Second Chances

by Denise Belinda McDonald

  “Yes, you are.” Zan tried to keep the earnest look on her face but she couldn’t hold back a smile.

  Jacob chuckled. “You.” He tickled her, and then Emily. They all laughed—the growing Bowman family.

  About the Author

  Denise Belinda McDonald started her writing career at the tender age of eight. Her stories have changed over the years, but not her love for telling tales. An overactive imagination and a propensity to embellish have kept her books rich with lovable characters and interesting twists. She belongs to several writers groups, several of which she serves on the board.

  Denise lives in Texas with her husband, four young boys and two dogs where she juggles her time between writing, carpool, Cub Scouts, sports galore and a multitude of crafts.

  If you would like to learn more about Denise, please visit her web site: www.denisebelindamcdonald.com or you can e-mail her at denise@denisebelindamcdonald.com.

  Look for these titles by Denise Belinda McDonald

  Now Available:

  Her Passion

  Deadly Mistakes

  The Inn Crowd

  Trading Faces

  There are worse things than winding up dead…

  Trading Faces

  © 2008 Denise Belinda McDonald

  With her ex-husband’s death, Elyse Cabot thinks she’s permanently off the emotional roller coaster…until he turns up posing as his twin brother—the real victim of foul play—at his funeral. Before she can get any answers out of him, he’s gone, leaving her with more questions than closure.

  And a fortune in loose diamonds.

  Seeing Elyse again brings back a lot of hot, sweaty teenage memories for Jack. Then she opens her mouth and out comes some cockamamie story about her ex, diamonds and double crossing. So much for rekindling an old flame. Still, he just can’t seem to resist the lure of this dame in distress.

  He just hopes he can solve the case before he does something stupid—like fall in love.

  Warning, this title contains the following: Twin, explicit sex, graphic language, some rock ’em sock ’em violence, and did we mention diamonds?

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Trading Faces:

  Elyse Cabot. Why couldn’t Jack get her out of his mind? The last thing in the world he needed was the haunted-eyed female who had bought enough coffee to keep his former regiment awake for a week. And while wearing her pajamas no less.

  Every time he closed his eyes, her face popped into his mind.

  As if to prove a point, he closed his eyes and her face swam into view, bruise and all. He rubbed his weary sockets with the heels of his hands. “Go away, already.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  His eyes flew open. “Elyse.” He blinked once then twice just to make sure his vision hadn’t morphed from his head and projected itself on the wall by the door.

  But no, Elyse Cabot stood, in the flesh, in front of his desk. Her light brown hair hung loose around her shoulders. She had on a purple sweater-set that made her face absolutely glow. Her short, black skirt hung inches above the knee.

  It was the first time he had seen her legs. At the funeral, she had worn a long skirt which came just above the ankle and later that night at the donut shop, she had on PJ pants. Her creamy pale legs were far shapelier than he had imagined. His mouth dried as his brain tried to remember how to speak.

  “I’m sorry. The receptionist wasn’t at her desk, so I came on back. I can leave if you’re busy.”

  “No.” She jumped at his response. “I mean, no, I’m not busy. And I don’t have a receptionist. At least not for another three weeks—she’s on her honeymoon.” Another reminder of how terrible marriage was. Now it was messing up his work environment.

  He got up and walked around the desk to stand in front of her. He reached toward her once, wanting nothing more than to touch her, but he hesitated. Temptation won out and her took her elbow and urged her to the guest chair.

  “What brought you to my humble enterprise?” He rounded the desk and sat, lacing his fingers together on the two-year-old desk calendar.

  “I…I want to hire you—to find somebody.” She ducked her head and he watched her fumble with the edge of her purse.

  Such dainty hands, he thought. Dainty? Did I just think “dainty”? He was becoming a sorry guy if dainty rolled through his thoughts.

  He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m your man.” Oh, he hoped that didn’t sound as suggestive and desperate to her ears as it did his own. Or then again, maybe he did want her to think that. Get a hold of yourself, Jack. He cleared his throat. “Who are you looking for?”

  “Well, I…” The telephone rang, stopping her in mid-sentence.

  “Sorry, hold that thought. Walling Investigations,” he said into the phone.

  “Jack. Whatcha up to?”

  “Hey, Johnny,” Jack said. As he spoke, he watched the color drain from Elyse’s face. She looked not all too different from the day of the funeral service just before she took a header into the hard-packed ground. “Look man, I got a client in here now. I’ll call you back.”

  He hung up and hurried to the mini-fridge where he kept water. “Here, drink this.” He handed her a bottle and knelt in front of her. She took several small drinks then looked at him.

  “You feel better?”

  She nodded, but he wasn’t altogether convinced. He checked out her eyes to make sure she was telling the truth. They looked clear, the faint look was thankfully gone, but still, she looked a little peaked. He noticed for the first time that both her cheeks had a rosy glow, probably from the cold wind outside.

  “Hey, your bruise is gone.” He ran his fingers over her cheek, over skin as soft as rose petal. Geez, when did I become a walking talking cliché?

  He pulled his hand away, his fingers immediately yearning to touch her again. “What’s wrong? Can you tell me? You looked like you were about to faint again.” His knee ached, but he didn’t want to move far away from her.

  “That call. You were talking to… Was that Jonathan?” She paled again.

  “Johnny? No that was a guy I was in the service with. I haven’t spoken to Jonathan in months. Why’d you think it was him?” He thought hard for a minute trying to figure out why her ex-brother-in-law would warrant a faint. Then he remembered the date.

  “It’s their birthday, today,” he said.

  She nodded, and then big fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Oh, no. A weepy female. He waited for the normal revulsion he usually got at the sight of tears. Instead, he wanted to comfort her, to protect her. He stood, despite the painful popping of his knee, and hauled her from the chair into his arms.

  “Take it easy. I know you miss Matthew. But it’ll be all right.”

  Elyse’s shoulders shook and it wasn’t until she snorted did he realize she was laughing. Not quite the reaction he expected.

  He pushed her back to arms length and looked at her. She swiped at the tears under her eyes, now falling from the hearty laughter roaring from her.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that…” She took a deep breath. “It’s just that the person I want you to find is…Matthew.”

  ———

  Jack said not a word, but just stared at her. He released her arms so fast she fell back into the chair.

  The concerned look left his face and a hard, unreadable one hung there.

  He must think I’m a nutcase.

  “I think you should leave now.” Jack pulled her up by the elbows and led her past the receptionist desk to the front door.

  “Wait. I know you think I’m crazy, but I’m not.” She took a deep breath. “Matthew’s not dead. I can prove it.”

  He stopped, released her and crossed his arms over his chest. An eyebrow rose up under the sandy hair that fell over his forehead. “Go on.”

  “I don’t have actual physical proof—” He opened the door. “—but if you’ll just give me five minutes I’ll explain what I know. If you don’t believe me then no har
m done, right?”

  “Yeah, right,” he said under his breath as they walked back into his office.

  Jack settled in behind his desk.

  Elyse tried not to be put off by his sudden lack of manners. But did he have to treat her as if she just broke his collectable Elvis plate that hung on the wall behind the desk? She took another swallow of the water he’d brought her. She pulled at the label on the bottle and took a deep breath.

  “I know what you must be thinking,” Elyse said, finally raising her eyes to his.

  “You have no idea.” Jack leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on the corner of the desk and looked down his nose at her.

  “Let me take a guess.” She wanted to stall while she came up with a compelling argument. All she could think about, however, was “because I say so”. She didn’t think he’d go for it. “You think I’ve lost my mind because you saw him go in the ground a few weeks ago.” A wry smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

  “Pretty close.”

  A cool man, a fiery woman, a love destined to ignite.

  Zeke

  © 2008 Beth Williamson

  Devils on Horseback, Book 3

  Intense, reserved and known for his strategic thinking, Zeke Blackwood has struggled to find his place in the post-war world. After the violent death of the first woman to capture his heart, Zeke retreats into a whisky bottle—until he’s handed the position of town sheriff.

  Zeke sobers up and tries his damnedest to be the best lawman he can be. He hadn’t counted on the tempting new saloon girl to jeopardize his cold, unhappy existence.

  Naomi Tucker is a survivor, a woman who made it through the war on her own wit and strength. She hoped moving to Tanger, Texas would bring her the peace and stability she yearns to find. Instead she runs head-on into a cool-eyed sheriff who welcomes her to his bed, only to push her away.

  The wildness of the West is far from tamed. It threatens the town’s efforts to rebuild, Zeke’s bond with the Devils—and his fragile relationship with Naomi. As Zeke’s hold on sobriety slips, he and Naomi must choose between settling for half a life apart, or embracing all they could be. Together.

  Warning: This title contains a stubborn hero, a heroine who does what she must to survive, laughter, tears and sweet, hot sex.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Zeke:

  Zeke sat on the edge of the bed and held his face in his hands. A dull throb in his head was joined by an ache in his ribs. Those boys had lit into him good. Normally he’d be able to hold his own against two men, but with the small space in the cell, he’d had no room to maneuver. Bastards.

  He was more angry than anything and fully intended on charging them with assault. A judge came into town every month, should be easy enough to request he come sooner.

  He stretched, wincing as a sharp pain gripped his back. With a groan, he lay on the bed and closed his eyes. Doc Barham had given him a little bottle of laudanum, but Zeke hated to take it since it made him lose control. With his behavior of late, losing control had become a problem. It certainly got him in trouble with the two drunks.

  When a small knock sounded at the door, Zeke clenched his jaw.

  “What?” he snapped, unwilling to talk to Lee about what happened.

  “Zeke?”

  Naomi’s quiet voice made him sit up too fast. He gasped against the rush of blood through his head. She must’ve heard him because she opened the door and peeked in.

  “Zeke?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.” Zeke didn’t want to admit to himself how glad he was to see her. The petite woman had gotten under his skin in the last two weeks, to the point her very presence actually made him feel better. Damn, he was supposed to be avoiding saloon women, not consorting with them every chance he got.

  “Can I come in?”

  She shouldn’t be alone with him in his bedroom though, no matter if she worked at the saloon or not. He was the sheriff and no doubt the old cronies on the town council would fire him if they knew. Zeke was well aware of all of it, yet it didn’t stop him from inviting her in.

  “Please.”

  Not only had he thrown caution under her little feet, but he’d said “please” too. Zeke knew then his plan to keep his distance from Naomi had failed miserably, and he started to shake. The urge to sling back a shot of whiskey roared through him.

  “I met Gideon and he told me what happened. I was, well, I was worried.” Her confession dropped into the silence of the room.

  Zeke, for the first time in his life, was overwhelmed by a woman. The sincerity of her tone and the fact she’d been worried about him made his throat close. Soft comfort and words from women hadn’t been prevalent in his life. His mother had been weak and dependent on his father, then him, for everything. Naomi had taken a lifetime’s worth of experience and reduced it to dust.

  She stepped into the room and closed the door, her rose scent washing over him. He clenched his teeth and swallowed, trying to dislodge the words stuck there.

  “Are you okay?”

  He sucked in a shaky breath and swung his legs around the side of the bed, then patted the spot next to him. His thirst, pain, embarrassment and discomfort forgotten, he could only see her. In the moonlight, she looked ethereal, like an angel come to visit him. It seemed the preacher had been right in his description of her.

  Naomi sat down gently, almost as if she was afraid, and peered at him in the dim light. “Zeke, I—”

  He put his hand against her lips, their softness making his fingers tremble. “You shouldn’t be here alone with me.”

  She smiled beneath his hand. “I want to be.”

  Zeke cupped her face and tried to read what lurked in the hazel depths of her eyes. All he saw were shadows and uncertainties, a common theme in his life the last five years. He knew he shouldn’t be with her, but for once he was going to do what his heart told him.

  God help him. He was listening to his heart.

  “You didn’t get hurt in the brawl, did you?” He tried to find a topic to keep his mind, and his body, from focusing on kissing her.

  “No, we hid behind the bar.” She smiled. “Thank you for coming to stop it again. You seem to be quite good at being a sheriff, for a new one, I mean.”

  He chuckled at her teasing. “I suppose. It ain’t hard, well I guess it is sometimes.” He pressed a hand to his aching ribs.

  “Are you all right? Gideon told me you were hurt.” She covered his hand with hers.

  “I’ll live.” He pulled her hand up and kissed the palm. Zeke felt a shiver snake through her at the touch of his lips.

  “I’m not sure what’s happening, Zeke.” She gazed at the palm of her hand. “Why did I come here?” she sounded as confused as he was.

  “Probably for the same reason I came to your bed.” Zeke’s body began to react to being closer to hers. It wasn’t just a sexual reaction, it was something else too. That something else was unidentifiable, and it scared him.

  Yet he didn’t ask her to leave.

  She nodded, her blonde hair sliding over the dress with a soft sound. “I’ve been fighting for survival for three years, and now it seems I have to fight for something else.”

  “What’s that?”

  She met his gaze. “My heart. You knocked me sideways, Sheriff, and I find myself liking it.”

  Zeke knew exactly what she meant. “I don’t want to be responsible for your heart, for anyone’s heart. The last year has brought me nothing but misery, and I can’t seem to get myself out of the hole I dug for myself. I don’t want to subject you to the same hell.” His voice had descended into a hoarse whisper full of emotion.

  She took his hand, her little fingers wrapping around his in comfort, bringing a lump to his throat.

  “I understand. Lucy told me about Allison. I’m so sorry.”

  The mention of Allison made his stomach clench. Once upon a time, she might have been his wife. Now she was just another ghost in his heart.

  “She’s
gone, and I’m still here. Now you’re here too.” He squeezed her hand. “I just want to be sure you understand I ain’t looking for anything from you.”

  Zeke sensed she didn’t believe a word he said, yet she remained silent. He hadn’t wanted a woman getting under his skin, but it was too late for that.

  “Kiss me.” Her husky command sent a shiver down his skin.

  “Are you sure?” He knew she should leave, get away before their sexual relationship continued, but he couldn’t seem to let go of her hand.

  “Kiss me.” This time her voice was firmer, and he obeyed.

  He lowered his head and kissed her, capturing her breath into his mouth, inhaling her essence. It began slowly, but the heat between them flared to life.

  Their previous encounters had been fierce matings, full of passion and animal instinct. This time it was gentle—for the first time they were making love.

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