The Missing Maitland

The Missing Maitland
Stella Bagwell

He'd been in dangerous situations before…But Luke Maitland had never put another person at risk–until Blossom Woodward, the controversial TV reporter, happened into the line of fire meant for him. He had saved her life; then he'd had to take her with him into hiding.She called it kidnapping. She didn't trust the man who said his name was Larkin–and insisted that he was protecting her–one bit. Sure, he was kind and brave and…well…gorgeous and sexy, but he was lying through his teeth! She certainly couldn't be falling in love with him, a man whose real name she didn't even know–could she?

“You’re a virgin?” Luke interrupted, his expression one of total disbelief.

She made a palms-up gesture. “Well, yes. Why should that be so shocking?”

He stared at her. She’d never made love to a man, yet she clearly wanted to give herself to him. He felt wildly flattered, but more than that, he was shaken. Being a virgin at her age meant she was saving herself for marriage, or at the very least for the man she loved. The notion that she was setting her sights on him was a problem. One he had to deal with before they both did something they would regret.

“What you are isn’t the problem,” he said firmly. “It’s what I’m going to do with you now that worries me.”

She stared at him, her eyes wide, and then suddenly she smiled. “Oh,” she breathed with blissful anticipation. “Are you going to make love to me?”

The Missing Maitland

Stella Bagwell

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

To Shirley,

A devoted fan

STELLA BAGWELL

sold her first book to Silhouette in 1985. More than forty novels later, she says she isn’t completely content unless she’s writing. Recently she and her husband of thirty years moved from the hills of Oklahoma to Seadrift, Texas. Stella says the water, the tropical climate and the seabirds make it a lovely place to let her imagination soar, and put the stories in her head down on paper.

She and her husband have one son, Jason, who lives and teaches high school math in nearby Port Lavaca.

THE MAITLANDS:

MEGAN MAITLAND:

Matriarch of the Maitland family. Her life had been filled with sorrow, excitement and joy. Once she was reunited with her long-lost son, she’d thought all would be well. But now strange things were happening at her clinic, and she wasn’t sure who was behind the mystery. Was her dream of a maternity clinic going to fail?

JANELLE MAITLAND:

The oldest of black sheep Robert Maitland’s children. Ambitious and grasping, she’d stolen and blackmailed and lied to gain the Maitland money. She’d been captured and sent to jail, but has broken out. Could she be behind the incidents? And was she representative of all the prodigal Maitlands?

RAFE MAITLAND:

The youngest of Robert’s children. Hardworking rancher. He’d always lived life alone, but in the past few months he’d acquired a daughter—and a wife! Now he would do anything to protect his family….

LAURA MAITLAND:

Robert’s third child. Vulnerable new mother. She’d swallowed her pride to ask for help with her child. She’d vowed never to depend on another man again, but Mick Hannon was very hard to resist….

LUKE MAITLAND:

Robert’s second child. Luke was a loner with secrets in his past and his present. Although he was working as the gardener at the clinic, it was clear that his real occupation was much more dangerous. But even investigative reporter Blossom Woodward couldn’t find out anything about his past. Or his future…

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter One

“Who the hell are you, mister?”

The man behind the steering wheel shifted his gaze from the truck’s rearview mirror to the woman in the passenger seat. He could say one thing for her, if she was feeling any fear, she was darn good at hiding it. Or maybe the young blonde sitting across from him didn’t have enough sense to realize that only a few minutes ago on the grounds of the Maitland Maternity clinic, she’d come very close to losing her life.

“I’m a groundskeeper for the clinic,” he answered automatically.

Which was true enough, he thought. For the past two weeks, he’d been working as a yardman for the clinic. He just hadn’t bothered to let anyone know he’d been doing more than mowing grass and snipping shrubs.

Sarcasm twisted the woman’s glossed lips. “I didn’t realize Austin was getting so violent that groundskeepers had taken to carrying concealed weapons.”

He focused on the merging traffic in front of them before glancing once again in the rearview mirror. So far the gunmen were nowhere in sight. He believed he’d given them the slip about five blocks back, but in this evening rush hour traffic, he couldn’t be sure. And he wasn’t about to let down his guard. Especially now that he had someone else’s life to consider rather than just his own.

“You better be glad I had a gun on me, lady. Otherwise you and I might be dead right now.”

Just as she shivered in her seat, he darted another glance her way. Blossom Woodward. She was the single reason, his only motivation, for coming to Austin. To track down the woman whose fresh face appeared every day on Tattle Today TV. She’d been sticking that pretty nose of hers into his past and now her digging had thrown both of them into mortal danger.

In his line of work, he’d learned many times over that people could never be judged by their outward appearance. Yet now, as he looked at her sitting only inches away, it was difficult, even disillusioning, for him to imagine that such a delicious-looking set of lips could spew such vicious gossip.

Across the seat from him, Blossom swallowed convulsively but still managed to keep her chin thrust resistantly upward. “I’m not so sure those shots were fired at us. Or even if they were gunshots. You were so busy throwing me down to the ground, I doubt you know yourself!”

He jammed on the brakes to avoid crashing into the back of a double-parked delivery van, then, cursing under his breath, he gunned the truck into the left line of traffic. An insulted driver behind them leaned on his horn. Up ahead, the four-lane street was boggled with evening commuters. She got the impression that he expected those to part and allow them passage, like the Red Sea parting for Moses.

“Don’t kid yourself, lady. Those were bullets flying around your pretty head, not exploding firecrackers.”