Just A Little Bit Married?

Just A Little Bit Married?
Eileen Wilks

HUSBAND FOR HIRE?The secluded beach house was the perfect honeymoon hideaway. And Dr. Sara Grace was there with her real-life fantasy man. Except that the man she called "husband" really wasn't her spouse. Dark, brooding Raz Rasmussin had a very strong interest in Sara's body - in a professional sense, of course.Raz had been hired to guard Sara from a ruthless killer. So to better protect her, they pretended to be married. But then the "newlyweds" began their honeymoon very seriously. Trouble was, the last time the confirmed bachelor had mixed business with pleasure, the consequences had been fatal. Now, more than Sara's heart was at stake… .

“It will work best if we pretend to be newlyweds.” (#ubf2f5771-3377-5b0a-b6c1-26976dec4be9)Letter to Reader (#ufed5e200-28a5-54c8-8db7-427583a5137b)Title Page (#ue6796e89-f918-5b43-b358-7db80780afc3)About the Author (#u15461c8e-1049-555a-93e3-d8d4d13d37de)Dedication (#uebd9e355-4e87-5632-9efe-23cc9e1b6aa5)Chapter One (#u1e7b811d-39eb-530e-8f20-fee536e66ae2)Chapter Two (#u2a2600b9-f454-5265-9623-66a29438b05c)Chapter Three (#udf90b08c-ba86-51b3-bd24-aced4e541594)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

“It will work best if we pretend to be newlyweds.”

“No! No, that’s not a good idea. I’m not good at ... pretense. I won’t be able to fool anyone.”

“Listen, you don’t have to worry.” He was glad he could reassure her honestly. “I’m not going to take advantage of the situation. We may have to hold hands and look at each other all mushy-eyed in public, but leave that part to me.” He grinned. “I can lust in my heart with the best of ’em. But trust me. That’s where it will stay.”

“Oh,” she said in a small voice and, disappointed, she took the ring.

“I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he said, slowing as they neared the ferry that would take them to the island. “I promise.”

Darn the man and his stupid promises!

Dear Reader,

All of us at Silhouette Desire send you our best wishes for a joyful holiday season. December brings six original, deeply touching love stories warm enough to melt your heart!

This month, bestselling author Cait London continues her beloved miniseries THE TALLCHIEFS with the story of MAN OF THE MONTH Nick Palladin in The Perfect Fit. This corporate cowboy’s attempt to escape his family’s matchmaking has him escorting a Tallchief down the aisle. Silhouette Desire welcomes the cross-line continuity FOLLOW THAT BABY to the line with Elizabeth Bevarly’s The Sheriff and the Impostor Bride. And those irresistible bad-boy James brothers return in Cindy Gerard’s Marriage, Outlaw Style. part of the OUTLAW HEARTS miniseries. When a headstrong bachelor and his brassy-but-beautiful childhood rival get stranded, they wind up in a 6lb., 12oz. bundle of trouble!

Talented author Susan Crosby’s third book in THE LONE WOLVES miniseries, His Ultimate Temptation, will entrance you with this hero’s primitive, unyielding desire to protect his once-wife and their willful daughter. A rich playboy sweeps a sensible heroine from her humdrum life in Shawna Delacorte’s Cinderella story, The Millionaire’s Christmas Wish. And Eileen Wilks weaves an emotional, edge-of-your-seat drama about a fierce cop and the delicate lady who poses as his newlywed bride in Just a Little Bit Married?

These poignant, sensuous books fill any Christmas stocking—and every reader’s heart with the glow of holiday romance.

Enjoy!

Best regards,

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

Just A Little Bit Married?

Eileen Wilks

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

EILEEN WILKS is a fifth-generation Texan. Her great-great-grandmother came to Texas in a covered wagon shortly after the end of the Civil War—excuse us, the War Between the States. But she’s not a full-blooded Texan. Right after another war, her Texan father fell for a Yankee woman. This obviously mismatched pair proceeded to travel to nine cities in three countries in the first twenty years of their marriage, raising two kids and innumerable dogs and cats along the way. For the next twenty years they stayed put, back home in Texas again—and still together.

Eileen figures her professional career matches her nomadic upbringing, since she tried everything from drafting to a brief stint as a ranch hand—raising two children and any number of cats and dogs along the way. Not until she started writing did she “stay put,” because that’s when she knew she’d come home. Readers can write to her at P.O. Box 4612, Midland, TX 79704-4612.

This book is for all my buddies in the Romance Forum at

Compuserve, and especially for Silke, Sherry and

Bonnie, who helped with motorcycles, blood, bullets and

other emergencies. Hi, guys!

One

He dreamed of snow and cold and blood.

Raz was naked when the phone rang that December morning. His covers lay on the floor where he’d kicked them at some point during the restless night. His skin was chilled, clammy, and he told himself that was why he’d dreamed of the cold again.

But he knew better. He knew what the cold meant, and where the blood had come from.

The phone rang again. He groped for it as he sat up. “Rasmussin,” he muttered, reaching automatically for the cigarettes and lighter that should be right beside the phone. Then he remembered. He’d quit. Two months and three days and—he glanced at the clock—seven hours ago, he’d quit smoking. He cursed tiredly.

“Good morning to you, too,” his brother said.

Raz rubbed a hand over his chest, where some of the cold from the dream seemed to be lodged. The warmth from his hand didn’t dispel it. “It’s seven-fifteen,” he said irritably. “You want to know how much sleep I’ve had?”

“Not especially,” Tom said. The slight hiss of static told Raz that Tom was on his cellular phone. “I want you to drag your lazy butt out of bed and listen. Javiero got to one of my witnesses last night. The orderly.”

“Damn.” Raz might not be on the H.P.D. payroll at the moment, but the habit of years was too strong to break. Houston was his city. He kept up with what happened in it, so he knew which case Tom was talking about. Three weeks ago bullets had filled a local emergency room when Javiero and two other members of the Padres “deposed” their current leader. Four people were killed, three others injured.

The press and the public dubbed it the worst outbreak of gang violence yet, perhaps because it happened on supposedly safe territory, away from the Padres’ turf. Because of the uproar, the case had come to Tom in Special Investigations. Tom’s task force had since caught up with the other two gunmen, but Javiero was still loose. “Is the orderly dead?”

“What do you think? Javiero went right to the guy’s home with that Uzi of his. The bullets damn near cut my witness in half. The neighbor who was talking to him when the little bastard opened up is in critical condition.”

“Damn.” Reluctantly Raz faced the fact that he was wide awake at seven-fifteen in the morning and there were no cigarettes in the apartment. For the thousandth time he wondered why he’d picked this time to quit. “You have other witnesses.”

“One of them suffered a severe loss of memory after he heard about the shooting last night.”

“And the other?”

“She’s sticking.” There was satisfaction in Tom’s voice. “Even though she’s scared spitless, and with reason. I don’t have the manpower to get her the kind of round-the-clock protection she needs until we catch up with Javiero.”

An alarm went off in Raz’s mind. “Tom, I don’t—”

“I’ve persuaded her to hire a bodyguard. She’s a doctor, so she can afford it.”

“Fine. Great. Have you suggested North’s agency? They’re reliable.”

“You claim you want to go private. Of course, we both know that’s just an excuse to sit around in your underwear and watch your toenails grow. How many jobs have you turned down this month?”