The Stranger Next Door

The house was quiet except for the pounding of Langley’s heart. He had told himself over and over the reasons he shouldn’t make love to Danielle, but right now he couldn’t remember one of them. He couldn’t think at all, not with her mouth on his. His body was going crazy with a hunger that robbed him of control and scared him to death.

She wanted him. He wanted her, wanted her so desperately that just her kiss seared into his very soul. He couldn’t understand his feelings for her. They had come on so fast and so strong, so different from anything he’d experienced before. All he knew was that he had to make love with her before they had no time left.…

Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

Sunscreen, a poolside lounge—and Harlequin Intrigue: the perfect recipe for great summer escapes!

This month’s sizzling selection begins with The Stranger Next Door (#573) by Joanna Wayne, the second in her RANDOLPH FAMILY TIES miniseries. Langley Randolph is the kind of Texan who can’t resist a woman in trouble. Can he help unlock a beautiful stranger’s memories…before a killer catches up with her first?

Little Penny Drake is an Innocent Witness (#574) to a murder in this suspenseful yet tender story by Leona Karr. The child’s desperate mother, Deanna, seeks the help of Dr. Steve Sherman. Can Steve unlock her daughter’s secrets…and Deanna’s heart?

Dr. Jonas Shades needs a woman to play his wife. Cathlynn O’Connell is the perfect candidate, but with time running out, he has no choice but to blackmail his bride. Each minute in Jonas’s presence brings Cathlynn closer to understanding her enigmatic “husband” and closer to danger! Don’t miss Blackmailed Bride (#575) by Sylvie Kurtz.

Bestselling Harlequin American Romance author Tina Leonard joins Harlequin Intrigue with a story of spine-tingling suspense and dramatic romance. She’s created the small town of Crookseye Canyon, Texas, as the backdrop for A Man of Honor (#576). Cord Greer must marry his brother’s woman to keep her and her unborn baby safe. But is it fear that drives Tessa Draper into Cord’s arms, or is it something more than Cord had hoped for?

Indulge yourself and find out this summer—and all year long!

Sincerely,

Denise O’Sullivan

Associate Senior Editor

Harlequin Intrigue

The Stranger Next Door

Joanna Wayne

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Everyone loves a cowboy, and Joanna Wayne is no exception. Although she lives just a few miles from steamy, exciting New Orleans, she always enjoys her trips to the neighboring state of Texas. While there, she delights in becoming just one of the hands. From riding the range to rounding up cattle by helicopter, she finds plenty to keep her busy and lots of wonderful plot ideas to enhance her stories of romance and suspense. She is sure that as long as there are rugged men who love their cattle, their land and their lifestyle, there will be women who fall in love with them. The fact that the cowboys look so sexy in their boots, jeans and Stetsons is only icing on the cake. You can write to Joanna at P.O. Box 2851, Harvey, LA 70059.

Books by Joanna Wayne

HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE

288—DEEP IN THE BAYOU

339—BEHIND THE MASK

389—EXTREME HEAT

444—FAMILY TIES*

471—JODIE’S LITTLE SECRETS

495—ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS

505—LONE STAR LAWMAN

537—MEMORIES AT MIDNIGHT

569—THE SECOND SON*

573—THE STRANGER NEXT DOOR*

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Danielle—A sexy Cajun lady with a past she can’t remember and a killer on her trail.

Langley Randolph—The neighboring rancher who’ll do whatever he has to in order to keep Danielle safe.

Ryder Randolph—Langley’s younger brother. He likes Danielle, but is afraid she will cause Langley trouble.

Milton Maccabbee—Danielle’s uncle and the owner of the Running Deer Ranch, which borders the Randolph spread. He’s dead but still luring Danielle into a web of danger.

Joshua Kincaid—He has his fingers in a lot of pies and they may not all be legal.

Wade Hernandez—Joshua Kincaid’s ranch foreman, but he may be following his own agenda.

Samuel Drummer—He’s afraid of losing his fiancé.

Corky Westmorland—Milton’s stepson. He wants the Running Deer for himself.

Riff—The cantankerous old ranch hand who shows up where you least expect him.

A special thanks to Dr. Cavanaugh and his lovely wife, Donna, for always taking the time to answer my plot-related medical questions. To my grandchildren, who just by being themselves, inspire me to create adorable fictional children. And to Wayne, always.

Contents

Prologue

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

Prologue

Danielle strolled down a side street of the famed New Orleans French Quarter. She shifted the bulk of her packages from one shoulder to the other and stretched the muscles in her neck. She was tired from the tips of her toes to the top of her head, but it was a good kind of tired. She’d spent the day sightseeing and shopping.

And, of course, eating. Sugary beignets, steaming café au lait, shrimp po-boy sandwiches. By late afternoon, when she’d finally eaten and shopped her way from Jackson Square to the far end of Royal Street, she’d ducked into an open-air café and treated herself to a rum-and-punch drink that tasted far more innocent than it felt. She was just a tad giddy now, ready for a quick shower before she collapsed in front of the TV.

By this time tomorrow, she’d be in Kelman, Texas. She’d be opening long-shut closets and rattling family skeletons that might be better left hidden away. She’d have been there today if she’d known her friend Beth was going to have to rush out of town on an unexpected family emergency. But there was no reason to change her flight plans. The day’s break gave her a chance to spend time in one of her favorite cities.

She stopped at the corner to get her bearings. Her hotel was nearby—at least she thought it was. Fishing in her pocket, she pulled out the map she’d picked up at the hotel. She unfolded it, manhandling the unwieldy square of paper until she could catch enough illumination from the streetlight.

Running her finger down the crease, she located the X that marked the location of the hotel. It was two blocks west of where she was standing and one block back toward the river. About two blocks more than she felt like walking but not far enough to justify taking a taxi.

She turned down the side street, the most direct route. It was the same street she’d taken this morning when she’d left the hotel, but it looked different at dusk. Without the warming glow of the sun, the century-old buildings were stark and intimidating. Worse, the daytime crowd had gone home and the night revelers hadn’t appeared on the scene.

Actually, there was no one around except a skinny guy leaning against a balcony support post a few yards in front of her. He stared at her openly and then took the cigarette that dangled from his mouth and dropped it to the street, grinding it beneath the toe of his scuffed shoe.

The concierge’s warning ran through her mind. The Quarter is safe as long as you stay on the main streets, the ones populated with tourists.

Apprehension quickened her pulse. She considered going back the way she had come, but the man turned and disappeared inside a doorway right behind him.

She stopped at the corner, then crossed the street. One more block to the river. A boat whistle blasted in the distance. A series of car horns blared from the direction of Canal Street and footsteps sounded behind her. She spun around just as a man’s arm wrapped around her neck.

“Let go of me!” His fist pounded against her skull. She stamped her feet and tried to twist free, but the man’s grip was like iron. “Who are you? What do you want?”

He hit her again, and then she saw the blade of his knife. She kicked and tried to jerk away as he aimed it toward her chest. He missed his mark, but not completely. The blood was dripping from her side, running down her skirt and legs. She stretched her neck to get a glimpse of her attacker’s face. But he wore a ridiculous Mardi Gras mask. All she could see were his eyes. Cold. Angry.

Her head was spinning. Her eyes refused to focus. And still he was hitting her with his horrible fists and dragging her away. Black walls closed in around her. And she was falling. Falling…falling…

And finally there was…nothing.

Chapter One

Langley Randolph ducked out of the rain and into the front door of Gus’s Corner Café. He shook the moisture from his Stetson hat and stamped the mud from his boots.

“Not a fit night out for man nor beast,” Gus called from behind the counter. He wiped his hands on the white work apron that stretched over his ample paunch. “What brings you into town?”

“Work. The storm triggered the alarm at Higgins’s Supermarket. I expected as much, but I had to eyeball the place and make certain it was nothing else.”

“Higgins needs to shell out a little cash and update that system. His alarm goes off if the wind blows crooked. Still, I’m glad for your company. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

“You can.” Langley shed his jacket and tossed it over one of the spare hooks supplied for the purpose. “I can use the caffeine. I’ve got a little more work to do before I can call it a night.”

“Looks like you’re serious about your temporary stint as sheriff.”

“Not by choice. I’ll take my cud-chewing critters to trouble-causing humans any day.”

“Well, you can’t blame your brother for wanting a honeymoon. If I had a wife half as pretty as Lacy, I might even chuck my boots under the bed and pull on one of them flowered Hi-waiian shirts.”

“Yeah, well, it would take more than a woman for me to wear that getup.”

“You just haven’t met the right woman yet. Everyone said Branson would never take the plunge and he was grinnin’ like a mule eatin’ thistles when the preacher tightened that marriage knot around his neck.”

“That was Branson. This is me.” Langley settled onto a bar stool at the counter.

“This is a new brand of coffee,” Gus said, setting a mug of steaming brew in front of Langley. “All the big restaurants in San Antonio have switched to it. At least that’s what my supplier said.”

Langley tried it while Gus watched.

“How’s it taste?” he asked before Langley placed the cup back on the counter.

“Like a new brand.”

“I mean, do you like it?”

“It’s coffee. I liked the old brand just fine.”

“You’re stuck in your ways, Langley Randolph. Do you know that?” Gus leaned over the table and wiped at a stain that didn’t want to give up. “Just plain stuck in your ways about everything except your cows. You got to have all the latest breeding methods on your ranch, but you want everything else about your life to stay the same. That’s why you don’t have a wife.”

“Right. So how about one of those same old cheeseburgers you make? And a side of those same old onion rings?”

Gus grinned. “Well, at least you’ve got good taste. I’ll fix me one and join you. I doubt I’ll get any more paying customers tonight in this downpour. Everybody’s home propping their feet under their own table.”

“Yeah. Too bad we didn’t get this rain about August when my grass was dying from the drought.”

“Well, then we wouldn’t be living in south Texas, would we?”

Gus grabbed a couple of beef patties from the cooler and plopped them onto the hot grill. They spit and sputtered, and Langley’s stomach reacted appropriately. He’d have preferred to be one of the folks with their feet stretched under their own table tonight, but if he had to be out, Gus was as good company as any. Actually, better than most he’d talked to today. At least Gus didn’t have any complaints he wanted to report to the acting sheriff.

Three days into his new role and Langley was eager to hand the lawman’s duties back to Branson. He’d never wanted to be deputized again, but he was the only available man with any kind of experience. He’d worked as deputy for almost a year right after he’d graduated from college and filled in from time to time since then.

But he had lost his taste for the work. Now he liked running the ranch, tending his cattle, researching the latest methods for producing the best beef in the most economical fashion.

But the Randolphs always stuck together, so he couldn’t very well turn down his brother’s request to fill in for him for two weeks while he honeymooned. Branson had his young deputy, Gordon, on the payroll, but Gordon claimed he wasn’t ready to take charge just yet. That left the job of acting sheriff to Langley.

The bell over the door tinkled, and Langley stretched his neck and looked around. Gus had been wrong when he’d said no one would be out in the storm. One more person had ventured out. A stranger. Drenched, but still attractive enough to make any red-blooded male take notice. He was no exception.

She raked a handful of wet hair from her face, tucking it behind her right ear before crossing her arms over her chest. The pose successfully hid the soft mounds of her breasts that the wet T-shirt had revealed. What she couldn’t hide were the tinges of purple and dark blue, remnants of bruises that covered her face and arms. Instinctively, Langley’s guard went up.

The woman stepped toward the counter. “Can I help you?” Gus asked. “You surely didn’t come out in this thunderstorm for a burger and fries.”

“No, I’m looking for the sheriff. I was told he might be able to help me. Do you know where I could find him?”

Trouble. Langley knew it the way a man knows his horse is about to buck or that the branding iron is not quite hot enough to do the job. He didn’t know how he knew it. He just did.

He slid from his stool. “I’m Langley Randolph,” he said, “the county sheriff—at least I am this week. What can I do for you?”

“I hate to ask on a night like this, but I’d appreciate a lift to the Running Deer Ranch.”

He studied the woman. Even soaked through to the skin, she had a sophistication about her. And an accent he didn’t recognize. “Do you have business at the Running Deer?”

She nodded. “I’m Danielle, Milton Maccabbe’s niece. I’m here to see him.”

Langley ran his hands deep into his front pockets, debating with himself on how he should tell the dripping stranger with a strange accent that the man she was planning to visit had died two weeks ago. “I’d be happy to give you a ride, but—”

“Good,” she broke in. “I’m anxious to get out there and I’m without transportation.”

“Then how did you get to Kelman? We’re a long walk from nowhere.”

“I came by bus.”

So that explained why she was soaking wet. Kelman didn’t have a regular bus station, but if there was someone to pick up or let off, the bus stopped at Phil Klinger’s feed store. But it was half past seven. The place would be locked up tight this time of night.

“The driver suggested I call the sheriff from the pay phone where he dropped me off, but it wasn’t working. I guess the storm knocked it out. I saw the sign for the café and took a chance it would be open.” She hugged her arms more tightly around her. “I didn’t expect to be lucky enough to walk right into the sheriff.”

“If Langley hadn’t been here, I’d have given you a ride,” Gus hastened to assure her. “We Texans don’t leave a woman on her own if we can help it.”

“I’ll drive you wherever you’d like to go,” Langley said. “But I’d like to eat that burger Gus is cooking before I take off in the storm again. You might like to do the same. Gus makes the best burger in south Texas.”

“The best burger in all of Texas,” Gus corrected.

The woman turned toward the sound of the sputtering meat, her eyes wide. But she shook her head and directed her gaze back at him. “I’m not hungry, but you go ahead. I’ll wait and eat something at the ranch.”

Of course, she expected to have dinner with her uncle. Which meant he couldn’t put off the inevitable. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Langley said, deciding the straight approach was the best.

“What kind of bad news?”

Langley swallowed hard and wished there was a way around what he had to say. But there wasn’t. “Milton Maccabbe died a couple of weeks ago.”

She lowered her head and directed her gaze to the toes of her muddy tennis shoes. “I knew he was sick,” she said. “I just hadn’t heard that he’d died.”

“In his sleep. The doctor said it was a peaceful way to go.”

“I’m glad. I just wish I’d been here.”

Her voice cracked on the words, but she didn’t cry. For the first time in a long time, Langley wished he was more like his brothers, wished that talking to strange women came easier to him. Instead, he was standing around like an awkward schoolboy, wondering if he should say something more or offer a shoulder to cry on.

Finally, she broke the silence. “Who’s staying at the ranch now to look after the cattle?”

“Joshua Kincaid’s hands are taking care of the place. Milton was foreman at Kincaid’s ranch before he retired and bought the Running Deer. But no one lives there. The place is deserted once the sun goes down.”

“Then I’d still appreciate a ride to the ranch, if you don’t mind.”

“It’s not the sort of place to visit at night,” Langley advised.

“I won’t be visiting. I’ll be moving in.”

Langley rocked back on his heels. His gaze lowered from her dripping hair to the wet clothes that clung to her body like a second skin and then back to her bruised face. “I’m not sure I heard you right,” he said, knowing that he had but hoping he was wrong.

“If Uncle Milton is dead, then the ranch is mine. He left it to me. I have it in writing.”

“Are you a rancher?”

“No, but I can learn.”

“Yep,” Gus interrupted, “and if you have any trouble, you can call on Langley. He lives practically in hollering range. If there’s anything about cows he don’t know, it hasn’t been discovered yet.”

She propped a foot on the boot rail of one of the stools and leaned against the counter. “It’s nice to know that expert advice will be so readily available.”

“I’ll be glad to help out if you have questions,” Langley said. “Any of the Randolphs will, but don’t put any stock in Gus’s claims. Every rancher around these parts has his own way of doing things, and we all think our way’s best.”

“Nonetheless, I appreciate the offer.” Danielle looked up at Langley, her dark eyes shadowed and mysterious, her lips parted, the flesh beneath the bruises raw. “But I’m sure I’ll be selling the place as soon as I can.”

Something in the way she spoke and moved reminded Langley of a frightened calf. It might just be the news of her uncle’s death, but he had the strange suspicion that it was something more than grief that strained her voice and haunted her ebony eyes. More like fear. After all, someone had recently branded her with the telltale signs of violence.

“You can call on me as a rancher or as a lawman,” he said. “We don’t cater to abuse or abusers in Kelman.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He stepped closer and trailed a finger along the purple marks that ran the length of her arm. She trembled at his touch and then backed away. An unfamiliar sensation swept through Langley, an awareness that set his nerves on edge. A beautiful woman with dangerous secrets—one who was about to become his neighbor.

And suddenly, Langley knew exactly how it must feel to be caught standing in the middle of a stampede with no way to escape.

HER UNCLE WAS DEAD. The news hit hard, a blow that knocked the last smidgen of confidence right out of her. All her hopes had been tied up in finding the one man who might be able to give her back her life. Now those hopes had been dashed with a single sentence out of the sheriff’s mouth.

Danielle slid the wet backpack down her arms, then scooted into the booth across the table from Langley Randolph. She faked a smile and hoped the rugged cowboy couldn’t hear the grumbling of her stomach when the man called Gus set a plateful of crispy onion rings between them. The last meal she’d eaten had been the lumpy oatmeal and cold toast the hospital had served for breakfast yesterday. Since then, she’d made do with a couple of cartons of milk and the crackers she’d picked up when the bus had made its pit stops.

Still, the little money her teenage roommate at the hospital had lent her would disappear fast enough without wasting it on restaurant food. Especially after she’d already used half of the meager funds to buy a bus ticket, an inexpensive backpack and a few other necessities.

Her mouth watered. She turned and stared out at the storm, but it was no use. The aroma was like a magnet, pulling her gaze back to the golden-brown slices of battered onion.

Langley pushed the plate in front of her. “Have some,” he insisted. “I hate to eat alone. Besides, Gus is a very sensitive man. His feelings will be hurt if you don’t rave over his speciality of the house.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to try them.” She lifted one from the plate and slipped it into her mouth. She chewed it too fast, but once her stomach had food that close, it refused to hold out any longer.

A minute later, Gus placed two more plates in front of them, each holding an oversize cheeseburger with thick slices of tomato and crisp lettuce.

“I know you said you weren’t hungry,” he said, “but I had this cooked already. It’s on the house. Just eat what you want.”

So she hadn’t fooled anyone. Obviously, she wasn’t a good actress. She hoped that wasn’t what she’d done for a living before…before she’d almost wound up dead. Before her life had slipped away in a black cloud of desperation.

She forced her mind back to the present. “Thanks, Gus,” she replied, her fingers already closing around the sesame-seed bun. “If the burger is as good as the onion rings, I’ll be able to eat it even if I’m not hungry.”

“Good. You eat up. Keep Langley here company, but don’t let him bore you with talk about those cows of his.”

“I promise not to get bored.” She bit into the burger as Gus walked away. Her taste buds danced deliriously. After two weeks of hospital food and two days of starvation, the thick, juicy beef was like manna from heaven.

She felt Langley’s eyes on her while she ate and knew he was sizing her up, but even that wasn’t enough to squelch her enjoyment of the meal. With all the problems she had, any pleasure at all was a cause for celebration.

Langley didn’t say a word until she’d finished everything on her plate, but the second the last bite was swallowed, he propped his elbows on the table and leaned in close. “I’m kind of surprised to hear that Milton had a niece. I’d heard he didn’t have any family.”

She stared him down. “I guess you heard wrong.” His attitude annoyed her. More to the point, it made her nervous. As nervous as the badge on his shirt did. She’d had enough of arrogant lawmen over the past two weeks.