âI keep telling myself that itâs over, that Iâm safe. But Iâm so afraid.â
âWhat happened after he hit you?â Rafe asked.
Allie shook her head. âI donât know. I donât remember anything after that until I woke up on the kitchen floor. He had plenty of time to kill me, too.â She lifted her gaze to meet Rafeâs. âI donât know why Iâm still alive.â
Rafeâs mouth tightened. âThe fact you are tells me he knew for sure you didnât get a look at him.â
âWhich is fortunate for me. Not for your client if heâs innocent.â
Rafe stared at her.
Seven years ago, she hadnât known Rafe all that well. Still, Allie had been well aware that there had been something about Rafe Diaz, and it wasnât only his dark, go-to-hell looks. Heâd exuded some sort of innate, brooding sexiness that seemed to promise endless nights of pleasure. Watching him now, she realized that hadnât changed.
Dear Reader,
Reconciliation. I have a soft spot for a story that brings characters back to someone they loved and lost. So, I thought, what about writing a connected trilogy of books about three couples with shared pasts? Stories where passion is intensified by memory and by deferred longing. And where better for lovers to come together again than in Reunion Square, an almost mystical enclave of quaint shops and businesses?
Three women. Three men from their pasts. Three different journeys that take us to the âever afterâ part of love that was destined to be.
In the third of these books, lingerie shop owner Allie Fielding stumbles over the murdered body of a customer. To add to her shock, the private investigator who shows up to interview her is the man she helped send to prison. Hired by the slain womanâs accused lover, exonerated P.I. Rafe Diaz believes his client is innocent. And though dealing with the woman whose testimony put him behind bars stirs up a past Rafe thought heâd dealt with long ago, it also unlocks a passion neither of them expected.
Suspensefully,
Maggie Price
Before embarking on a writing career, Maggie Price took a walk on the wild side and associated with people who carry guns. Fortunately they were cops, and Maggieâs career as a crime analyst with the Oklahoma City Police Department has given her the background needed to write true-to-life police procedural romances which have won numerous accolades, including a nomination for the coveted RITA® Award.
Maggie is a recipient of a Golden Heart Award, a Career Achievement Award from Romantic Times BOOKreviews, a National Readerâs Choice Award, and a Booksellerâs Best Award, all in series romantic suspense. Readers are invited to contact Maggie at 416 N.W. 8th St., Oklahoma City, OK 73102-2604. Or on the Web at www.MaggiePrice.com.
For my girls, Roxie and Lexie.
Thank you for all the joy you add to my life.
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue
Annoyed, exhausted, Allie Fielding whipped her Jaguar into the driveway of the two-story condo in one of Oklahoma Cityâs poshest neighborhoods. The dinner meeting sheâd attended with board members of the investment empire sheâd inherited had run late. She could have headed home after that, if only Mercedes McKenzie had shown up as scheduled when Allie closed her shop before the meeting.
I should have gone home, Allie thought as she studied the condo. She frowned when she found herself comparing its dark windows to sightless eyes. In reality, she knew that going home hadnât been an option. Not while she still had the hot pink garment bag that held the silk robe, red beaded bustier and two come-and-get-me sexy lace teddies sheâd designed. The order had been rushed due to Mercedesâs needing the lingerie before she and her lover left for Paris at midnight. Allie felt certain if she didnât drop off the items now, the long-legged redhead with a practiced pout would call, claiming some catastrophe had prevented her from showing up at Silk & Secrets, and from returning Allieâs phone calls. Then she would wheedle Allie into making a delivery to the airport.
âNo problem,â Allie muttered. She was determined to prove herself in a career that had no ties to the Fielding empire her father had amassed. Some people might think Franklin Fielding had willed his fortune to his sole biological child out of love. Allie knew better. The idea of his money falling into the hands of someone with no Fielding blood coursing through their veins would have struck him as even more reprehensible than leaving it to the daughter heâd never wanted and had shunned.
As for the empire, her fatherâs name was the one investors, board members and bankers related to, and his was the one they trusted. So she used itâgrudgingly. Her own business, however, was her baby. Sheâd put all of her skill and experience and creativity into building it from the ground up. She would tend and nurtureâand, yes, deliver items to the recalcitrant mistress of some wealthy man willing to buy her drawers full of lingerie.