Stranger In His Bed
She felt no hesitation. She was his.Victoria Masters remembers nothing after the accident that stole her past.Now she’s living in a billionaire’s palatial home and finding the sensual stranger impossible to resist. But why is Wade’s holding back?
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She felt no hesitation... She was his.
âIâm your husband.â
Victoria Masters remembers nothing after the accident that stole her past, not even her name. Now sheâs living in a billionaire rancherâs palatial home and finding this sensual stranger impossible to resist. He says heâs her husband, but why does she get the sense heâs holding back? As powerful desire leads her into Wadeâs bed, a surprise sheâll never forget is in store...
When LAUREN CANAN began writing, stories of romance and unbridled passion flowed through her fingers onto the page. Today she is a multi-award-winning author, including the prestigious Romance Writers of America Golden Heart® Award. She lives in Texas with her own real-life hero, two crazy dogs and a mouthy parrot named Bird. Find her on Facebook or visit her website, laurencanan.com.
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Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk
ISBN: 978-1-474-07674-6
STRANGER IN HIS BED
© 2018 Sarah Cannon
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a âLicensed Deviceâ) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ⢠are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
This book is dedicated to Terry:
the one who keeps me going. I couldnât write
without your inspiration and encouragement.
And to Kathy Douglass,
the best critique partner you could ever hope for.
Thank you for all youâve done for me!
And many thanks to my editor,
Charles Griemsman. Bless you for your brilliant
guidance and for having the patience of a saint.
Contents
âI think sheâs awake.â
As her vision cleared, the most beautiful pair of eyes sheâd ever seen came into focus. They were a vibrant brown with so many flecks of gold they appeared to gleam. Framed by dark lashes, they were strong, compelling, and she couldnât look away. She didnât want to look away. It was as though they offered a lifeline and she desperately held on.
Her gaze widened to take in the rest of this manâs face. The sharp angles and high cheekbones. The full, sensuous lips, drawn into a straight line, surrounded by a dark bearded shadow. His thick, tobacco-brown hair gleamed golden where the fluorescent lights touched it.
A second man in a white lab coat stepped into her field of vision on the opposite side of the bed.
âIâm Dr. Meadows, your neurologist.â He spoke softly, clearly. Something she was grateful for.
The glaring white lights overhead burned with the same intensity as the sun. The pounding in her head became more pronounced, almost overwhelming, throbbing in time with her heartbeat.
âYou were involved in an automobile accident two days ago. You had some injuries. Most were minor, but you did sustain a fairly bad concussion.â
The doctor withdrew a pencil-sized flashlight from the pocket of his lab coat and pointed the light quickly into one eye, then the other. She couldnât help flinching as the beam touched her eyes. He returned the light to his pocket and flipped open a chart. After sifting through an array of pastel-colored pages, he made a notation on one of them before closing the folder.
âCan you tell me your name?â
