âWho hurt you, Claire?â
âOne of my patients got upset. Itâs nothing, Mark.â
âThe hell itâs not. A patient attacked you and you call it nothing?â
âHe reacted to a traumatic memory and I happened to get in the way. It goes with the territory.â She pulled away, but he caught her arm, refusing to let her run.
âHis name, Claire?â
She shook her head. âI canât tell you that, Mark.â
âCanât or wonât?â
âBoth. If I donât protect my patientsâ privacy, they wonât confide in me. Then Iâm useless.â
âAnd how helpful will you be to your patients if you end up dead?â
He wrapped his arms around her, determined to make her realize she might be in danger. âYou canât trust anyone, Claire. Not right now. Itâs too dangerous.â
âI know how dangerous trusting a man can be, Mark. After all, I once trusted you.â
Midnight Disclosures
Rita Herron
Award-winning author Rita Herron wrote her first book when she was twelve, but didnât think real people grew up to be writers. Now she writes so she doesnât have to get a real job. A former kindergarten teacher and workshop leader, she traded her storytelling for kids for romance, and writes romantic comedies and romantic suspense. She lives in Georgia with her own romance hero and three kids. She loves to hear from readers so please write her at P.O. Box 921225, Norcross, GA 30092-1225, or visit her Web site at www.ritaherron.com.
Dr. Claire KosâBlinded by the accident that cost her her child, Claire Kos has nothing to live for but work. Will that very job cost her her life?
Mark SteeleâA man struggling with guilt and loss. Can he save Claire before a ruthless serial killer makes her his next victim?
Special Agent Luke DevlinâAn FBI agent with demons of his own, he offers Mark a job when Mark has nothing left. But will that job be Markâs salvation or his downfall?
Dr. Ian HallâThe new director of the Coastal Island Research Park wants to create positive publicity for CIRP. But is his plan a smoke screen to hide secretive research under way at the center?
Dr. George Ferguson and Dr. Kurt LassiterâTwo of Claireâs co-workers who lust after her. Would one of them kill to have her?
Drew MyersâThe man who created the idea of the Calling Claire show. Just how far will he go to make the show a success?
Joel SangerâA psychotic patient of Claireâs with violent tendencies toward women. Has he become a serial killer?
Richard WheatonâAnother patient suffering from dissociative identity disorder. Is one of his personalities a murderer?
Al HoganâA troubled man who attended a support group with Claire months ago and tried to befriend her. Has he resurfaced?
To my cool aunt Neldaâ
who finally got hooked on romance! Love, Rita
Prologue
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
Epilogue
She had to tell Mark about the baby.
Claire Kos punched the accelerator, flipped on the windshield wipers and wove her way through the late-evening traffic. Mark couldnât leave on some dangerous mission without knowing she planned to accept his proposal, that sheâd be waiting for him when he returned.
She understood his need to serve his country. Heâd been raised by a military father, had grown up on a base himself. Heâd been born and bred for the armed services, a true hero. His reasons were all very noble.
And she knew she was being selfish. But what about her and their unborn child? What would happen to them if he didnât return?
Telling him wonât keep him from leaving.
She gripped the tiny silver frame sheâd bought as a going-away gift in her hand. He could take the frame with him, and if he couldnât make it back for the birth, sheâd mail him a photograph to put inside. That way she and their child would always be with him, wherever he went.
Thunder clapped in the gray sky, the rain rushing down in a torrent, the shadows of the night closing in around her. A hurricane warning had been issued on the coast of Florida, the torrential rains already unleashing themselves on Atlanta.
Reminding herself that she had another life to consider now, a baby to protect, she eased her foot off the accelerator, but another pair of headlights behind her, set on high beam, nearly blinded her. She blinked and righted the wheel to correct for the curve in the road, but a horn blared as an oncoming truck roared toward her. She skimmed the edge of the embankment, spotted the bridge ahead and panic slammed into her.
Behind her another car honked, speeding up on her tail. She skidded on the wet pavement, her Jetta hurling into a tailspin. The passenger side scraped the side rails of the bridge and sparks flew from the car as it careened down the riverbank, grinding over the muddy earth. Glass exploded as she nosedived into the Chattahoochee River.
The air bag exploded, trapping her against the seat. Spots danced before her eyes, and panic knifed through her arms as a stabbing pain shot through her temple.