House of Strangers

House of Strangers
Carolyn McSparren

When Paul Bouvet buys the old Delaney mansion, everyone in Rossiter, Tennessee, wonders what the big-city pilot is really after in their backwoods town. But Paul can't reveal what he hopes to find in Rossiter. If people learn the truth, his task will be even more difficult. In fact, the good citizens may even run him out of town.Then he hires Ann Corrigan to help restore his new property and finds himself falling in love with her. Suddenly his secret is at risk–as well as his life. And the closer he gets to Ann, the more crucial the truth becomes….

All he has to do is prove it

Paul Bouvet had discovered on his first trip to Rossiter that the café next door to the Delaney mansion functioned as a sort of town club. He’d have to find some way to be—if not accepted—at least tolerated by the locals who ate there regularly. If his mother had come as far as Rossiter before she disappeared, someone might remember seeing her. After all, thirty years ago there couldn’t have been too many strangers showing up in Rossiter.

He didn’t have a clue how to find out. He didn’t dare come straight out and ask. Nobody could know who he was or why he was there. The P.I. his uncle had hired had never been able to trace Michelle Bouvet’s movements beyond the bus station in downtown Memphis. The trail had gone cold at that point and had stayed cold until six months ago.

Now—all these years later—Paul finally believed he knew what had happened to his mother. He just had to find the proof.

Dear Reader,

What kind of man abandons his young wife, then kills her when she finds him six years later? What kind of son would that man father?

Those questions have tortured Paul Bouvet his entire life. Now at last he has the means to answer them.

Paul buys the derelict Delaney mansion in the tiny town of Rossiter, Tennessee, and begins to restore it purely to give himself a cover. He wants revenge against his father’s family, the wealthy, arrogant Delaney clan.

But he begins to lose his taste for revenge after he meets Ann Corrigan, the art restorer who’s bringing his mansion back to life. And teaching Paul what it’s like to have love in his life.

But can he abandon the vow he made to his late mother’s family? If not, can he endure losing Ann?

To find the answers to these questions, read on. I hope you enjoy the journey.

Carolyn McSparren

House of Strangers

Carolyn MCSparren

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

To Betty Salmon, who gave me permission

to use the name of the Wolf River Café—

it really exists, although the people came out of my head.

To Eve Gaddy, a wonderful writer,

who suggested the idea and graciously let me use it.

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

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

Early March

“I’M SORRY TREY sold the house to a stranger,” Ann Corrigan said as she hooked her foot under a rung of her bar stool at the counter of the Wolf River Café. “Not that I really blame him. What else could he do?”

“Two years on the market without a nibble. I guess he could have burned it down and collected the insurance,” Bernice Jones answered. She ran a clean rag over the counter. “You want breakfast?”

“Just some iced tea, please. I would have bought the place myself if I had the money and could afford to fix it up.”

“What would you do with a big place like that?” Bernice shook her head, picked up a mason jar, filled it with ice and tea, then set it down in front of Ann. “It’s about ready to fall down. Trey jumped at that fool’s offer, don’t you think he didn’t.”

Ann peered across the counter. “Bernice, don’t you have any lemon?”

“If you’ll hold your horses, I’ll cut you some. The tea’s barely had time to steep.” Bernice reached for a wicked-looking paring knife, picked up a lemon and began slicing it with speed and accuracy. “Bet you couldn’t get iced tea this time of the morning up in Buffalo, could you?”

“Half the time I couldn’t get iced tea in the middle of the day up there. They have this weird idea that iced tea is for hot weather and never for breakfast. And they never even heard of sweet tea.”

“Ought to be glad you finished that job and got yourself back down south. You must be sick of blizzards.”