Kincaid's Dangerous Game. Kathleen Creighton

      

      Kincaid’s Dangerous Game

      Kathleen Creighton

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      Table of Contents

       Cover Page

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

       Chapter 3

       Chapter 4

       Chapter 5

       Chapter 6

       Chapter 7

       Chapter 8

       Chapter 9

       Chapter 10

       Epilogue

       Copyright

      Kathleen Creighton has roots deep in the California soil but has relocated to South Carolina. As a child, she enjoyed listening to old timers’ tales and her fascination with the past only deepened as she grew older. Today, she says she is interested in everything–art, music, gardening, zoology, anthropology and history, but people are at the top of her list. She also has a lifelong passion for writing and now combines her two loves in romance novels.

      For my family,

      near and far;

      I love you,

      eccentricities, skeletons and all.

Prologue

       Part 1

       In a house on the shores of a small lake, somewhere in South Carolina

      “Pounding…that’s always the first thing. Someone—my father—is banging on the door. Banging…pounding…with his fists, feet, I don’t know. Trying to break it down.”

      “And where are you?”

      “I’m in a bedroom, I think. I don’t remember which one. I have the little ones with me. It’s my job to look after them when my father is having one of his…spells. I have to keep them out of his way. Keep them safe. I’ve taken them into the bedroom and I’ve locked the door. Except…I don’t trust the lock, so I’ve wedged a chair under the handle, like my mom showed me. Only now I’m afraid…terrified even that won’t be enough. I can hear the wood splintering…breaking. I know it will only take a few more blows and he’ll be through. My mother is screaming…crying. I hold on to the little ones. I have my arms around them, and they’re all trembling. The twins, the little girls, are sobbing and crying, ‘Mama, Mama…’ but the boys just cry quietly.

      “I hear sirens…more sirens, getting louder and louder until it seems they’re coming right into the room, and there’s lots of people shouting. Then all of a sudden the pounding stops. There’s a moment—several minutes—when all I hear is the little ones whimpering…and then, there’s a loud bang, so loud we all jump. We hold each other tighter, and there’s another bang, and then there’s just confusion—voices shouting…footsteps running…glass breaking…the little ones crying…and I think I might be crying, too.”

      Cory discovered he was crying, but he also knew it was all right. He was all right. Sam, his wife, was holding him tightly, cradling his head against her breasts, and her hands were gentle as they wiped the tears from his face.

      “I’m going to find them, Sam. My brothers and sisters. I have to find them.”

      Samantha felt warm moisture seep between her lashes. “Of course you do.” She lifted her head and took her husband’s face between her hands and smiled fiercely at him through her tears. “We’ll find them together, Pearse,” she whispered. “We’ll find them. I promise you we will.”

       Part 2

       In a diner in a small town in the Texas Hill Country

      “I never thought it would happen,” Cory said to Holt Kincaid over steak and eggs at the diner. “Not to Tony. He’s always been…well, let’s just say, he’s somewhat of a lady’s man. I didn’t think he’d ever find…”

      “The one?” Holt lifted one eyebrow. “Who’s to say there’s a one for everybody? Maybe some people just don’t have one to find.”

      “Like you, for instance?” Cory’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he picked up his coffee cup. “What’s your story, Holt? I sense there is one—probably a helluva one, too.”

      Holt smiled sardonically but didn’t reply.

      After a moment Cory said, “So. What about my other sister? You said her name’s Brenna, right? Where is she and when can I meet her?”

      Holt let out a breath and pushed his plate away. It was the moment he’d been dreading. “That’s gonna be a problem.”

      “Why? What problem? You said the twins were adopted together, grew up in the same family. Surely they’ve stayed in touch. Brooke must know—”

      “I wish that were true.”