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      He wanted to keep her safe.

      If he had the right, he would lock her up inside the house and not let her out until she came to her senses and quit this dangerous crusade of hers. Or until whoever was after her was safely behind bars. That made sense.

      What didn’t make sense was this absurd longing for her. And where had that insidious thought come from? That crazy idea that he might be falling in…

      Absolutely not!

      This was an affair. A casual affair. Okay,

       it was more than casual, but it wasn’t love.

      Couldn’t be, he thought uneasily.

      Shouldn’t be.

      Dear Reader,

      Happy (almost) New Year! The year is indeed ending, but here at Intimate Moments it’s going out with just the kind of bang you’d expect from a line where excitement is the order of the day. Maggie Shayne continues her newest miniseries, THE OKLAHOMA ALL-GIRL BRANDS, with Brand-New Heartache. This is prodigal daughter Edie’s story. She’s home from L.A. with a stalker on her trail, and only local one-time bad boy Wade Armstrong can keep her safe. Except for her heart, which is definitely at risk in his presence.

      Our wonderful FIRSTBORN SONS continuity concludes with Born Royal. This is a sheik story from Alexandra Sellers, who’s made quite a name for herself writing about desert heroes, and this book will show you why. It’s a terrific marriage-of-convenience story, and it’s also a springboard for our twelve-book ROMANCING THE CROWN continuity, which starts next month. Kylie Brant’s Hard To Resist is the next in her CHARMED AND DANGEROUS miniseries, and this steamy writer never disappoints with her tales of irresistible attraction. Honky-Tonk Cinderella is the second in Karen Templeton’s HOW TO MARRY A MONARCH miniseries, and it’s enough to make any woman want to run away and be a waitress, seeing as this waitress gets to serve a real live prince. Finish the month with Mary McBride’s newest, Baby, Baby, Baby, a “No way am I letting my ex-wife go to a sperm bank” book, and reader favorite Lorna Michaels’s first Intimate Moments novel, The Truth About Elyssa.

      See you again next year!

      Leslie J. Wainger

      Executive Senior Editor

      The Truth About Elyssa

      Lorna Michaels

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      LORNA MICHAELS

      When she was four years old, Lorna Michaels decided she would become a writer. But it wasn’t until she read her first romance that she found her niche. Since then she’s been a winner of numerous writing contests, was a double Romance Writers of America Golden Heart finalist and a nominee for the Romantic Times Magazine Love and Laughter Award. A self-confessed romantic, she loves to spend her evenings writing happily-everafter stories. During the day she’s a speech pathologist with a busy private practice. Though she leads a double life, both her careers focus on communication. As a speech pathologist, she works with children who have communication disorders. She writes about men and women who overcome barriers to communication as they forge lasting relationships.

      Besides working and writing, Lorna enjoys reading everything from cereal boxes to Greek tragedy, interacting with the two cats who own her, watching basketball games and traveling with her husband. This winter she’ll realize her dream of visiting Antarctica. Nothing thrills her more than hearing from readers. You can e-mail her at [email protected].

      To Linda Hayes

      with my thanks

      And a note of appreciation to my friend Barbara Rosenberg, who brightens lives through her clowning and who patiently answered my questions

      Contents

      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

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Epilogue

      Prologue

      Elyssa Jarmon glanced over her shoulder as her friend Randy Barber’s Toyota Camry maneuvered through the rain-slick streets of Indianapolis. He turned left, and the car behind them followed. The gleam of its headlights cut through the darkness.

      Elyssa chuckled. “I’ve been watching too many cop shows.”

      “One of the hazards of working in television,” Randy said. “If you’re not on-screen, you’re in front of it.”

      “I’m not kidding,” Elyssa continued. “I could swear someone’s tailing us.”

      Randy glanced at her sharply. “What makes you think so?”

      “The same car’s been behind us since we left the TV station. His right headlight’s flickering. I’m a good reporter. I notice things like that.”

      “Look back. Is it a black Chevy?”

      Alarmed, Elyssa stared at her friend. Was she imagining things, or had Randy turned pale? “What’s going on?”

      “Just check,” he snapped.

      Elyssa squinted through the back window. Rain fell harder now, impeding her view. “I…think so.” She turned back, then gasped as Randy suddenly swung into Eagle Creek Park.

      “Did he follow?”

      “No…yes. Here he comes.” She tightened her seat belt. “What’s going on, Randy?”

      “Damn,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have offered to drive you home. I don’t want you involved in this.”

      “Involved in what?” She looked behind them. The Chevy was close now, its lights filling the back window.

      “Investiga—”

      Metal clanged against metal as the Chevy slammed into their rear end. Their car skidded, spun in a circle.

      The Chevy hit them again. A scream tore from Elyssa’s throat as they hurtled down an embankment. They seemed to tumble endlessly—rolling, pitching from side to side—then suddenly, with a grinding thud, they stopped.

      Elyssa opened her eyes. She was still buckled into her seat, but her right arm hung at an angle, and her head felt as if she’d been kicked by a mule. “Randy,” she whispered. A thin stream dribbled out of her mouth. She licked her lip and tasted blood.

      “Here.” His voice was so faint, she could barely hear it over the sound of the storm. Fighting against pain, she turned her head. Randy lay against the door, crushed by the caved-in side of the car.

      Though her hands shook, Elyssa managed to unbuckle her seat belt. Forgetting her own pain, she crawled to Randy and touched his face. Her hand came away covered with blood. “You’re hurt,” she choked. “I’ll…I’ll get help.”

      “Too late,” he muttered.

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