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Taking both her hands in his, Matt looked into her eyes.
“Jane, nothing that you discover about the person you were in the past will change the person you’ve created. The person I’ve come to—”
Matt stopped speaking. Had he been about to tell Jane that he loved her?
He was aware of Jane’s slender hands in his, her eyes gazing up at him, still glistening with unshed tears. His arms ached with the urge to pull her to him, to cradle her against his chest; his lips longed to feel hers beneath them. But that wasn’t love. It was desire. It was a need to connect that went so deep, it burned the pit of his stomach. Love existed for other people….
But not for him.
Dear Reader,
While taking a breather from decorating and gift-wrapping, check out this month’s exciting treats from Silhouette Special Edition. The Summer House (#1510) contains two fabulous stories in one neat package. “Marrying Mandy” by veteran author Susan Mallery features the reunion of two sweethearts who fall in love all over again. Joining Susan is fellow romance writer Teresa Southwick whose story “Courting Cassandra” shows how an old crush blossoms into full-blown love.
In Joan Elliott Pickart’s Tall, Dark and Irresistible (#1507), a hero comes to terms with his heritage and meets a special woman who opens his heart to the possibilities. Award-winning author Anne McAllister gets us in the holiday spirit with The Cowboy’s Christmas Miracle (#1508) in which a lone-wolf cowboy finds out he’s a dad to an adorable little boy, then realizes the woman who’d always been his “best buddy” now makes his heart race at top speed! And count on Christine Rimmer for another page-turner in Scrooge and the Single Girl (#1509). This heart-thumping romance features an anti-Santa hero and an independent heroine, both resigned to singlehood and stranded in a tiny little mountain cabin where they’ll have a holiday they’ll never forget!
Judy Duarte returns to the line-up with Family Practice (#1511), a darling tale of a handsome doctor who picks up the pieces after a bitter divorce and during a much-needed vacation falls in love with a hardworking heroine and her two kids. In Elane Osborn’s A Season To Believe (#1512), a woman survives a car crash but wakes up with amnesia. When a handsome private detective takes her plight to heart, she finds more than one reason to be thankful.
As you can see, we have an abundance of rich and emotionally complex love stories to share with you. I wish you happiness, fun and a little romance this holiday season!
Karen Taylor Richman
Senior Editor
A Season to Believe
Elane Osborn
To Dar: For housing me and for your company on so many of
my research trips, but most of all for your support and
friendship on this trip called Life.
And to Dad: For everything you shared with me, from creating
a window display to potato stamping, but especially for your
encouragement and for teaching me that the worst four-letter
S-word is, “can’t.” I miss you.
ELANE OSBORN
is a daydream believer whose active imagination tends to intrude on her life at the most inopportune moments. Her penchant for slipping into “alternative reality” severely hampered her work life, leading to a gamut of jobs that includes, but is not limited to: airline reservation agent, waitress, salesgirl and seamstress in the wardrobe department of a casino showroom. In writing, she has discovered a career that not only does not punish flights of fancy, it demands them. Drawing on her daydreams, she has published three historical romance novels and is now using the experiences she has collected in her many varied jobs in the “real world” to fuel contemporary stories that blend romance and suspense.
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 One
“Silver bells…”
The first strains of the Christmas song brought an instant frown to the woman standing at the glass counter. She stared blankly at the burgundy-and-tan scarf draped across the palm of her hand as she heard “It’s Christmas time…”
Hot, unreasoning anger sent blood pounding through her ears, drowning out the rest of the tune. Her fingers crushed the silk scarf as she turned toward the figure on the other side of the counter.
“Don’t you think this is just a little ridiculous?”
The salesperson, a girl in her late teens with short, tousled red hair, jumped and turned from the display of necklaces she was straightening.
“I’m sorry.” She blinked. “Are you, um, having a problem finding what you want?”
“What I want is to shop in peace, without being assaulted by shamelessly blatant attempts to whip the public into a seasonal buying frenzy at such an absurdly early date.”
The girl responded with a blank stare.
The woman’s fingers tightened. “I don’t suppose that you could do anything about changing the piped-in music?”
A tiny frown appeared over the girl’s blue eyes. “Um, I’m sorry, no. But…” She paused, then flashed an overly bright smile as she went on. “You know, sometimes all the crowds and the music and the hustle-bustle of shopping can really be wearing. Have you thought about taking a break in our food court? A cup of eggnog-flavored coffee and a peppermint cookie might put you right back into the spirit.”
Back in the spirit? Was this young woman nuts?
“I doubt that would work. I detest eggnog, for one thing.” An involuntary shudder ripped through the woman. “And even if I did like the vile stuff, I certainly wouldn’t consider drinking it in May.”
“M-May?” The salesclerk took a deep breath and raised her chin. “Um, ma’am? It’s November. November twenty-ninth. The day after Thanksgiving.” The girl frowned again, then went on. “Um, you know, I could call someone from Security and…”
The woman willed the girl’s next words to dull to an unintelligible hum. Obviously the young lady was unbalanced. There was no way it could be November. Only yesterday, the woman thought, she had been watching waves crash onto the shore and thinking how unusually warm it was for May.
“Silver bells…”
The refrain intruded. The woman glanced toward a wide bank of glass to her right. Sunlight streamed in. The bit of sky she could see was clear blue. However,