Never Trust A Lady

© 1997


Dear Reader,

It’s summer. The days are long…hot…just right for romance. And we’ve got six great romances right here, just waiting for you to settle back and enjoy them. Linda Turner has long been one of your favorite authors. Now, in I’m Havireg Your Baby?! she begins a great new miniseries, THE LONE STAR SOCIAL CLUB. Seems you may rent an apartment in this building single, but you’ll be part of a couple before too long. It certainly works that way for Annie and Joe, anyway!


Actually, this is a really great month for miniseries. Ruth Wind continues THE LAST ROUNDUP with Her Ideal Man. all about a ranching single dad who’s not looking for love but somehow ends up with a pregnant bride. In the next installment of THE WEDDING RING, Marrying Jake, Beverly Bird matches a tough cop with a gentle rural woman-and four irresistible kids.


Then there’s multi-award-winning Kathleen Creighton’s newest, Never Trust a Lady. Who would have thought small-town mom Jane Carlysle would end up involved in high-level intrigue-and in love with one very sexy Interpol agent? Maura Seger’s back with Heaven in His Arms, about how one of life’s unluckiest moments-a car crash-somehow got turned into one of life’s best, and all because of the gorgeous guy driving the other car. Finally, welcome debut author Raina Lynn. In A Marriage To Fight For, she creates a wonderful second-chance story that will leave you hungry for more of this fine new writer’s work.


Enjoy them all, and come back next month for more terrific romance-fight here in Silhouette Intimate Moments.



Leslie J. Wainger

Senior Editor and Editorial Coordinator

Prologue

Tom Hawkins hit the steering wheel with the heel of his hand as a silver Peugeot zipped around him on the right with barely inches to spare. “Idiot!” he snapped, adding his favorite filthy epithet in French.

The traffic on the Comiche President John F. Kennedy had come to a halt once more, to the symphonic accompaniment of blaring horns and shouted insults. Hawk glanced at his watch and swore again, softly and this time in English. No way around it, he was going to be late for his meeting with Loizeau.

He settled back with a resigned sigh and reached for his cigarettes, deliberately avoiding even a glance at the spectacular Mediterranean view on his left, where windsurfers’ sails swooped and darted like butterflies over molten copper breakers. It was just such scenes of almost searing beauty that made him hate this city so much. Marseilles reminded Hawk of New Orleans. It seemed to him that there was something false about both places… something sinister and treacherous lurking just beyond the raucous gaiety. The face of evil behind a Mardi Gras mask.