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It had been so long since she’d felt safe, even longer since she’d felt desire.
What was she thinking? How could she be doing this? Making love with a stranger!
Gasping, Melanie pulled away, tugged her robe tightly around her and eased away from Gabriel. His eyes were glazed and confused as he looked at her.
“I—I’m sorry. That was my fault.”
Melanie rose from the sofa on wobbly knees. “You have to promise that it won’t happen again. If it does, I’ll leave.”
Gabriel opened his mouth, but she shook her head. “Promise me.”
Eyes narrowed, he pressed his lips tightly together. “Fine.”
She relaxed then, drew a deep breath and turned to leave the room.
“Melanie.”
She hesitated at the base of the stairs and looked over her shoulder.
“I lied.” He stared at her, the light of the fire dancing in his dark eyes. “I’m not sorry about kissing you.”
Dear Reader,
What is there to say besides, “The wait is over!” Yes, it’s true. Chance Mackenzie’s story is here at last. A Game of Chance, by inimitable New York Times bestselling author Linda Howard, is everything you’ve ever dreamed it could be: exciting, suspenseful, and so darn sexy you’re going to need to turn the air-conditioning down a few more notches! In Sunny Miller, Chance meets his match—in every way. Don’t miss a single fabulous page.
The twentieth-anniversary thrills don’t end there, though. A YEAR OF LOVING DANGEROUSLY continues with Undercover Bride, by Kylie Brant. This book is proof that things aren’t always what they seem, because Rachel’s groom, Caleb Carpenter, has secrets…secrets that could break—or win—her heart. Blade’s Lady, by Fiona Brand, features another of her to-die-for heroes, and a heroine who’s known him—in her dreams—for years. Linda Howard calls this author “a keeper,” and she’s right. Barbara McCauley’s SECRETS! miniseries has been incredibly popular in Silhouette Desire, and now it moves over to Intimate Moments with Gabriel’s Honor, about a heroine on the run with her son and the irresistible man who becomes her protector. Pat Warren is back with The Lawman and the Lady, full of suspense and emotion in just the right proportions. Finally, Leann Harris returns with Shotgun Bride, about a pregnant heroine forced to seek safety—and marriage—with the father of her unborn child.
And as if all that isn’t enough, come back next month for more excitement—including the next installment of A YEAR OF LOVING DANGEROUSLY and the in-line return of our wonderful continuity, 36 HOURS.
Leslie J. Wainger
Executive Senior Editor
Gabriel’s Honor
Barbara McCauley
To my husband, Frank—I love you.
BARBARA MCCAULEY
was born and raised in California and has spent a good portion of her life exploring the mountains, beaches and deserts so abundant there. The youngest of five children, she grew up in a small house, and her only chance for a moment alone was to sneak into the backyard with a book and quietly hide away.
With two children of her own now and a busy household, she still finds herself slipping away to enjoy a good novel. A daydreamer and incurable romantic, she says writing has fulfilled her most incredible dream of all—breathing life into the people in her mind and making them real. She has one loud and demanding Amazon parrot named Fred and a German shepherd named Max. When she can manage the time, she loves to sink her hands into fresh-turned soil and make things grow.
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 1
The Victorian farmhouse sat quietly in the darkness at the end of the quarter-mile-long gravel driveway. The house was two-story, Cape Cod blue, though the clapboard siding hadn’t seen the wet end of a paint-brush for at least twenty years. A chill touched the night air like an icy hand; light from a half-moon shone down on the roof, which was missing more shingles than a professional hockey team was missing front teeth. The porch steps were a broken leg waiting to happen, and tall, spiky weeds choked what might have once been daisies in the dried-up front flower bed.
Gabriel Sinclair stood on the porch of the old house and frowned at the locked front door. It had been a long time since he’d broken into a house. Fifteen years, to be exact. He’d been twenty years old at the time, on a clandestine mission with his three younger brothers. Gabe had been appointed lookout while Callan waited in the getaway truck; Reese, the youngest at fifteen, found the open window, and Lucian, the most daring Sinclair—and only seventeen at the time—slipped inside Lucy Greenwood’s bedroom window and snatched a pair of her hot pink satin underwear.
By the end of that night, all eight Bloomfield County High School cheerleaders had found themselves minus one pair of panties. The Sinclair brothers were brought into the sheriff’s station and questioned, but later released due to lack of evidence. There’d been no proof, but everyone in town knew that the Sinclair boys were to blame. Who else would have even attempted—let alone pulled off—such a nefarious plan?
He smiled. Those were the days.
Gabe’s smile slowly faded as he remembered the lecture that his parents had given all four of their sons that night. What he wouldn’t give to hear one of those lectures now, Gabe thought. To see his father grim-faced and stern, dragging his callused carpenter’s hand through his coal-black hair while he paced back and forth in front of his sons, and his mother standing quietly by, shaking her pretty blond head.
Damn, but he missed them. Missed his mother’s soft laugh and her warm chocolate-chip cookies. Missed his father’s quiet nod of approval for a job well-done, hot Sunday afternoons and a family game of horseshoes in the backyard.
With a heavy sigh, Gabe turned his attention back to the problem at hand: finding a way into the house.
He jiggled the tarnished brass front doorknob one more time, but it was definitely locked tight and dead bolted. He let the rusted screen door squeak loudly shut, then moved to the front windows. They were latched, as well.
Damn.
I’ll leave the front door open, his sister, Cara, had told him earlier. If you can work up a rough list of necessary repairs and meet me at the tavern tonight, I’ll make dinner next Sunday, your choice.
Since most of Gabe’s bachelor-pad dinners were takeout, microwaved or sandwiches from his brother Reese’s tavern in town, the idea of a home-cooked meal was entirely too tempting to pass up. His mouth was already watering from the menu he’d picked out: A big, juicy roast, fluffy mashed potatoes smothered in butter and hot gravy, melt-in-your-mouth biscuits like their mom used to make every Sunday. And then Cara’s supreme specialty—apple pie.
Inspired by the image of food, Gabe hurried around to the back of the house, made a mental note to check the overhead door on