LITMIR.BIZ

      LINDA CONRAD

      Born in Brazil to a commercial pilot and his wife, Linda Conrad was raised in south Florida and has been a dreamer and storyteller for as long as she can remember. After her mother’s death a few years ago, she moved from her then-home in Texas to Southern California and gave up her previous life as a stockbroker to rededicate herself to her first love—writing.

      Linda and her husband, along with a Siamese mix cat named Sam, recently moved back to south Florida. She’s been writing contemporary romances for about five years and loves sharing them with readers. She enjoys growing roses, reading cozy mysteries and sexy romances, and driving her little convertible in the sunshine. But most important, Linda loves learning about—and living with—passion.

      It makes Linda’s day to hear from readers. Visit with her at www.LindaConrad.com.

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      One

      Danged, crazy-fool redhead.

      With one swift curse under his breath, Texas Ranger Sloan Abbott checked his watch and headed across the narrow downtown street toward the lobby where the foolhardy woman stood in full view. He wasn’t supposed to meet Lainie Gardner in her office on the twelfth floor of the Houston News building for another half hour.

      He’d had serious reservations about taking this assignment. Being a bodyguard wasn’t his normal area of expertise. But he knew enough to be sure that a stalking victim was supposed to follow instructions.

      Her life might depend on it.

      Sloan had spent the day inspecting every inch of the building and the surrounding area. He knew the elevator systems and the location of each closet and air duct. No one could’ve done a better job of securing the premises than he had.

      He’d also spent a good deal of time studying a dossier on Ms. Gardner that the captain had given him. The surprise was that he’d been fascinated by the interesting bits and pieces the file had supplied of her life.

      Sloan had already come to the conclusion it would definitely be worthwhile to postpone the trip that had been the original reason he’d taken a leave of absence from the Texas Rangers. Protecting a beautiful advice columnist seemed like a much better idea at the moment than searching out potentially painful truths about his background.

      So what does the gorgeous woman with such a famous face do? She casually strolls out of the elevator into the open lobby in full daylight.

      He’d had no trouble recognizing her from across the street. Of course, he’d been studying her pictures. But he also knew that for years her face had been splattered in newspapers as an advertisement for her syndicated advice columns. With her flash of bright-copper hair, she’d be hard for anyone to miss.

      As irritated as he was with her casual behavior, he couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face when he walked closer to the reality of Lainie Gardner—despite how foolish she was being at the moment.

      The pictures hadn’t done her justice. Her body was compact, sturdy but curved in all the right places. And even dressed as she was, in loose-fitting pants and a sweater, he could tell that most of her five-foot, seven-inch body was made up of long, sexy legs.

      Have mercy. He’d always been a leg man.

      His mood changed dramatically when he saw Lainie stop in full view of the street and begin to laugh at something the other woman said. She’d been told to wait in her office until he arrived to give her instructions and escort her home. She was in danger and had been threatened. So what the hell was she doing?

      He heard the muffled crack at the same instant the glass in front of him fractured into a million crystal slivers and flew in every direction. Someone screamed. Someone else shouted. But Sloan didn’t waste time wondering where the shot had come from.

      After sprinting through the shattered window, he pushed past hysterical bystanders to the spot where the two women lay. Both of them were facedown on the marble floor…and there was blood. Lots of blood.

      Within two seconds he’d determined that both women were still alive and that Lainie hadn’t lost consciousness. She didn’t fight him, as he pulled her up and quickly decided to remove her from the line of fire. If she was hurt badly, he’d find out soon enough. But for now, he wasn’t taking any chances on her being shot again while he stopped to check her wounds.

      Another sudden hail of bullets had bystanders dodging out of the way to the sidewalk. “Call 9-1-1!” he shouted to anyone within earshot.

      But Sloan was sure that, when he got Lainie out of sight,

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