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“Who do you think you are?” Clair raged, Letter to Reader Title Page About the Author Dedication Prologue 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 Epilogue Copyright
“Who do you think you are?” Clair raged,
clinging to the rage like a lifeline. “Let go of me! Who do you think I am?”
With passion clouding his brain, Jake’s temper flared. “I thought you were a woman who wants to get naked as much as I do.”
Desire disappeared faster than gold in a mining camp. “You arrogant bastard! Get away from me! Stay far away from me!” She pulled free of him.
He looked momentarily taken aback, his eyes wide with suppressed passion. “Woman, you can curse me all you want, but I know what was happening here. You want me as much as I want you.”
Without thinking, Clair reached back and swung at him, but he caught her hand, trapping it in his larger one. Black eyes locked with blue, and then he released her.
“Stay away from me!” she flung at him, and with a flounce of black cotton, she spun on her heel and stormed up the stairs.
Dear Reader,
Known for her moving and dramatic Westerns, award-winning author Susan Amarillas’s new book, Wild Card, is the story of a lady gambler who is hiding in a remote Wyoming town, terrified that the local sheriff will discover she’s wanted for murder in Texas. Susan’s last two books have won her 5
Talented newcomer Lyn Stone is back with her second book, The Arrangement, a unique and touching story about a young female gossip columnist who sets out to expose a notorious composer and winds up first agreeing to marry him, then falling in love with him. Kit Gardner’s The Untamed Heart, a Western with a twist, has a refined English hero who happens to be an earl, and a feisty, ranch hand heroine who can do anything a man can do, only better.
This month also brings us a new concept for Harlequin Historicals, our first in-line short-story collection, The Knights of Christmas. Three of our award-winning authors, Suzanne Barclay, Margaret Moore and Deborah Simmons, have joined forces to create a Medieval Christmas anthology that is sure to spread cheer all year long.
Whatever your tastes in reading, we hope you enjoy all four books, available wherever Harlequin Historicals are sold.
Sincerely,
Tracy Farrell
Senior Editor
Please address questions and book requests to:
Harlequin Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
Wild Card
Susan Amarillas
SUSAN AMARILLAS
was born and raised in Maryland and moved to California when she married. She quickly discovered her love of the high desert country—she says it was as if she were “coming home.” When she’s not writing, she and her husband love to travel the back roads of the West, visiting ghost towns and little museums, and always coming home with an armload of books. She enjoys hearing from readers. You may write to her at the address below.
Susan Amarillas
P.O. Box 951056
Mission Hills, CA 91395
To my editor, Margaret Marbury, for her skill, her
patience and her encouragement. Thanks, Margaret.
You’re simply the best.
Prologue
Texas 1879
The gun fell from her hand....
The sheriffs body slipped silently to the floor.... Heart racing, Clair watched as the crimson stain on the man’s shirt grew steadily larger. With every frantic beat of her heart she backed away, one faltering step after another. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. Her mind denied the reality of the gruesome scene.
Panic overcame all other thought.
Run!
She flung open the door and slammed full force into the chest of Buck Hilliard, deputy sheriff. He grabbed her hard, his fingers digging painfully into her shoulders through the torn cotton of her dress, his steely gaze focused on the body beside the bed.
“You bitch,” he snarled. “You’ve killed him.”
“I didn’t,” she managed to say, though it was obvious to anyone, including her, that was exactly what she had done. Dimly she realized all sound in the saloon below had stopped.
“Hey,” a man’s voice called up. “Who’s shootin’ up there?”
She met the deputy’s icy blue eyes and she knew she was doomed. Every muscle in her body tensed wire tight. Blood pounded in her neck and her temples. He had her. Trial, jail...and worse.
Terror merged with a lifetime of self-preservation. “Let me go!” she ordered, struggling as she did.
He was still staring at the body when, without a word, he did just that. He let her go. She didn’t wait to ask questions. She shouldered past him and raced full-out toward the rear door, her red satin skirt hitched up around her knees.
Behind her, she heard the men clamoring up the stairs,