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This month, in
HER LONE STAR PROTECTOR
by Peggy Moreland,
meet Robert Cole—private investigator and drop-dead-gorgeous bachelor. Rob was on a mission to solve a murder, but instead he found himself falling for Rebecca Todman—his lovely young suspect!
SILHOUETTE DESIRE
IS PROUD TO PRESENT THE
Five wealthy Texas bachelors—all members of the state’s most exclusive club—set out to uncover the traitor in their midst…and find true love.
And don’t miss
TALL, DARK…AND FRAMED?
by Cathleen Galitz, the third installment of the Texas Cattleman’s Club: The Last Bachelor series, available next month in Silhouette Desire!
Dear Reader,
Celebrate the rites of spring with six new passionate, powerful and provocative love stories from Silhouette Desire!
Reader favorite Anne Marie Winston’s Billionaire Bachelors: Stone, our March MAN OF THE MONTH, is a classic marriage-of-convenience story, in which an overpowering attraction threatens a platonic arrangement. And don’t miss the third title in Desire’s glamorous in-line continuity DYNASTIES: THE CONNELLYS, The Sheikh Takes a Bride by Caroline Cross, as sparks fly between a sexy-as-sin sheikh and a feisty princess.
In Wild About a Texan by Jan Hudson, the heroine falls for a playboy millionaire with a dark secret. Her Lone Star Protector by Peggy Moreland continues the TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB: THE LAST BACHELOR series, as an unlikely love blossoms between a florist and a jaded private eye.
A night of passion produces major complications for a doctor and the social worker now carrying his child in Dr. Destiny, the final title in Kristi Gold’s miniseries MARRYING AN M.D. And an ex-marine who discovers he’s heir to a royal throne must choose between his kingdom and the woman he loves in Kathryn Jensen’s The Secret Prince.
Kick back, relax and treat yourself to all six of these sexy new Desire romances!
Enjoy!
Joan Marlow Golan
Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire
Her Lone Star Protector
Peggy Moreland
This book is dedicated to W. J. and Carmen Ann Fisher. Thanks for all the free advice on goat raising, cattle breeding, fence building, brush clearing, snake dodging, poison ivy cures and heavy-equipment driving lessons. We’re in your debt…just don’t ask us to pay up!
PEGGY MORELAND
published her first romance with Silhouette in 1989 and continues to delight readers with stories set in her home state of Texas. Winner of the National Readers’ Choice Award, a nominee for the Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice Award and a finalist for the prestigious RITA Award, Peggy has appeared on the USA Today and Waldenbooks bestseller lists. When not writing, she enjoys spending time at the farm riding her quarter horse, Lo-Jump. She, her husband and three children make their home in Round Rock, Texas. You may write to Peggy at P.O. Box 2453, Round Rock, TX 78680-2453, or e-mail her care of eHarlequin.com.
“What’s Happening in Royal?”
NEWS FLASH, March—There’s a murderer loose in Royal, Texas! Sources report that the death of Eric Chambers was no accident—someone wanted Wescott Oil’s vice president of accounting out of the way for good. But who? The police don’t have any leads at the moment. Luckily, Royal’s own sexy sleuth, Robert Cole, is on the case!
Our sources have been trying to talk to Rebecca Todman, the attractive florist who discovered the murder—but it seems Rob has beaten us to the punch! He’s been spending an awful lot of time with Rebecca…and are smoldering glances and searing kisses part of his new interrogation procedures? If so, we predict Robert will have suspects lining up at his door for questioning….
First theft and now murder—things have gone from bad to worse at Wescott Oil. Our reporters tried to get hold of Sebastian Wescott, but the CEO has refused to comment on the proceedings. Could Sebastian be hiding something? While nobody seems to know for certain, rumors are flying, and his friends at the Texas Cattleman’s Club seem worried….
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
One
Rebecca glanced down at the clipboard she’d propped on the console of her minivan and worried her lip as she did some quick math. Ten, fifteen minutes tops at Eric Chambers’s house to water and tend his plants, another fifteen at the Olsens’ to do the same. Ten or less at the Mortons’ to deliver the new potted palm Mrs. Morton had purchased for her sunroom. Factor in driving time of about twenty minutes and she should make it to her shop, In Bloom, in time to open for business by 9:00 a.m.
But barely, she reflected with a frown as she pulled to a stop in front of Eric’s house. Her frown deepened to one of puzzlement when she noticed Eric’s car parked on the drive. Strictly regimented about every aspect of his life, Eric always left for work precisely at 7:30, which allowed her to tend his plants undisturbed, an arrangement they’d made from the get-go that had suited them both.
Wondering if perhaps he was ill, she gathered the tote filled with her supplies and headed for the back door. Though he had given her a key to his home when he’d hired her to care for his plants, she opted to knock, rather than let herself in as she normally did. She didn’t want to catch him unawares…or worse, in his underwear. She choked a laugh as she waited, imagining the expression on the face of the very prim and proper Eric Chambers if she were to catch him dressed in only his B.V.D.’s.
Her smile faded when her knock produced no response. With a harried glance at her wristwatch, she rapped her knuckles on the door again, louder this time, then pressed her ear to the wood, listening, but she didn’t hear a sound from inside. Convinced that Eric was indeed ill and possibly too sick to get out of bed, she tried the doorknob. To her surprise, it turned in her hand.
She hesitated a moment, unsure whether she should just barge in. With another glance at her watch, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. Though the kitchen was immaculate as always and flooded with cheerful morning sunshine that streamed through the breakfast-room windows, goose flesh popped up on her arms. The house was quiet. Almost too quiet.
“Eric?” she called uneasily. She tiptoed toward the doorway that led to the hallway and his bedroom beyond. “Eric?” she called again, raising her voice.
When she didn’t hear a reply, she waited uncertainly, wondering if she should go to his bedroom and check on him or just tend his plants and leave.
“He’s your neighbor,” she scolded herself under her breath, “and he lives alone. The least you can do is see if he needs anything, especially since he’s been so kind to send customers your way.”
Silently berating herself for her selfish ingratitude, she marched toward the bedroom door. She paused at the open doorway, sent up a silent prayer that