Diana Palmer Collected 1-6: Soldier of Fortune / Tender Stranger / Enamored / Mystery Man / Rawhide and Lace / Unlikely Lover
DIANA PALMER COLLECTED BOOKS 1-6New York Times bestselling author Diana Palmer brings you six dangerous, ruthless men - and the women who can tame them…SOLDIER OF FORTUNETop Chicago lawyer JD Brettman’s sister has been kidnapped and taken to Central America. Now, beautiful Gabby Darwin is the only one he can trust in the lawless tropical forests…TENDER STRANGEREric Van Meer was a mercenary – a hard man and sceptical of strangers. Which was why warm, caring bookshop owner Dani St. Clair intrigued him so…ENAMOREDA moment of passion between trained soldier Diego Laremos and sweet neighbour Melissa Sterling forced a hasty marriage, but a tragic accident soon severed their ties!MYSTERY MANCanton Rourke had come to Mexico with his daughter to relax, not catch bandits, track kidnappers and save Janine Curtis from any mess she landed herself in!RAWHIDE AND LACEWhen Erin Scott left Ty Wade, she'd vowed never to return- yet the future of the Staghorn Ranch depended on it. But how could she face the man she hated most?UNLIKELY LOVEROilman Ward Jessup and Mari Raymond had been tricked by Mari’s wily aunt into living together – but it didn't look as though either of them was going to fight the power of Cupid's arrow…
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DIANA PALMER
The prolific author of more than one hundred books, Diana Palmer got her start as a newspaper reporter. A multi–NewYork Times bestselling author and one of the top ten romance writers in America, she has a gift for telling the most sensual tales with charm and humor. Diana lives with her family in Cornelia, Georgia.
Visit her website at www.DianaPalmer.com.
Diana Palmer Collected 1-6
Soldier of Fortune
The Tender Stranger
Enamored
Mystery Man
Rawhide and Lace
Unlikely Lover
Diana Palmer
Table of Contents
Diana Palmer
For R.D.M., and Irene, my lovely mother-in-law
I really can’t express how flattered I am and also how grateful I am to Mills & Boon Books for releasing this collection of my published works. It came as a great surprise. I never think of myself as writing books that are collectible. In fact, there are days when I forget that writing is work at all. What I do for a living is so much fun that it never seems like a job. And since I reside in a small community, and my daily life is confined to such mundane things as feeding the wild birds and looking after my herb patch in the backyard, I feel rather unconnected from what many would think of as a glamorous profession.
But when I read my email, or when I get letters from readers, or when I go on signing trips to bookstores to meet all of you, I feel truly blessed. Over the past thirty years, I have made lasting friendships with many of you. And quite frankly, most of you are like part of my family. You can’t imagine how much you enrich my life. Thank you so much.
I also need to extend thanks to my family (my husband, James, son, Blayne, daughter-in-law, Christina, and granddaughter, Selena Marie), to my best friend, Ann, to my readers, booksellers and the wonderful people at Mills & Boon Books—from my editor of many years, Tara, to all the other fine and talented people who make up our publishing house. Thanks to all of you for making this job and my private life so worth living.
Thank you for this tribute, Mills & Boon, and for putting up with me for thirty long years! Love to all of you.
Diana Palmer
Gabby was worried about J.D. It wasn’t anything she could put her finger on exactly. He still roared around the office, slamming things down on his desk when he couldn’t find notes or reminders he’d scribbled on envelopes or old business cards. He glared at Gabby when she didn’t bring his coffee on the stroke of nine o’clock. And there were the usual missing files, for which she was to blame of course, and the incessant phone calls that interrupted his concentration. There was still the heavy scowl on his broad face, and the angry glitter in his brown eyes. But that morning he’d been pacing around outside his office, smoking like a furnace. And that was unusual. Because J.D. had given up smoking years before, even before she had come to work for the law firm of Brettman and Dice.
She still couldn’t figure out what had set him off. She’d put a long-distance call through to him earlier, one that sounded like it came from overseas. The caller had sounded suspiciously like Roberto, his sister Martina’s husband, from Sicily. Soon afterward, there had been a flurry of outgoing calls. Now it was silent, except for the soft sounds the computer made as Gabby finished the last letter J.D. had dictated.
She propped her chin on her hands and stared at the door with curious green eyes. Her long, dark hair was piled high on her head, to keep it out of her way when she worked, and loose strands of it curled softly around her face, giving her an even more elfin look than usual. She was wearing a green dress that flattered her graceful curves. But J.D. wouldn’t notice her if she walked through the office naked. He’d said when he hired her that he’d robbed the cradle. And he hadn’t smiled when he said it. Although she was twenty-three now, he still made the most frustrating remarks about her extreme youth. She wondered wickedly what J.D. would say if she applied for Medicare in his name. Nobody knew how old he was. Probably somewhere around forty; those hard lines in his face hadn’t come from nowhere.
