Thirty-three

       Chapter Thirty-four

       Chapter Thirty-five

       Chapter Thirty-six

       Chapter Thirty-seven

       Chapter Thirty-eight

       Chapter Thirty-nine

       Chapter Forty

      One

      The instant she walked into her town home, Jessica Kincaid sensed something was not quite right. She tried to mask her uneasy feelings and not let on, but her efforts didn’t work. Her friend called her hand.

      “What’s wrong?”

      Frowning, Jessica peered at Veronica Nash and forced a smile. “Why do you think something’s wrong?”

      Veronica’s pixie features turned into a matching frown. “Because I know you, that’s why. You looked spooked.”

      “I am,” Jessica admitted with blunt honesty, deciding it was foolish to hide the truth from her friend any longer.

      “Want to tell me what’s going on?” Veronica asked, her tone pressing.

      Jessica smothered a sigh, at the same time running her hands through her short, highlighted brown hair. “How ’bout we get comfy first and have a cup of coffee?”

      “Works for me.” Veronica proceeded to toss her purse on the floor, then plop down on the sofa. “Need any help?”

      Jessica shook her head. “I think I can handle it.”

      If only that were true about the rest of her life, Jessica thought, puttering around in her bright yellow-and-green kitchen. Once the coffee was dripping, she paused and took a deep breath.

      As mayor of Dallas, Texas, one of the most up-and-coming cities in the south—in the nation, for that matter—she couldn’t give in to this unexpected turn of events. She had to come up with a way to handle things herself and not involve the police.

      “Sure you don’t need help?”

      Veronica’s lively voice made Jessica move. “I’m coming. I was