“I have very little in common with that starry-eyed girl who rushed into your arms—and into your bed—without a second thought.”
“I was very fond of that girl.” Regret edged Egan’s voice.
Fond of. Fond of. The words rang out inside Maggie’s head like a blast from a loudspeaker. Oh, yes, he had been fond of her. And she had loved him. Madly. Passionately. With every beat of her foolish young heart.
And now, everything that was female within her longed to lean on him, to seek comfort and support in the power of his strong arms and big body. She was so alone and had been for what seemed like a lifetime. And who better than her son’s father to give her the solace she desperately needed at a time like this?
But would Egan love and protect her…even though she had kept his son a secret all these years?
Dear Reader,
As you have no doubt noticed, this year marks Silhouette Books’ 20th anniversary, and for the next three months the spotlight shines on Intimate Moments, so we’ve packed our schedule with irresistible temptations.
First off, I’m proud to announce that this month marks the beginning of A YEAR OF LOVING DANGEROUSLY, a twelve-book continuity series written by eleven of your favorite authors. Sharon Sala, a bestselling, award-winning, absolutely incredible writer, launches things with Mission: Irresistible, and next year she will also write the final book in the continuity. Picture a top secret agency, headed by a man no one sees. Now picture a traitor infiltrating security, chased by a dozen (or more!) of the agency’s best operatives. The trail crisscrosses the globe, and passion is a big part of the picture, until the final scene is played out and the final romance reaches its happy conclusion. Every book in A YEAR OF LOVING DANGEROUSLY features a self-contained romance, along with a piece of the ongoing puzzle, and enough excitement and suspense to fuel your imagination for the entire year. Don’t miss a single monthly installment!
This month also features new books from top authors such as Beverly Barton, who continues THE PROTECTORS, and Marie Ferrarella, who revisits THE BABY OF THE MONTH CLUB. And in future months look for New York Times bestselling author Linda Howard, with A Game of Chance (yes, it’s Chance Mackenzie’s story at long last), and a special in-line two-in-one collection by Maggie Shayne and Marilyn Pappano, called Who Do You Love? All that and more of A YEAR OF LOVING DANGEROUSLY, as well as new books from the authors who’ve made Intimate Moments the place to come for a mix of excitement and romance no reader can resist. Enjoy!
Leslie J. Wainger
Executive Senior Editor
BEVERLY BARTON
EGAN CASSIDY’S KID
To Billy Ray Beaver, D. G. Hatch
and every man and woman who served their country
during the Vietnam War years. And to their families.
Special thanks to Malaina for permitting me to use her
heartfelt poetry that so beautifully expresses the
emotions shared by many veterans.
Books by Beverly Barton
Silhouette Intimate Moments
This Side of Heaven #453
Paladin’s Woman #515
Lover and Deceiver #557
The Outcast #614
*Defending His Own #670
*Guarding Jeannie #688
*Blackwood’s Woman #707
*Roarke’s Wife #807
*A Man Like Morgan Kane #819
*Gabriel Hawk’s Lady #830
Emily and the Stranger #860
Lone Wolf’s Lady #877
*Keeping Annie Safe #937
*Murdock’s Last Stand #979
*Egan Cassidy’s Kid #1015
Silhouette Books
36 Hours
Nine Months
3,2,1…Married!
“Getting Personal”
The Fortunes of Texas
In the Arms of a Hero
Silhouette Desire
Yankee Lover #580
Lucky in Love #628
Out of Danger #662
Sugar Hill #687
Talk of the Town #711
The Wanderer #766
Cameron #796
The Mother of My Child #831
Nothing But Trouble #881
The Tender Trap #1047
A Child of Her Own #1077
†His Secret Child #1203
†His Woman, His Child #1209
†Having His Baby #1216
BEVERLY BARTON
has been in love with romance since her grandfather gave her an illustrated book of Beauty and the Beast. An avid reader since childhood, Beverly wrote her first book at the age of nine. After marriage to her own “hero” and the births of her daughter and son, Beverly chose to be a full-time homemaker, aka wife, mother, friend and volunteer. The author of over thirty books, Beverly is a member of Romance Writers of America and helped found the Heart of Dixie chapter in Alabama. She has won numerous awards and made the Waldenbooks and USA Today bestseller lists.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Prologue
After all these years, he finally had what he wanted—the perfect ammunition to use against his worst enemy. At long last, he could make Egan Cassidy pay. All he had to do to bring Cassidy to his knees was kidnap Bent Douglas.
General Grant Cullen, the supreme leader of the Ultimate Survivalists, leaned back in his swivel chair and grinned. Revenge was sweet. Hell, just the contemplation of revenge was sweet.
He had waited nearly thirty years for this day and he was going to savor every minute of it.
“I want champagne,” Cullen told his right-hand man, Winn Sherman. “Send one of the boys to the wine cellar. This is a celebration!”
“Then your phone call was the news you’ve been waiting for?” Winn asked.
“Oh, yes.” Grant rubbed his hands together gleefully. “I’ve been searching a lifetime to find a way to destroy Egan Cassidy. I knew that sooner or later the way in which I could inflict great suffering on him would be revealed to me.”
“And the way has been revealed, sir?”
Grant laughed. “Mmm-mmm…” He licked his lips and sighed. “I could have killed Cassidy years ago, but I wanted more. I need to see him suffer, to see him lose everything, the way I did. And now it’s going to happen.”
“I thought you’d told me that Cassidy had nothing to lose, except his life.”
“Ah, but that’s the joy of it. He does have more to lose—much more—and he doesn’t even know it,” Cullen said.
“Then this last private detective uncovered something you can use against Cassidy?”
“Indeed he did. He came upon some information that none of the other idiots I hired ever discovered.”
Grant couldn’t remember when he’d felt more alive. More exhilarated. Pure pleasure wound its way through his mind and body as he fantasized about the moment he would rip out Cassidy’s heart.
“It seems that for the past fourteen years Cassidy has paid for flowers to be placed on the grave of Bentley Tyson III, a former Vietnam vet, from some Podunk little town in Alabama,” Grant explained. “When I learned that bit of information, I knew that Tyson had meant something to Cassidy. So I had my detective investigate a little further. Seems Tyson saved Cassidy’s life in Nam.”
Winn frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. What good is this
information if Tyson is dead?”
“Tyson had a younger sister.”
“I see, sir. What significance—?”
“Maggie Tyson Douglas has a fourteen-year-old son.”
“I don’t follow you, sir,” Winn admitted sheepishly. “Tyson’s sister and nephew wouldn’t mean anything to Cassidy, would they?”
“Oh, yes, but they do, my friend. They do. They mean more to him than he realizes. Especially the boy.” Euphoria unlike any he had ever known suffused Cullen’s very soul. “After we’ve arranged to bring Bent Douglas here for a little visit, I plan to telephone Cassidy and tell him just how important Maggie Douglas’s child is to him.”
“I’m confused, sir.” Winn’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “You’re inviting this boy here to the fort?”
Cullen shot to his feet, clamped his hand down on Winn’s shoulder and smiled broadly. “We’re going to insist the young man come for a visit. You see, Colonel Sherman, Bent Douglas is Egan Cassidy’s kid and the man doesn’t even know it.”
Chapter 1
“Don’t eat so fast,” Maggie Douglas scolded. “We aren’t running late this morning. We have plenty of time to get you to school early for your student council meeting.”
“I’m hungry, Mama,” Bent replied, his mouth half-full of cereal. “Is my grilled cheese sandwich ready, yet?”
Using a metal spatula, Maggie sliced the sandwich in two, then lifted it from the electric skillet and laid it on her son’s plate. For the past six months the boy had been eating her out of house and home. No matter how much he ate, he remained famished. She smiled, remembering how her father had teased her brother when he’d gone through his ravenous period at about the same age Bent was now.
Maggie wanted to ruffle her son’s hair, the way she’d done when he was younger. But another change that had occurred in the past few months was Bent’s obsession with his hair and clothes. He wore his silky black hair in the latest style: short, moussed and sticking straight up. And his baggy jeans and oversize shirt looked as if they’d been purchased at a secondhand store, despite their hefty price tags.
Bent lifted a sandwich half and stuck it into his mouth. His gaze met Maggie’s just as she rolled her eyes heavenward. He munched on the grilled cheese, swallowed and then washed it all down with a large glass of orange juice.
Bent wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Go ahead and ask me.”
“Ask you what?”
“Ask me if my legs are hollow.” Laughing, Bent shoved back his chair and stood. “You know you said Grandfather used to tell Uncle Bentley that he ate so much his legs had to be hollow.”
“I don’t need to ask you. I’ve come to the conclusion that all teenage boys have hollow legs and sometimes—” she reached up and pecked the top of his head “—hollow noggins, too.”
“Ah, gee, Mama, don’t start that again. Just because I want to go to Florida with the guys this summer doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”
Maggie looked up at her six-foot son and a shudder rippled along her nerve endings. Dear Lord, the older he got, the more he resembled his father. And the stronger the wild streak in him grew. A yearning for adventure and excitement that was alien to Maggie. She’d always preferred safety and serenity.
“You’re too young to go off with a bunch of other boys, without a chaperone.” She and Bent had been batting this argument back and forth for weeks now. She had no intention of allowing her fourteen-year-old child to spend a week in Florida with five other boys, ranging in age from fourteen to eighteen.
“Chris’s big brother is going along to chaperone us.” Bent picked up his clear vinyl book bag from the kitchen counter.
“And how old is Chris’s big brother?” Maggie downed the last drops of lukewarm coffee in her mug, set the mug aside and grabbed her purse off the table.
“He’s twenty,” Bent said, as if twenty were an age of great wisdom and responsibility.
Maggie snatched up her car keys and headed toward the back door. “Let’s go. If I have to drop you off a block from the school, then we’d better head out now so you’ll have time to walk that extra block.”
Bent grabbed Maggie’s shoulder, then leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You’re the absolute best mom. Some mothers wouldn’t understand why a guy my age would be embarrassed to have his mommy drive him to school every day.”
Maggie caressed her kissed cheek. Those sweet moments of little-boy affection were few and far between these days. Her only child was growing up—fast. Each day she noted some small change, some almost indiscernible way he had transformed from a boy into a young man.
“Buttering me up won’t work, you know.” She opened the kitchen door and shooed him outside. “You aren’t going to Florida this summer, unless you go with me.”
Bent shrugged. “If you say so.”
He let the subject drop, but Maggie knew the issue was far from dead. Her son was a good kid, who’d given her very little trouble over the years, but she knew that the wanderlust in him would sooner or later break her heart. She could protect him, now, while he was still underage, but what would happen once he reached eighteen?
Ten minutes later, Maggie pulled her Cadillac over to the curb, one block from Parsons City High School. “Do you need any money?”
Bent flung open the door, glanced over his shoulders and smiled. Even his smile reminded her of his father’s.
“Got plenty,” Bent said. “You just gave me twenty Monday, remember?”
Maggie nodded. “Have a good one. And don’t be late this afternoon. You’re getting fitted for your tux at four-thirty so you need to meet me at the bookstore by four.”
He slid out of the car, then leaned over and peered inside, his smile unwavering. “I’ll meet you at the bookstore no later than four.” With that said, he slammed the door and walked down the sidewalk.
Maggie watched him for a few minutes, then eased the car away from the curb and out into traffic. Another perfectly ordinary day, she thought, then sighed contentedly. Perhaps her life wasn’t perfect, but it was good. Maybe she didn’t have a special man in her life and hadn’t had anyone since her divorce from Gil Douglas four years ago, but she was content. She had the most wonderful child in the whole world, a job she loved, enough money for Bent’s college as well as her old age and both she and Bent were blessed with excellent health. What more could a woman want?
A sudden, unexpected memory flashed through her mind. Her heartbeat accelerated. Heat flushed her body. Why had she thought about him? she wondered. She had tried to forget, tried not to ever think about that week they’d spent together and the way she had felt when she was with him. Fifteen years was a long time. Long enough for her to have gotten over her infatuation. So, why had she been thinking about Egan Cassidy so often lately? Was it because Bent had grown up to be a carbon copy of him?
She couldn’t help wondering where Egan was now. Was he even alive? Considering his profession, he could have been killed years ago. Emotion lodged in her throat. Despite the fact that a part of her hated him, she couldn’t bear the thought that he might be dead. As surely as she hated him, she still cared. After all, he was Bent’s father.
“Psst… Hey, kid, are you Bentley Tyson Douglas?” a deep, masculine voice asked.
Bent jerked his head around, seeking the man who had called out to him. “Who wants to know?”
A big, burly guy wearing faded jeans and an army fatigue shirt stepped out from behind a car in the parking lot at Bent’s right. “I’m a friend of a friend of your old man’s.”
Bent inspected the rather unsavory-looking character, from his shaggy dark beard to his scuffed leather boots. Bent very seriously doubted that this man was a friend of anyone Gil Douglas referred to as even an acquaintance. His adoptive father was one of the biggest snobs in the world. He probably wouldn’t let a guy who looked like this man did walk his dog.
“So? What do you want?” Bent asked.
“I got a kid fixing to star
t school here next year,” the man said, easing closer and closer. “Thought maybe you could tell me about the teachers and stuff like that.”
Bent glanced into the mostly empty parking lot. It’d be another twenty minutes or so before the majority of his fellow students would start arriving. The only cars already here belonged to a few teachers on early duty and the other student council members. But right this minute, he didn’t see another soul around. Instinct warned him not to trust this man. Maybe he was selling dope. Or maybe he was just a nutcase. Whatever, there was something all wrong about him.
Across the street, on the school grounds, Bent noticed a couple of students entering the building, but they were too far away to hear him if he yelled.
What are you afraid of, Douglas? he asked himself. You’re not some little kid. You’re a pretty big guy, so if this man tries anything funny, you can handle him, can’t you?
“Look, I haven’t got time to talk,” Bent said, taking several steps backward until he eased off the sidewalk and into the street.
The man grinned. Bent didn’t like that sinister smirk. Just as he started to turn and make a mad dash toward the schoolyard, he heard the roar of a car’s engine. Before he had a chance to run, the big man moved in on him. Tires screeched. Someone grabbed him from behind. A hand holding a foul-smelling rag clamped down over his nose and mouth. With expert ease, the two men lifted him and tossed him into the back of the car.
The last thing Bent remembered was the car speeding away down the street.
“So how does mama bear feel about her cub going to his first prom?” Janice Deweese stacked the tattered books into a neat pile, being careful not to crease any of the loose pages. “And with an older woman!”
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