A FORMER SOLDIER IS REUNITED WITH THE WOMAN HE LOVEDâAND THE SON WHO MAY HAVE WITNESSED FAR TOO MUCHâ¦
Four years in an Afghan prison couldnât erase beautiful Devon Reese from Kieran OâRoarkeâs damaged memory. So when they are reunited on a beach back in Coral Cove and she begs for help, the wounded hero doesnât hesitate. He just responds. And when he learns Devonâs little boyâa son he hadnât known existedâmay have witnessed a brutal murder, the seasoned warrior refuses to let Devon live in fear. Struggling to recall the intimacies they once shared, Kieran is desperate to keep his new family from becoming a killerâs latest victims. He lost them onceâhe wonât lose them again. Even if he has to die fighting.
âI donât know who you are.â
Her face crumpled and she looked ready to pitch forward.
He had to do better than that. He dragged his hands out of his pockets and held them out in supplication.
âI have some memory, but some things... I know youââ he clenched his fist and pounded it against his chest ââhere, but I donât know who you are. I donât know your name.â
Silent tears dripped from her eyes. Wiping her hand across her nose, she drew in a shuddering breath. âIâm Devon. Devon Reese. Iâm your... We were engaged.â
Kieran squeezed his good eye closed and whispered her name. âDevon. Devon.â
Yes, the name filled him with warmth and longing, those feelings belonging to his hazy past. They had been engaged. A woman like Devon, filled with golden light and promise, would never want a damaged man like him.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Carol Ericson lives with her husband and two sons in Southern California, home of state-of-the-art cosmetic surgery, wild freeway chases, palm trees bending in the Santa Ana winds and a million amazing stories. These stories, along with hordes of virile men and feisty women, clamor for release from Carolâs head. It makes for some interesting headaches until she sets them free to fulfill their destinies and her readersâ fantasies. To find out more about Carol, her books and her strange headaches, please visit her website, www.carolericson.com , âwhere romance flirts with danger.â
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Kieran RoarkeâA former prisoner of war, damaged and alone, heâs compelled to return to Coral Cove and the woman who got him through his imprisonment, even if he canât remember her name. Once he meets her, and the son he hadnât known about, heâll do anything to protect themâeven employ the brutal skills that have no place in civilized society.
Devon ReeseâShe returns to her hometown for peace and quiet when a neighbor is murdered and her son withdraws after the crime. But the killer follows her, suspecting sheâs an eyewitness, and she must turn to the man sheâd written off as dead, whoâs now a stranger, to protect her and their son.
Michael RoarkeâThe murder of his grandmotherly neighbor sends the little boy into a private world of fear. What heâs not telling his mother might end up getting them both killed.
Mrs. Del VecchioâThis quirky senior citizen had a special relationship with Michael Roarke, but her murder winds up putting the boy in danger.
Johnny DelâMrs. Del Vecchioâs dead husband was the leader of a gang of bank robbers. Does his criminal past cast a long shadow over the present?
Dr. Elena EstradaâThis psychiatrist tries to help Michael come out of his shell...and puts herself in danger for her efforts.
Sam FrostâDr. Estradaâs new boyfriend is friendly and helpful, but what does she really know about his past?
Bud âThe Pelicanâ PelicanoâOne of Johnny Delâs old cohorts, he died in prison, but may have lived long enough to pass off the secrets of his criminal past to his son.
Mayor Tyler DavisâHeâs all about projecting a pristine image of Coral Cove to attract tourists, and he doesnât appreciate the fact that big-city crime has followed Devon to his town. How far will he go to get her to leave?
Chapter One
Devon Reese stopped dead in her tracks. She balanced the laundry basket on her hip and tilted her head, listening for a second thump from downstairs. Either Mrs. Del Vecchio had just knocked something over or the eighty-year-old widow had taken up aerobics.
Hearing only street noises from her North Beach neighborhood in San Francisco wafting through the open window, Devon hitched up the basket and pushed the bathroom door wide. She plucked her towel from the rack and swept up Michaelâs towel from the floor. She tossed a few washcloths into the basket and then gripped the handles.
She tiptoed past the closed door of Michaelâs room where he was napping, and padded into the kitchen on bare feet. Crouching down, she grabbed a bottle of detergent from under the sink and then dumped some quarters into her palm. Devon dreaded laundry day, especially since she had to haul down to the ground floor for the laundry room.