“Who are you, really?”
“Bank robbers aren’t edgy and taciturn. They don’t make jokes. They don’t take hostages on the spur of the moment unless they’re trapped. And they’re certainly not considerate of their captives. You’re having way too much fun.” Her remarkable eyes narrowed. “I suspect you’ve got an agenda.”
“Relax. You’re safe with me. But the less you know, the better.”
“Let me guess. You could tell me, but then you’d have to kill me.” She glanced out the window, her conflicted body language telling him she wanted to believe him but didn’t quite dare.
Dear Reader,
As always, Silhouette Intimate Moments is coming your way with six fabulously exciting romances this month, starting with bestselling Merline Lovelace, who always has The Right Stuff. This month she concludes her latest miniseries, TO PROTECT AND DEFEND, and you’ll definitely want to be there for what promises to be a slam-bang finale.
Next, pay another visit to HEARTBREAK CANYON, where award winner Marilyn Pappano knows One True Thing: that the love between Cassidy McRae and Jace Barnett is meant to be, despite the lies she’s forced to tell. Lyn Stone begins a wonderful new miniseries with Down to the Wire. Follow DEA agent Joe Corda to South America, where he falls in love—and so will you, with all the SPECIAL OPS. Brenda Harlen proves that sometimes Extreme Measures are the only way to convince your once-and-only love—and the child you never knew!—that this time you’re home to stay. When Darkness Calls, Caridad Piñeiro’s hero comes out to…slay? Not exactly, but he is a vampire, and just the kind of bad boy to win the heart of an FBI agent with a taste for danger. Finally, let new author Diana Duncan introduce you to a Bulletproof Bride, who quickly comes to realize that her kidnapper is not what he seems—and is a far better match than the fiancé she was just about to marry.
Enjoy them all—and come back next month for more of the best and most exciting romance reading around, right here in Silhouette Intimate Moments.
Yours,
Leslie J. Wainger
Executive Editor
Bulletproof Bride
Diana Duncan
DIANA DUNCAN
Diana Duncan’s fascination with books started before she could walk, when her librarian grandmother toted her to work. Diana crafted her first tale at age four, a riveting account of Perky the Kitten, printed in orange crayon. The discovery of her mom’s Harlequin Romance novels at age fourteen sparked a lifelong affection for plucky heroines and dashing heroes. She loves writing about complex, conflicted men and strong, intelligent women with the courage to dive into the biggest adventure of all—falling in love.
When not writing stories brimming with heart, humor and sizzling passion, Diana spends her time with her husband, two daughters and two cats in their Portland, Oregon, home. Diana loves to hear from her readers. She can be reached via e-mail at [email protected] or snail mail at P.O. Box 33193, Portland, OR 97292-3193.
For Berny. Who shanghaied me on a wild and crazy adventure—the best time of my life. Thanks, kiddo. Your unshakable faith dared me to dream.
For Darol, Danielle and Natalie. Who ate canned, frozen and takeout until it came out their ears, and went without clean socks and sometimes my time and attention—with nary a complaint. Thanks, gang.
Your love and support enabled me to pursue the dream.
For Cindy and Deb. Who dried my tears, cheered every small step—and, when necessary, kicked my fanny.
Thanks, sistas. Without your encouragement, there would be no books. You made the dream a reality.
I love you all.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 1
“You have stolen my heart with just one glance of your eyes.”
—The Song of Songs
“Another bad omen. You have to call off the wedding!”
Tessa Beaumont glanced up from her desk in alarm as her best friend and maid of honor, Melody Parrish, stormed into Tessa’s office at Oregon Pacific Bank, a large garment bag flung over one shoulder. Tessa’s stomach pitched. What now? “Mel? What’s wrong?”
Her sapphire eyes snapping, Melody shoved the door closed with her foot. “Every time you progress with your wedding plans, something terrible happens. A freak fungus down south wiped out the orchid farm. Your photographer slipped on a stray gefilte fish at a bar mitzvah and broke his arm. The caterer went belly-up after food poisoning flattened three hundred gastroenterologists at a hospital benefit.”
“Coincidences,” Tessa soothed, setting her paperwork aside in a neat pile. “Stuff happens. And we found replacements.”
Melody thrust the garment bag under Tessa’s nose. “You think so? Well, maybe this will convince you.”
Tessa glanced at the clock. It was after 1:00 p.m. They’d been two tellers short all week, and she hadn’t taken a break or even lunch in days. She rose and circled the desk. “Ten minutes, then I have to get back to work.”
Mel unzipped the bag. With a flourish, she whipped out two dresses and hung them on the brass coat rack beside the door. “I hope you haven’t eaten.”
Tessa’s jaw dropped. Speechless, she stared at the ugliest ruffled white monstrosity she’d ever seen, accompanied by a hideous bluish-purple bridesmaid’s dress. “Wha—what’s that?”
“Lucille changed your order. Imagine my surprise when I picked up our dresses today.”
“Oh, no!” Tessa hurried over to finger one of the hundreds of flounced organza ruffles on the horrible bridal gown. “I’ll look like a refugee from Gone With The Wind. A hoop skirt, for Pete’s sake. One misstep, and I’d give a whole new meaning to the term flash photography.”
“Not if you were Little Bo Peep.” Mel snickered. “At least your fashion holocaust is white. My ‘elegant eggplant’ number looks like a black eye. What was Lady Stalin thinking?”
“I don’t know, but she went too far this time.” With quick, efficient movements, Tessa zipped the awful dresses back into the bag. “These are going right back. I jumped at Lucille’s offer to help with the wedding because my mother couldn’t care less. But I refuse to let her bulldoze me.”
“Yeah. Your future mother-in-law has the personality of a Zamboni.”
“Well