An Unlikely Match

An Unlikely Match
Cynthia Thomason

Hogan. Jack Hogan.The cocky ex-Secret Service agent is determined to point out the security risks in this eccentric little beach town. Mayor Claire Betancourt's town.Claire is just as determined to protect Heron Point and its free-spirited citizens-however quirky they may be-from his interference. No way are Jack's take-charge attitude and dangerous good looks going to sway her.But Claire gets a shocking reality check when her nine-year-old daughter is kidnapped and Jack is the only one who can save her. And he's surprised to discover that what started out as just a job has suddenly become very personal.

“I’m here to see if your mother will go somewhere with me tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Jane picked up the end of the boa and twirled it around. “She can go.”

“Not so fast, Jane,” Claire said. An idea occurred to her, one that had the advantage of easing her anxiety immensely. “There is the little matter of my nine-year-old daughter. Of course, if Jane can go with us…”

“Mommy, no,” Jane said. “Did you forget again? I’m going to make bags of potpourri with Aunt Pet to give to girls for Halloween. We’re putting in lavender and lemongrass, and…”

“That’s right. I did forget. You can stay with Aunt Pet.”

“Then you’ll go?” Jack asked.

“I guess so. Since you said it’s important.”

“Good.” He smiled down at Jane. “But I have a question. If you’re giving the girls nice smelly things, what are you giving the boys?”

“Aunt Pet says we’re going to give them little bottles of toad juice, and they can all get warts.”

Claire started to reprimand her daughter, but she was suddenly engrossed in watching Jack’s attempt to hide a smile.

“Remind me not to trick-or-treat at your house,” he said.

Dear Reader,

I’ve often been asked where I get the ideas for my stories. I am most often inspired by unique or off-the-beaten-path locations. A year ago, while scouting out fertile locations for my husband to do some deep sea fishing, we came upon a remote, laid-back island community about two hours north of Tampa on Florida’s west coast.

This island, which boasts great seafood restaurants and charming art galleries, does not have even one chain restaurant or name brand motel. Every business is unique to this location only. It’s a quirky, sit-a-spell place where visitors can enjoy Gulf breezes and wandering minds. And so, Heron Point, my fictional representation of this place, was born in my imagination and populated with characters I hope you will find memorable. Like me, the hero and heroine of this story never expected to end up here. And they never expected to find love here either, but that’s the wonderful thing about love—you never know where you’ll find it.

I hope you’ll visit Heron Point again in my next book from Harlequin Superromance, An Unlikely Father, available in 2006.

I love to hear from readers. Please visit my Web site, www.cynthiathomason.com, or e-mail me at Cynthoma@aol.com. My address is P.O. Box 550068, Fort Lauderdale, FL 33355.

Sincerely,

Cynthia Thomason

An Unlikely Match

Cynthia Thomason

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

This book is dedicated to my two “moms,” Barbara Brackett, who gave birth to me, and Elsie Thomason, my mother-in-law. Voracious readers, both ladies read every one of my books and always offer encouraging words. Thanks, Moms.

And a special thank-you to my friend Nan Carter, whose expertise in tracking down the bad guys helped me realistically portray the illegal activity mentioned in this book. Thanks, Nan, for ALL you do.

CONTENTS

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

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

“MOMMY, YOU’RE COMING to the school zone.”

Claire Betancourt glanced over at her nine-year-old daughter and automatically raised her foot off the accelerator. The Lexus sedan slowed to fifteen miles per hour before proceeding under the blinking yellow light. “Thank you, Jane, for your infallible back-seat driving,” Claire said.

“You were speeding, weren’t you, Mommy?”

“No.” At the girl’s pointed stare, Claire relented. “Maybe a little. But we’re late.” Still, it wouldn’t look right if the mayor was caught doing a reckless twenty miles per hour through Heron Point’s only school zone. Especially when she had an elementary student in the passenger seat.

Jane sat forward, straining against her seat belt. “Look, Mommy, isn’t that Mrs. Hutchinson?”