Men Made in America Mega-Bundle

by Gayle Wilson, Marie Ferrarella, Jennifer Greene, Annette Broadrick, Judith Arnold, Rita Herron, Anne Stuart, Diana Palmer, Elizabeth Bevarly, Patricia Rosemoor, Emilie Richards

  “Sorry the place is such a mess. I haven’t been here much lately.” He grabbed clothes and newspapers and shoved aside an empty can of dog food as he tried to clear a path to the sofa.

  He saw Veronica take in the sparse furnishings, the tattered, out-of-date sofa, the socks balled up on the floor. “Looks like you need a housekeeper,” she said.

  Their gazes locked. Nathan grinned. “I need more than that.”

  He saw the hesitation in her eyes and wished he could retract his statement. “I’ll check my messages and get my wallet,” he said quickly, and left the room. He returned to find Veronica staring at a photo of his parents.

  “They died a few years ago,” he said quietly. “A car wreck.”

  “No brothers or sisters?”

  “Nope, just me.”

  She placed the photo back on the scarred-pine end table. “I’m sorry. I know how that can be.”

  Feeling uneasy at the sympathy brimming in her eyes, he motioned her to the door. “Come on, let’s go eat.”

  As they drove to the restaurant, Veronica watched the buzz of cars rush by, heard the sound of horns and engines. She imagined what her life would be like without the chaos she’d encountered since she’d arrived in Oakland. In Florida, she’d felt some semblance of being a normal, respected attorney. There, no one knew about her past.

  Here, she felt like one of the yellow traffic lights that were now blinking and blowing in the wind, warning people to approach with caution. Perhaps she should forget her search into her past. Perhaps she should go back to Florida.

  And to Ron. Where everything was safe.

  She stared at Nathan’s strong, chiseled profile, and a sliver of desire curled low in her belly. She could still feel the imprint of his touch when he’d held her. His strong masculine scent invaded her senses, reminding her that he was a man of action and power, not one who wanted to impress people. An honest man, one who protected and served the people, one who put his own life on the line for the sake of the town.

  How could she ever go back to Ron after knowing Nathan? And how could she leave Oakland without confronting the very past she’d been running from all her life?

  “I hope you like spicy food,” Nathan said, pulling into the parking lot. “The Kung Pau chicken is delicious.”

  “Sounds great.” Veronica wet her lips with her tongue, a shiver of excitement skittering up her spine as she noticed him watch the movement. He put the car in Park and turned to her, his silent perusal straining her already-taut nerves.

  “What?” she finally asked.

  He shook his head. The look of need she’d seen a few minutes earlier disappeared, and she wondered if she’d imagined it. “Nothing. Let’s go.”

  A few minutes later they were seated in the dimly lit oriental parlor where Chinese lanterns and fans adorned the walls. A huge aquarium filled with colorful fish kept small children entertained while they waited for their food, and soft oriental music played in the background. Veronica relaxed and studied the menu.

  “Let’s share a couple of entrées,” Nathan said.

  Let’s share more. She bit her lip, shocked at her own thoughts. “Sure. The Kung Pau chicken and what else?”

  “You choose.”

  Veronica smiled. “Snow pea shrimp.”

  Nathan closed the menu. “Sounds great.” The waiter approached to take their order.

  “Egg rolls?” he asked.

  “Of course,” Veronica said. “And sweet and sour soup.”

  “Egg drop soup for me,” Nathan said.

  “Wine, sir?”

  Nathan arched an eyebrow.

  “I’d like a glass of Chablis,” Veronica said.

  “The same for me.” He grinned. “Well, it seems we have compatible appetites.”

  “Looks that way.” She patted her stomach. “And I’m starving.”

  Nathan’s gaze raked over her attire, lingering for a long moment on her casual silk T-shirt, then sweeping up her neck to focus on her mouth.

  Veronica cleared her throat, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “I meant I was hungry for food.”

  He leaned back in the chair and broke into laughter. The rich, deep sound filled Veronica with a heady sense of power. He covered her hand with his, and she stared at the rough, callused skin and golden hair covering his knuckles, then glanced back up at his face. His laughter died, but a slow lopsided smile curved on his lips that was so sexy she was tempted to reach out and trace his mouth with her fingers. Instead, he turned her hand over so he could look at her palm.

  “Tell me about yourself,” he said quietly.

  Veronica tensed, and he gently traced circles in the center of her palm with his finger. “You already know everything.”

  He paused, tilted her face to his and smiled with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with his hard features. The tender gleam in his eyes filled her heart with mushy thoughts she knew she shouldn’t be thinking.

  “I know some of your past,” he said in a low voice. “But tell me about living with your grandmother. Tell me about school and why you decided to be an attorney. Tell me what you like to do—besides work.”

  “Oh.”

  “Relax, Veronica. This isn’t an inquisition.” He squeezed her hand. The warm sincerity in his touch only heated her desire for more. “I’d like to know you—the Veronica that isn’t being taunted by some lunatic.”

  She forced a smile, grateful the waiter interrupted with wine and their egg rolls and soup. Reluctantly she pulled out of Nathan’s hand to take a sip of her wine.

  “Well, my grandmother was a sweet woman, a little old-fashioned.”

  “That must have made it hard when you were a teenager?”

  “What?” Veronica suddenly wondered if this was an inquisition. She had too many secrets to hide, too many things she wasn’t proud of.

  “I figured she was strict, you know, about dating.”

  “Oh, yeah. She was. But she was fair.”

  “She was good to you?” He wiped a drop of soup from the corner of his mouth, and Veronica shuddered inside.

  “Yes, she was great. She encouraged me to…to see a counselor when I was little.”

  Nathan paused, his spoon near his mouth. “Did that help?”

  She avoided his probing stare. “Some, I guess. The nightmares went away for a while. Then I got involved in school activities and things were better.”

  “Let me guess—cheerleader?”

  Veronica laughed. “Hardly. I was on the swim team.”

  “Wow, I’m impressed.”

  “You should be. I beat Ray Winterbottom every time.”

  “Who was he? Your boyfriend?”

  “No way. He was a computer genius.” She smiled and sipped some more wine. “Probably a millionaire by now.”

  Nathan grew silent and Veronica wondered if she’d said something wrong.

  “And what about law school?”

  “Easy,” she said. “I wanted to be like my dad.”

  The sudden silence between them was filled with tension. “I can’t get away from it,” Veronica finally said. “I have to face it so I can go on.”

  “Is that why you came back to Oakland?”

  “Yes. I’ve always had the nightmares. But when my grandmother died, it was like it was all happening again. That feeling of losing someone—I had to come back.”

  The waiter interrupted and brought their entrées. Nathan took a bite, then sighed. “I talked to Scroggins, the officer in charge of your parents’ case.”

  Her fingers tightened on her fork. “What did he say?”

  “Not much.” Nathan chewed another biteful of food. “I wondered if all this might be connected to your father’s death. Perhaps a case he’d worked on. So I asked him about your dad’s files. There weren’t any backups.”

  “I figured as much.” Veronica’s mind started spinning. “Do you really think all this might be connected to one of Dad’s cases?”

  Nathan shrugged. “I
don’t know. So far, none of your cases from Florida show anything suspicious. I’d say right now we’ve got three possibilities. Your old boyfriend—”

  “It’s not Ron,” Veronica said matter-of-factly.

  Nathan arched an eyebrow and frowned.

  “I really don’t think it is, but go on.”

  “Barrett.”

  “That’s possible,” she conceded. “Although if he’s doing it for revenge, it’s a pretty intricate plan. Even with what he lost, the man did get away with a sizable amount of money.”

  “You’re right,” Nathan said. “But revenge is a strong motivation for a lot of people.”

  “Okay, any other theories?”

  “Maybe we should pursue your dad’s old cases. Only problem is we don’t have his files.”

  Veronica snapped her fingers. “No, we don’t. But I do have a couple of boxes of memorabilia my grandma saved for me. There might be something in there.”

  “Where are the boxes?”

  “At my apartment.”

  “And you know what’s inside?”

  Her heart skipped a beat at the thought that she might have hit on something to help. “I’ve never opened them.”

  Nathan tossed back his wine and held out his hand. “Feel like taking a look?”

  Veronica smiled and summoned her courage. She’d come to Oakland to deal with her past. The odd circumstances surrounding her had frightened her, but she was tired of being scared and alone. It was time for her to take control of her life.

  Nathan seemed like a man she could trust, at least with her past. But with her future, she wasn’t sure. She’d have to be careful not to fall for him, to guard her heart as she always had. He was a man who lived with danger every day, a man who was too experienced for her, a man who would move on when her case was over. If she got too close to him, he’d break her heart.

  Besides, even if there was nothing in the boxes to help find her father’s killer or discover who was threatening her, going through the boxes might help her move on with her life. She accepted Nathan’s outstretched hand and twined her fingers with his, just as the waiter brought their fortune cookies. “I guess it’s about time.”

  He released her hand and broke open his fortune cookie. Veronica did the same, pausing when Nathan chuckled.

  “What does it say?” she asked.

  He grinned and kissed her fingertips. “It says romance is at your fingertips. How about yours?”

  Veronica tensed as she unfolded the slip of paper. She instantly refolded it and started to stuff it in her pocket. “Hey, let’s see,” he said, taking it from her. He eased the paper open and read aloud, “Honesty is the key to obtaining trust.”

  ON THE DRIVE HOME, Nathan tried to divert his eyes from Veronica and how tempting she looked in that sexy bit of a top and the way it clung to her breasts. And he tried to forget how nervous the fortune cookie had made her. Was she nervous because she was keeping something from him? Glancing into the rearview mirror, he noticed a dark sedan behind them. Were they being followed?

  He made a quick turn at the red light to see. The sedan turned also. He tried to make out the driver, but the windows were tinted and the sedan stayed just far enough behind them that he couldn’t get a make on the car. He eased up to a stop sign and flipped on his left turn indicator. The driver slowed and flipped on his turn signal. Nathan gritted his teeth. He was growing tired of the game. Speeding up, he pulled into the other lane and soared through a red light. The car turned at the stop light and he left it behind.

  “Was that car following us?” Veronica asked.

  “I’m not sure. I thought so.” Nathan ran a hand over his face, deciding he must be paranoid, then mentally ticked off the things he needed to do on the investigation. Follow up with the man in Florida he’d asked to check out Ron Cox. Follow up on Barrett’s whereabouts. Find out whose, if any, fingerprints turned up in Veronica’s apartment, check with the locksmith Louise Falk had used. He paused as a thought struck him. Perhaps he should also check up on Louise Falk. After all, she had had access to Veronica’s keys. And as her secretary, she could get to her files. Except the ones she kept at home. Unless those were only backup disks and she had the information on her hard drive at work. Hmm. Something to think about.

  And find out what connection Gerald Jones had to Barrett. Come to think of it, he’d seen Gerald talking to Louise at the party at Eli’s that night.

  “Thanks for dinner,” Veronica said, breaking into his thoughts.

  “It was great,” Nathan said as he pulled into her complex. He stopped and faced her. “You really want to go through those boxes?”

  “Yes.” She smiled, and he remembered the picture of her standing at her parents’ graveside. She was a courageous woman. He couldn’t begin to imagine what her life had been like.

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  She shook her head. “I know you’ve heard a lot of things about me, so if there is something in there about my father’s work, I want you to see it.”

  Nathan’s throat closed. He wanted to believe her so badly he ached. “Then let’s go.”

  Veronica opened the door and they walked silently to her apartment. “You know, when I first moved here I couldn’t get used to the cool weather. Most of the leaves had already fallen to the ground.”

  Nathan laughed. “I guess it is a switch from Florida.”

  “But now I like the idea of a change in seasons.” She stopped and stared at the bare trees. “It looks so desolate without the leaves. But when spring comes and the flowers bloom, it must be beautiful.”

  A soft breeze picked up the strands of her hair and tossed them around her face. Nathan slowly reached out and moved them back, tucking them behind her ear, certain he’d never seen a more beautiful sight. “Spring is beautiful,” he said quietly, realizing this year would be the first time she would experience the magnificent season and remember it. He imagined her standing underneath a blossoming dogwood tree with its dainty white buds showering around her.

  Looking through her father’s things would be hard for her. He only hoped he could be around when spring finally came for her.

  WHILE VERONICA unlocked her apartment door, they heard the phone ringing. By the time they entered, the answering machine had clicked on and he heard a man’s agitated voice.

  “Veronica, this is Ron. I really wish you were home.”

  She bit her lip and he stood behind her, watching her reaction.

  The man continued in a rush, his voice growing more and more irritated. “I don’t know why you haven’t returned any of my calls, but I want to talk to you. It’s been eight weeks now. For all I know, you could have fallen off the face of the—”

  Veronica clicked off the machine, grabbed the phone and turned away from him. “I’m here, Ron.” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry I haven’t called, but my schedule’s been crazy and I had to get settled and…”

  She rattled on with excuses, and Nathan folded his arms, wondering what Ron was saying on the other end of the line.

  “No, don’t come here,” she said. “Listen, Ron, I really can’t talk now.”

  A long pause followed. Veronica lowered her voice.

  “Yes.” She glanced at him nervously. “It’s business, Ron. Can I call you back?”

  Business, huh? He had a feeling they both knew there was more than business going on between the two of them.

  “Okay, tell Mr. Raddison I’ll give him a call.” She hung up and brushed her hands down her skirt.

  “Who’s Raddison?”

  “He’s one of the men I represent in the retirement community. He thinks someone’s trying to scam them.”

  “Sounds like a job for the police.”

  “I’ll talk to them tomorrow. I can’t let those older people suffer.”

  Nathan thought of her grandmother and how much Veronica must miss her. “If I can do anything to help, let me know.”

  “Thanks.”
>
  He frowned. “So, is Cox coming here?”

  Veronica shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She turned, obviously avoiding the issue. “I’ll find those boxes.”

  Nathan nodded. He halfway hoped Cox would show up. He’d like to talk to the man himself. And if he had anything to do with the threats on Veronica, he would do a whole lot more than talk.

  Chapter Nine

  Veronica dragged three boxes into the living room and knelt beside them. The plain brown boxes were sealed with shipping tape, nondescript in every way. But they held precious fragments of a life she remembered nothing about.

  “I understand why I blocked out that night,” she said, as she cut open the tape. “But I still don’t know why I can’t recall the earlier years. There must be some happy memories there, too.”

  “Who knows?” Nathan lowered himself beside her, then squeezed her hand. Veronica gazed into his eyes and accepted the strength he offered. “Maybe you’ll find out when you look inside.”

  She wondered if it were possible. She’d hoped seeing the old house would trigger her memory, but it had only given her the creeps, just as the music box had. What if the same thing happened when she opened the box of keepsakes? What if she found something to confirm the fact that she was responsible for her parents’ deaths?

  She released Nathan’s hand, but hers shook so badly he took the scissors from her and opened the boxes himself. When he finished he placed his hands on his knees and waited. “Take your time, Veronica. It’s okay,” he said quietly.

  Veronica lifted the sheets of tissue paper covering the contents and looked inside. The first box had a family picture on top. She pulled it out and examined the faces. Her mother had been a beautiful woman. She had Veronica’s same dark hair and slender build with porcelain skin, a dainty nose and brown eyes. Her father was handsome, with light brown hair, a mustache and hazel eyes that held a commanding look. His nose was prominent and his jaw wide. He’d been a tall man, almost overshadowing her mother’s small frame. She favored her mother more than her father.

  She was wearing a frilly blue dress and was sitting in her father’s lap. Her mother stood behind them with her hand on her dad’s shoulder. It amazed her that she could see the three of them together, but she had no recollection of posing for the picture.