The Quiet Storm

The Quiet Storm
RaeAnne Thayne

Beautiful heiress Elizabeth Quinn really had a medical excuse for having a hard time making conversation. But even if she hadn't, heart-stoppingly handsome detective Beau Riley might have left her tongue-tied.Still, Elizabeth needed the good detective. There had been a murder, and it affected the beloved little boy in her care. So speak with him she must. If only she were sure her traitorous heart would leave it at that….Beau had already tried to get somewhere with Elizabeth–and all it had gotten him was the cold shoulder. And now, suddenly, because she needed his help, she was pursuing him? His head was telling him to get out while the getting was good.Unfortunately, his heart was giving him a different message entirely….

Beau muttered a curse and captured her mouth with his.

Elizabeth sighed and settled against him. The kiss was soft and sweet. His skin was warm and smelled of his cologne, and she inhaled it deeply into her lungs while her mouth caressed his.

Under other circumstances she would rather have her derriere tattooed with a snake than be caught in the middle of an embrace like this where any stranger might see them.

But how could she step away when she had thought about being in his arms like this, secretly yearned for it, for so many months now? When she had imagined this kiss so many times—and was discovering that the reality of it far, far exceeded any fantasy?

She would have to go back to her dull, insular existence soon enough. For now, she wanted to savor every second.

The Quiet Storm

RaeAnne Thayne

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

RAEANNE THAYNE

lives in a graceful old Victorian nestled in the rugged mountains of Northern Utah, along with her husband and two young children. Her books have won numerous honors, including a RITA

Award nomination by the Romance Writers of America. RaeAnne loves to hear from readers. She can be reached through her Web site at www.raeannethayne.com or at P.O. Box 6682, North Logan, UT 84341.

To speech therapists everywhere.

Special thanks to Robert Hale, editor of the Waggoner Cruising Guide, for his invaluable help to this dedicated landlubber about all things nautical.

Contents

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

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 1

The ice princess was nervous.

From his post by the door of the precinct break room, Beau Riley watched the woman perched on a plastic molded chair in front of his desk. She sat prim as a schoolgirl, with spine-cracking posture—knees perfectly aligned, shoulders back, those huge blue eyes focused neither to the right nor the left.

He might have thought she was carved from a thin glacial sheer except for her hands, which trembled ever so slightly.

No. Scratch that, he corrected himself, looking a little closer. She was more than nervous. She was scared to death. Elizabeth Quinn, multigazillionaire publishing heiress, looked ready to jump right out of her skin.

He had to admit he wanted to let her stew in it a little longer, let her sit there until perspiration popped out on that lush, perfect lip, until she was as jumpy as a grasshopper on a hot sidewalk.

The vindictiveness of the impulse startled him. Was his ego really so fragile?

Maybe. He had plenty of reason to dislike this particular rich bitch.

Still, curiosity was a far stronger element of his psyche than petty vengeance. He had to find out. What the hell was she doing perched at the desk of one of Seattle PD’s finest? What would possibly make the ice princess come down from her crystal palace to mingle with the rest of the world?

Whatever she was doing here, he wouldn’t find out unless he talked to her. With one hand fisted around the handle of his favorite Sonics coffee mug, he sauntered to his desk and loomed over her.

As he neared, she drew a deep breath as if gearing up for a firing squad, then she lifted her gaze to his. He wanted to think he saw an instant of shocked recognition in those cool-blue eyes, then she shielded whatever emotion might be lurking there.

“May I help you?” he asked, his voice sharp as an ice pick.

She blinked a little at his tone, and those pretty white hands fluttered just once then tightened on the strap of a slim little nothing of a purse he was willing to bet cost more than his month’s salary.

“Are you…” Her voice faltered and she closed her eyes. After a few seconds she opened them again. He was intrigued to see that the nervousness had given way to determination. “Are you Detective Riley?”

So it wasn’t a mistake. She was here looking for him. He narrowed his eyes as his curiosity kicked up a notch. Last time he’d seen her, she hadn’t been nearly as eager to talk to him.

“Yeah. I’m Riley. Who wants to know?” He couldn’t resist asking the question, even though he knew exactly who she was.