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Mystery Bride. B.J. DanielsЧитать онлайн книгу.

Mystery Bride - B.J. Daniels


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      “You must think I’m not much of a private investigator,” Samantha said.

      Will shook his head and smiled. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. You were just outnumbered. In a fair fight, I’d put my money on you any time, Sam.”

      He cupped her face with his hand. The strong, capable hand of a man who worked for his living. She covered his hand with her own.

      “You sure you’ll be all right in here by yourself?” Will asked her, his blue eyes dark with obvious desire. “I could wash your back.”

      Samantha swallowed, consumed with the thought of the two of them in the tub. The temptation was almost too much.

      From the doorway behind them came the sounds of the little boy in the next room.

      “You better see to Zack.”

      He nodded and smiled. “Maybe another time,” he whispered.

      She’d underestimated this man, Samantha thought. Just as she’d underestimated how dangerous this case was. She wouldn’t make either mistake again….

      Mystery Bride

      B.J. Daniels

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      Born in Houston, B.J. Daniels is a former Southern girl who grew up on the smell of gulf sea air and Southern cooking. But like her characters, her home is now in Montana, not far from Big Sky, where she snowboards in the winters and boats in the summers with her husband and daughters. She does miss gumbo and Texas Barbecue, though! Her first Harlequin Intrigue novel was nominated for the Romantic Times Reviewer’s Choice Award for best first book and best Harlequin Intrigue. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, Heart of Montana and Bozeman Writers group. B.J. loves to hear from readers. Write to her at P.O. Box 183, Bozeman, MT 59771.

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      CAST OF CHARACTERS

      Will Sheridan—He knows exactly what he wants in a bride. But some women, he discovers, can be murder.

      Samantha Murphy—The private investigator has dreamed of a man just like Will Sheridan—but he is the last thing she needs on this case.

      Lucas O’Brien—Is the computer game designer just being paranoid or is someone really out to get him?

      Zack O’Brien—Everyone suddenly wants the five-year-old son of the game designer a little too desperately.

      Cassie Clark O’Brien—The first ex-wife has a killer of a secret she must keep.

      Mercedes Palmer O’Brien—The second ex-wife isn’t one to carry a grudge. She gets even.

      Al the Ox—The former wrestler turned kidnapper is just following orders. But whose orders?

      Bradley Guess—Does the computer nerd really believe his partner has taken off with the missing game?

      Robert A. Walker—He is philosophical about his investments. He expects them to pay off.

      Eric Ross—Does he have reason to be afraid for his brother? Or is he playing a game of his own?

      Bebe, the computer game designer groupie—She seems to know a lot about the missing game and the missing designer.

      This one is for my first sister-in-law, Francis Demarais, of Malta, Montana, who taught me how to make bread and the best fudge in the world. You have been a constant in my life for many years now and one of its joys. Thanks for always keeping me a part of the family.

      Contents

      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

      Prologue

      Seattle, Washington

       Friday night

      Lucas heard the heavy tread of footsteps coming up the back stairs just as he finished burning the CD. In the dimly lit office, he popped the CD from the disk burner and grabbed one of the game boxes on his desk. Tossing the game’s CD into the trash, he put his disk inside and snapped the box shut.

      Hurriedly, he pried open the back of the computer and ripped out the memory board, smashing it on the floor with the sole of his shoe. Then he destroyed the CD burner and zip drive.

      Just a few more minutes. He thought of his son waiting for him nearby at a friend’s house and the train tickets he had bought for tonight. He heard a sound like a door closing somewhere in the office building.

      He snapped off the desk lamp and moved to the fifth-floor window. On the street below, he spotted a figure hunkered in the shadows near the front door of the building.

      He swore. Panicked, he picked up the stack of CDs he’d burned. Five total. Five pieces of a puzzle he’d spent his life dreaming of solving. And finally had.

      Another sound echoed up from the belly of the building.

      They’re coming. Destroy the CDs. Before it’s too late.

      But even as he thought it, he knew he couldn’t. Not just because of all the years of work that had gone into them—but because of his son. Lucas needed to leave something behind. So far, he’d just left a trail of mistakes.

      As he desperately looked around the office, he spotted the mail chute, and suddenly had an idea. Hurriedly, he scooped up the CDs and rushed into his outer office. Sitting down at the remaining intact computer, he typed out a note and made five copies of it.

      He stopped to listen, but heard nothing beyond the usual creaking and groaning of the old building. But he knew he was no longer alone.

      As quickly as he could, he addressed five envelopes, stamped them and began slipping the note and a CD into each.

      Just as he was about to put the last CD into the envelope addressed to one Samantha Murphy of Butte, Montana, he heard footfalls. The stairway door down the hall groaned open.

      But what stopped him dead was the sound of small feet running down the worn carpeting toward his office and a single cried word. “Daddy!”

      Oh, God. Zack.

      He dropped the final CD to the floor, his heart catching in his throat, as his five-year-old son came running into his office. With dark eyes wild with fear, Zack threw himself into his father’s arms.

      “Daddy, they made me get in the car. I didn’t want to. But I kicked the big guy and got away and ran—”

      “It’s okay, Zack,” he said, hugging his son. He could hear the sound of footsteps coming down the hall, slow and steady. They knew they had him trapped. They just didn’t realize how desperate he was.

      With Zack still in his arms, he ripped out the mother board from the last remaining computer in his office,


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