Tender Stranger
She'd met Eric Van Meer entirely by chance during an unforgettable vacation in Mexico, and with reckless abandon, she'd agreed to marry the mysterious blond stranger. Dani St.Clair, prim southern bookseller, had experienced a passion that exceeded even those in her cherished romantic novels–until a hijacked plane and a daring rescue by Eric revealed his true nature and dangerous work.He said he needed freedom, yet he'd married her. He said he hated women, yet he tenderly conquered her heart. Was it possible to meet a soldier of fortune on the battleground of passion and win the war of love?
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New York Times and USA TODAY Bestselling Author
Diana Palmer
To J.A. with thanks.
Dear Reader,
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
New York Times and USA TODAY Bestselling Author
Diana Palmer
The Essential Collection
Long, Tall Texans…and More!
AVAILABLE FEBRUARY 2011
Calhoun
Tyler
Ethan
Connal
Harden
Evan
AVAILABLE MARCH 2011
Donavan
Emmett
Regan’s Pride
That Burke Man
Circle of Gold
Cattleman’s Pride
AVAILABLE APRIL 2011
The Princess Bride
Coltrain’s Proposal
A Man of Means
Lionhearted
Maggie’s Dad
Rage of Passion
AVAILABLE MAY 2011
Lacy
Beloved
Love with a Long, Tall Texan
(containing “Guy,” “Luke” and “Christopher”)
Heart of Ice
Noelle
Fit for a King
The Rawhide Man
AVAILABLE JUNE 2011
A Long, Tall Texan Summer
(containing “Tom,” “Drew” and “Jobe”)
Nora
Dream’s End
Champagne Girl
Friends and Lovers
The Wedding in White
AVAILABLE JULY 2011
Heather’s Song
Snow Kisses
To Love and Cherish
Long, Tall and Tempted
(containing “Redbird,” “Paper Husband” and “Christmas Cowboy”)
The Australian
Darling Enemy
Trilby
AVAILABLE AUGUST 2011
Sweet Enemy
Soldier of Fortune
The Tender Stranger
Enamored
After the Music
The Patient Nurse
AVAILABLE SEPTEMBER 2011
The Case of the Mesmerizing Boss
The Case of the Confirmed Bachelor
The Case of the Missing Secretary
September Morning
Diamond Girl
Eye of the Tiger
Table of Contents
Chapter One
The seat was much too low for his tall frame; he had barely enough room without the paraphernalia his companion was shifting in her own seat. He gave her a short glare through deep brown eyes. She flushed, her gaze dropping to her lap as she tucked her huge purse on the other side of her and struggled with her seat belt.
He sighed, watching her. A spinster, he thought unkindly. From her flyaway brown hair to the eyes under those wire-rimmed glasses, from her bulky white sweater down to her long gray skirt and sensible gray shoes, she was definitely someone’s unclaimed treasure. He turned his eyes back to the too-narrow aisle. Damn budget airlines, he thought furiously. If he hadn’t missed the flight he’d booked, he wouldn’t be trying to fit into this sardine can of a seat. Next to Miss Frump here.
He didn’t like women. Never less than now, when he was forced to endure this particular woman’s company for several hundred miles from San Antonio down to Veracruz, Mexico. He glanced sideways again irritably. She was shifting books now. Books, for God’s sake! Didn’t she know what the baggage hold was for?
“You should have reserved a seat for them,” he muttered, glaring at a stack of what was obviously romance novels.
She swallowed, a little intimidated as her eyes swept over a muscular physique, blond hair and a face that looked positively hostile. He had nice hands, though. Very lean and tanned and strong-looking. Scars on the back of one of them…
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, avoiding his eyes. “I’ve just come from a romance writer’s autographing in San Antonio. These—these are autographed copies I’m taking back for friends after my Mexican holiday, and I was afraid to trust them to the luggage compartment.”
“Priceless gems?” he asked humorlessly, giving them a speaking glare as she tucked the sackful under her seat.
“To some people, yes,” she acknowledged. Her face tautened and she didn’t look at him again. She cast nervous glances out the window while the airplane began to hum and the flight crew began once more the tedious demonstration of the safety equipment. He sighed impatiently and folded his arms across his broad chest, over the rumpled khaki shirt he wore. He leaned his head back, staring blankly at the stewardess. She was a beauty, but he wasn’t interested. He hadn’t been interested in women for quite a few years, except to satisfy an infrequent need. He laughed shortly, glancing at the prim little woman next to him. He wondered if she knew anything about those infrequent needs, and decided that she didn’t. She looked as chaste as a nun, with her nervous eyes and hands. She had nice hands, though, he thought, pursing his lips as he studied them. Long fingers, very graceful, and no polish. They were the hands of a lady.
