The Stars of Mithra: Hidden Star

The Stars of Mithra: Hidden Star
Nora Roberts

THE INTERNATIONAL BESTSELLING AUTHOR‘The most successful novelist on Planet Earth’ Washington PostHIDDEN STAR - She couldn’t remember a thing, not even who she was. But it was clear Bailey James was in trouble. Big trouble! And she desperately needed Cade Parris to help her live long enough to find out just what kind. The moment the coolheaded private eye laid eyes on the fragile beauty, she almost had him forgetting who he was. But what was she doing with a satchel full of cash and a diamond as big as a baby’s fist? And how could he unravel this mystery if he kept tripping over his heart?CAPTIVE STAR - All cynical bounty hunter Jack Dakota had to do was pick up some pretty little bail jumper. But soon discovered there was nothing easy about spitfire M. J. O’Leary—or about this case. Someone had set them both up. Now they were handcuffed together and on the run from a pair of killers. And M. J. wasn’t talking—not even when Jack found a gigantic blue diamond hidden in her bag. Everything told Jack this alluring vixen couldn’t be trusted… everything except his captive heart.SECRET STAR - He was standing face-to-face with a dead woman… Lieutenant Seth Buchanan’s homicide investigation—and his heart—were thrown into turmoil when Grace Fontaine turned up very much alive… and in possession of one of the diamonds known as the Stars of Mithra. The cool, controlled cop never let his feelings get in the way of his job, and everything he knew about the notorious heiress told him she was poison. But it was hard to remember there was any mystery more important to solve than that of Grace herself.Nora Roberts is a publishing phenomenon; this New York Times bestselling author of over 200 novels has more than 450 million of her books in print worldwide.Praise for Nora Roberts'The most successful novelist on Planet Earth' - Washington Post‘A storyteller of immeasurable diversity and talent’ - Publisher’s Weekly

The Stars of Mithra

Hidden Star

Stars of Mithra

Book One

Captive Star

Stars of Mithra

Book Two

Secret Star

Stars of Mithra

Book Three

Nora Roberts

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

Hidden Star

Stars of Mithra

Book One

Nora Roberts

She couldn't remember a thing, not even who she was. But it was clear Bailey James was in trouble. Big trouble! And she desperately needed Cade Parris to help her live long enough to find out just what kind.

The moment the coolheaded private eye laid eyes on the fragile beauty, she almost had him forgetting who he was. If Bailey was a criminal, Cade would eat his P.I. license. But what was she doing with a satchel full of cash and a diamond as big as a baby's fist? And how could he unravel this mystery if he kept tripping over his heart?

To white knights and their damsels

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

Epilogue

Chapter 1

Cade Parris wasn’t having the best of days when the woman of his dreams walked into his office. His secretary had quit the day before—not that she’d been much of a prize anyway, being more vigilant about her manicure than maintaining the phone logs. But he needed someone to keep track of things and shuffle papers into files. Even the raise he offered out of sheer desperation hadn’t swayed her to give up her sudden determination to become a country-and-western singing sensation.

So his secretary was heading off to Nashville in a second-hand pickup, and his office looked like the ten miles of bad road he sincerely hoped she traveled.

She hadn’t exactly had her mind on her work the past month or two. That impression had been more than confirmed when he fished a bologna sandwich out of the file drawer. At least he thought the blob in the plastic bag was bologna. And it had been filed under L—for Lunch?

He didn’t bother to swear, nor did he bother to answer the phone that rang incessantly on the empty desk in his reception area. He had reports to type up, and as typing wasn’t one of his finer skills, he just wanted to get on with it.

Parris Investigations wasn’t what some would call a thriving enterprise. But it suited him, just as the cluttered two-room office squeezed into the top floor of a narrow brick building with bad plumbing in North West D.C. suited him.

He didn’t need plush carpets or polished edges. He’d grown up with all that, with the pomp and pretenses, and had had his fill of it all by the time he reached the age of twenty. Now, at thirty, with one bad marriage behind him and a family who continued to be baffled by his pursuits, he was, by and large, a contented man.

He had his investigator’s license, a decent reputation as a man who got the job done, and enough income to keep his agency well above water.

Though actual business income was a bit of a problem just then. He was in what he liked to call a lull. Most of his caseload consisted of insurance and domestic work—a few steps down from the thrills he’d imagined when he set out to become a private investigator. He’d just cleaned up two cases, both of them minor insurance frauds that hadn’t taken much effort or innovation to close.

He had nothing else coming in, his greedy bloodsucker of a landlord was bumping up his rent, the engine in his car had been making unsettling noises lately, his air conditioner was on the fritz. And the roof was leaking again.

He took the spindly yellow-leafed philodendron his double-crossing secretary had left behind and set it on the uncarpeted floor under the steady drip, hoping it might drown.

He could hear a voice droning into his answering machine. It was his mother’s voice. Lord, he thought, did a man ever really escape his mother?

“Cade, dear, I hope you haven’t forgotten the Embassy Ball. You know you’re to escort Pamela Lovett. I had lunch with her aunt today, and she tells me that Pamela just looks marvelous after her little sojourn to Monaco.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he muttered, and narrowed his eyes at the computer. He and machines had poor and untrusting relationships.

He sat down and faced the screen as his mother continued to chatter: “Have you had your tux cleaned? Do make time to get a haircut, you looked so scraggly the last time I saw you.”