LITMIR.BIZ

       He had fantasized about what they could have had …

      A lopsided snowman in the front yard. No, this would have never been his home. Ever since his parents had been murdered in their beds on Christmas Eve, Thad had never had a home, or at least he’d never let any place feel like one.

      But Thad needed an angel now. As much as he needed to leave Caroline alone, he needed even more to see her face.

      She wasn’t the one who opened the door at his knock, though.

      At first it looked as though it had swung open of its own volition, until Thad adjusted his line of vision way down to the little boy who stood in the doorway. With his dark brown hair and blue eyes, the kid was a miniature version of Thad.

      Caroline had had his son.

      About the Author

      Bestselling, award-winning author LISA CHILDS writes paranormal and contemporary romance for Mills & Boon. She lives on thirty acres in west Michigan with her husband, two daughters, a talkative Siamese and a long-haired Chihuahua who thinks she’s a Rottweiler. Lisa loves hearing from readers, who can contact her through her website, www.lisachilds.com, or snail mail address, PO Box 139, Marne, MI 49435, USA.

      Daddy Bombshell

      Lisa Childs

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      To Melissa Jeglinski for being a wonderful, supportive friend as well as an amazing agent!

      Chapter One

      His finger twitched and, as if by reflex alone, he squeezed the trigger. The gun vibrated in his hand as the bullet propelled down the barrel. He didn’t miss.

      He never did….

      The body dropped facedown onto the flagstones of the patio. Blood saturated clothing and pooled on the patio beneath the body.

      Thad Kendall closed the distance between them and hunched down, feeling for a pulse. Nothing flickered beneath the skin, which was already growing cold despite the heat of the fire that was burning down the cottage on the other side of the patio.

      Who the hell was this person who had set fire to the cottage and killed the man near the front of the cottage—not to mention fired all those shots that Thad had barely dodged?

      He drew in a deep breath of acrid smoke. Then he reached out and rolled the body over so he could see the face. His sister’s distinctive green eyes, wide with shock, stared up at him.

      “No!” Thad awoke with the shout and jerked upright in bed. He had already kicked off the covers, and a fine sheen of sweat covered his chest and back. The perspiration chilled him nearly as much as the dream had.

      But it wasn’t just a dream; it was a memory of the shooting that had happened a week ago.

      A knock rapped softly against his door, but before he could clear his throat to respond, it creaked open. “You okay?” a feminine voice gently asked.

      He grabbed up a T-shirt from beside the bed and dragged it over his head. “Yeah, yeah …”

      Just as she hadn’t hesitated before opening the door, she didn’t hesitate before crossing the room and sitting on his bed. “You were yelling,” she said. “Did you have a bad dream?”

      Thad stared into his sister’s wide green eyes, which were full of concern and—thank God—life. He hadn’t shot her that night, and the man he had shot hadn’t really had her eyes. His had been a flat brown color, but something about the size and shape of them—as well as the man’s other features—had reminded Thad so much of Natalie that the image had haunted him ever since he’d turned the body over.

      “The worst …”

      She shuddered. “I know what that’s like.”

      He snaked an arm around her shoulders. “Yes, you do.”

      Twenty years ago, Natalie had found their parents dead in their beds on Christmas morning, and even though she later hadn’t remembered finding their bodies, nightmares had plagued her ever since their brutal murders. A man had been arrested, convicted and sentenced to two life terms, but just recently DNA evidence had proved that man’s innocence.

      So the real killer was still out there.

      It couldn’t have been the man Thad had shot. He hadn’t been much older than Thad’s thirty-one, so he would have been just a kid himself two decades ago. That was about all they knew for certain about the dead guy—his approximate age and that his first name had maybe been Wade.

      Even though Wade hadn’t been old enough to be the Christmas Eve Killer, as the media had dubbed their parents’ murderer, Thad still wanted to learn more about the man he’d killed. Like why he’d been stalking and trying to kill Natalie….

      “You used to come into my room and comfort me,” she remembered with a wistful sigh.

      “And now you’re comforting me.” He grinned at the irony.

      She leaned her head on his shoulder, her blond hair tickling his cheek. He and his oldest brother, Devin, were dark haired and blue eyed like their father had been, while his brother Ash and Natalie had their mother’s green eyes. Natalie had her straight blond hair, too.

      But her sensitive heart was hers alone. “It’s my fault you’re having nightmares.”

      “No, it’s not,” he denied. She couldn’t have guessed what he’d realized—he had been the first to notice the resemblance between her and her stalker.

      “Yes, it is, because you had to shoot that man to save me and Gray.” She lifted her head and stared up into his face. “I can’t imagine how horrible that must have been for you, killing a man. That’s why you’re having nightmares, Thad.”

      If killing a man gave him nightmares, then he wouldn’t have been able to sleep for the past several years.

      “Maybe you need to talk to someone,” she suggested, “so that you can sleep. I bet Gray could help you.” Love radiated from her at the mention of her fiancé. “He was a Navy SEAL, you know.”

      “I know.” That was why their brother Devin had hired Grayson Scott to protect her when Natalie had first mentioned her stalker to Devin’s fiancée, Jolie Carson.

      “Or if you’re not comfortable talking to Gray, you could talk to Ash.” Ash, the second oldest of the Kendall orphans, was also former military and a detective with the St. Louis Police Department.

      The oldest, Devin, had joined their uncle, who had become their guardian after their parents’ murders, in running their father’s communications business. Natalie, the baby at twenty-six, worked for Kendall Communications, too, as a graphic artist in the PR department. Thad was the only Kendall who had left St. Louis and hadn’t come back except for very rare visits to check on his family.

      Even now he wasn’t back for good. Once his parents’ murderer was finally brought to justice, he would leave again.

      “Natalie.” He squeezed her shoulders. “I don’t need to talk to anyone about the shooting.” But he needed to talk to someone. The DNA results had to be back by now. But instead of thinking about the crime-scene tech who was now his sister-in-law, another woman came to mind. Hell, that woman had never really left his mind once during the four years since he had seen her last.

      “If you don’t want to talk to anyone about the shooting, you’re not going to want to leave the estate,” she said with a glance toward the window. Sunlight streamed through the partially open blinds.

      “Those damn reporters camped out yet?”

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