Her Holiday Secret

Her Holiday Secret
Jennifer Greene

SLEEPING BEAUTY…Maggie Fletcher could recall everything except the past twenty-four hours. Luckily for her, town sheriff Andy Gautier was on the case. Rumour had it that the lawman with the sexy grin could get to the bottom of anything - or anyone. Even a lady with some mighty long-repressed desires.MEETS HER PRINCE? Andy had vowed to help his sleeping beauty regain her lost day. But in the midst of the approaching Christmas holiday and all that danged mistletoe, he was having a hard time keeping his mind on business.The elusive Miss Fletcher tempted the rugged sheriff to propose they make some sizzling Christmas memories together . But would the ultimate revelation of Maggie's holiday secret shatter their dream of a fairy-tale romance?

He ambled toward her, as lazy as a long, cool drink of something wicked. (#ub485c883-0f0a-5a19-a76d-f488cf23ac20)Letter to Reader (#ude41f31a-40ab-5297-897d-83b9e09f30e6)Title Page (#uf3f896b1-7e65-5f34-816a-7cf358400e0c)JENNIFER GREENE (#ub52c2b7f-f882-5597-91d8-15b8c2e4fc67)Chapter One (#u5e860ead-d4ae-57cd-944d-abddf8f47afd)Chapter Two (#u4499642d-9007-5392-8981-4bbc1cd86139)Chapter Three (#u69f3a33b-fa0b-5061-bcbf-1b230419ca10)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

He ambled toward her, as lazy as a long, cool drink of something wicked.

He confounded Maggie. It was absolutely ridiculous for a practical, grounded, capable twenty-nine-year-old woman to feel bowled over by the look in a man’s eyes. But there it was. Dam it, Andy was so darling she just wanted to sip him in.

His mouth kicked up a grin long before he reached her. Those eyes of his were darker than a midnight sky. He gave the length of her a once-over, from the floppy socks to her jeans and baggy sweater to her hair flying every which way. Maggie knew darn well there was nothing in her appearance to earn that sizzling spark.

And then Andy asked her the question she’d been dreading all day.

“Remembered anything yet that I need to arrest you for?”

Dear Reader,

Hectic life? Too much to do, too little time? Well, Silhouette Desire provides you with the perfect emotional getaway with this month’s moving stories of men and women finding love and passion. So relax, pick up a Desire novel and let yourself escape, with six wonderful, involving, totally absorbing romances.

Ultratalented author Mary Lynn Baxter kicks off November with her sultry Western style in Slow Talkin’ Texan, the story of a MAN OF THE MONTH whose strong desires collide with an independent lady—she’s silk to his denim, lace to his leather... and doing all she can to resist this irresistible tycoon. A small-town lawman who rescues a “lost” beauty might just find his own Christmas bride in Jennifer Greene’s heartwarming Her Holiday Secret. Ladies, watch closely as a Thirty-Day Fiancé is transformed into a forever husband in Leanne Banks’s third book in THE RULEBREAKERS miniseries.

Don’t dare miss the intensity of an innocent wife trying to seduce her honor-bound husband in The Oldest Living Married Virgin, the latest in Maureen Child’s spectacular miniseries THE BACHELOR BATTALION. And when a gorgeous exmarine shows up at his old flame’s ranch to round up the “wife who got away,” he discovers a daughter he never knew in The Re-Enlisted Groom by Amy J. Fetzer. The Forbidden Bride-to-Re may be off-limits...but isn’t that what makes the beautiful heroine in Kathryn Taylor’s scandal-filled novel all the more tempting?

This November, Silhouette Desire is the place to live, love and lose yourself...to sensual romance. Enjoy!

Warm regards,

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

Her Holiday Secret

Jennifer Greene

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

JENNIFER GREENE

lives near Lake Michigan with her husband and two children. Before writing full time, she worked as a teacher and a personnel manager. Michigan State University honored her as an “outstanding woman graduate” for her work with women on campus.

Ms. Greene has written more than fifty category romances, for which she has won numerous awards, including two RITAs from the Romance Writers of America in the Best Short Contemporary Books category and a Career Achievement award from Romantic Times Magazine.

One

White. When she opened her eyes, everything around her seemed bewilderingly white. White noise, white pain, white walls, white sheets.

The last thing she remembered was an explosion of vivid color. Vague pictures flashed in her mind from just before that. She was pretty sure she’d been driving. Alone. It had been snowing like a banshee, on a night blacker than a witch’s soul. And then suddenly metal screeched on metal with the screaming sound of a crash, and all those jeweled colors had exploded in her head. Then nothing.

Really nothing. She swiftly realized she was lying in a hospital bed—and her body was creaking and groaning in too many places to worry that her brain wasn’t functioning. She hadn’t lost her mind. Just her memory. Her name, who she was, refused to come to her. There seemed nothing in her head but all that white fuzz... and a sick, terrible feeling that something bad had happened—something that she was responsible for.

“Well, now. You’re finally waking up for us, huh?” The nurse who charged in had a round face framed by bustling, bouncing brown curls. The smile was sweet, but the eyes were all business. “Now don’t try getting ambitious, honey, you just lie there. I’m going to take your pulse and get your blood pressure—”

Her throat was dry, her voice so thick that she had trouble getting the words out. “Something happened. An accident, I think—”

“Uh-huh.”

“I was responsible? I caused it, didn’t I? Oh God, was anyone hurt?”

“Well, I didn’t hear much—no one ever tells us anything up here—but when Bertha wheeled you up from the ER, she said something about you being hit head-on. Didn’t sound like your fault in any way to me.” The nurse pried open her eyes, shot in a harsh spear of light, then flicked it off. “Feeling a little confused and disoriented, are we?”

“I can’t seem to remember anything about it—”

“That’s not at all unusual, hon. Just be patient and give yourself a little time. An accident’s always a shock to the system, and after the body pumps up all that adrenaline, sometimes the mind just seems to shut down and take a little rest right after.” The nurse squeezed two fingers on her pulse, then strapped a cuff on her upper arm. She seemed to have five hands, and when they weren’t busy, she was talking.

“You don’t need to worry about a thing. Not real likely you’re going to win a beauty contest for a couple of days, but there were no broken bones, no internal injuries. I’ll bet it feels like you tangled with the Marines, though, huh? You’ve got a prizewinning lump on your head and some Olympic-sized bruises, but you’ll be perfectly fine and healed up before you know it. Doc Howard’ll be in shortly. We’ve just been waiting for you to wake up. And the sheriff’s waiting to see you, too—you know Andy Gautier? He’s a sweetheart. If you feel up to it, he’s got some questions about the accident—”

“I don’t know what help I could be. I don’t remember.” Her voice was coming stronger, the whole hospital room sharpening in focus. The only thing still muzzy was her stupid mind. “Darn it. I really can’t seem to remember. Anything—”

“Now just take it easy. If you’re that worried about it, let’s just try you out on some basics, okay? Do you know your name?”

To her relief, it came. “Maggie. Maggie Fletcher.”

“There now. You aced that one. And your driver’s license claims that you’re twenty-nine, brown hair, green eyes, 110 pounds. That sound like you?”

Maggie would have nodded, except that any movement made her head feel like someone was crushing shards of glass in her skull. Wryly she admitted, “I think I lied about the weight.”

The nurse chuckled. “Don’t we all, dear. How about your address? You know that?”

“302 River Creek Road.”

“Another ace. But we’ll try a couple tougher ones. You know what day it is? Where you are?”

“Yeah. It’s Friday—the Friday night after Thanksgiving. And I haven’t been here before, but this has to be the hospital at White Branch.” The concerned frown on the nurse’s face was swiftly disappearing, and Maggie told herself she should be feeling equally reassured. It was all there. As if someone flicked the light switch on her memory, all the details of her life were relighting up. She could picture her cabin in her mind, knew what her job was, knew that she’d had Thanksgiving dinner at her sister’s the day before. She hadn’t lost...herself. Everything really was okay.

Except that she still couldn’t remember a single detail after going to her sister’s for the holiday dinner. The twenty-four hours before the accident were simply a blank. And that wouldn’t particularly matter—except that she couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that she’d done something seriously wrong.

The nurse obviously considered her ability to answer those questions as a sign there was nothing to worry about. “See now? What’d I tell you? You’re starting to remember just fine. You just had a big jolt to your system, perfectly normal to feel fuzzy for a bit, and you’ve got a concussion to boot.”

“But there’s still this whole gap. I don’t know where I was going, anything I did that whole day, why I was driving anywhere at night, the accident... you’re not lying to me, are you? About someone else being hurt? About it being my fault?”