A Memorable Man

A Memorable Man
Joan Hohl

“Dammit, Woman,” (#u8854f39c-884e-5fd1-8530-2e7eb8969a46)Letter to Reader (#u548edef8-2b75-5c28-b98c-815dc6a54b9b)Title Page (#ub452f6c8-0605-51cf-a918-e9ca4f22c342)About the Author (#u76eace5c-344e-53c0-aae6-f0a790863180)Dedication (#ud24a4918-1dbc-5244-a47e-e176164664bc)Chapter One (#u311a905e-4d3b-5735-9824-8b4372f6d2db)Chapter Two (#ucfdaf7cf-1316-53af-9521-30e845188f1b)Chapter Three (#u9b1f5a49-33f5-5db6-9814-ccc456040570)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

“Dammit, Woman,”

Adam erupted, “we have no past. I have never met you, don’t know you, and you sure as hell can’t know me.”

“Oh, but I do,” Sunny persisted, meeting his narrow-eyed glare with fearless composure. “I would know you anywhere.”

“How do you know me?” he insisted. “How, when we have never met, never seen each other?”

“Not in this lifetime, no,” she agreed.

Oh, hell, Adam thought savagely, seeing his hopes for a mutually satisfying holiday dalliance growing dimmer with each statement she made. He, Adam Grainger, so selective about his female companions, was attracted—strongly attracted—to a cuckoo bird!

Dear Reader,

A book from Joan Hohl is always a delight, so I’m thrilled that this month we have her latest MAN OF THE MONTH, A Memorable Man. Naturally, this story is chock-full of Joan’s trademark sensuality and it’s got some wonderful plot twists that are sure to please you!

Also this month, Cindy Gerard’s latest in her NORTHERN LIGHTS BRIDES series, A Bride for Crimson Falls, and Beverly Barton’s “Southern sizzle” is highlighted in A Child of Her Own. Anne Eames has the wonderful ability to combine sensuality and humor, and A Marriage Made in Joeville features this talent.

The Baby Blizzard by Caroline Cross is sure to melt your heart this month—it’s an extraordinary love story with a hero and heroine you’ll never forget! And the month is completed with a sexy romp by Diana Mars, Matchmaking Mona.

In months to come, look for spectacular Silhouette Desire books by Diana Palmer, Jennifer Greene, Lass Small and many other fantastic Desire stars! And I’m always here to listen to your thoughts and opinions about the books. You can write to me at the address below.

Enjoy! I wish you hours of happy reading!

Lucia Macro

Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

A Memorable Man

Joan Hohl

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

JOAN HOHL

is the bestselling author of almost three dozen books. She has received numerous awards for her work, including the Romance Writers of America Golden Medallion Award. In addition to contemporary romance, this prolific author also writes historical and time-travel romances. Joan lives in eastern Pennsylvania with her husband and family.

To my editor, Melissa Senate,

for being such a nice bully

One

It was fascinating, like stepping back over two hundred years in time.

Bemused by the novelty of the experience, Adam Grainger came to an abrupt halt behind the two elderly ladies blocking his passage to Duke of Gloucester Street. In no particular hurry, instead of circling around them, he waited patiently for them to finish their conversation and then either cross the street or part company.

It had been snowing when Adam flew out of Wyoming that morning, snowing and windy and bitterly cold. Rather normal weather for mid-December. At the time, since he was flying toward the eastern seaboard, he had presumed it would be cold in Virginia, as well.

But it wasn’t cold; in fact with the temperature hovering around 62°, the air felt balmy against his face.

While waiting, basking in the gentle sunshine, Adam slowly took in his surroundings, the sights and sounds of the restored capital city of Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia.

Lowering his gaze to his hands, he studied the well-marked map, which delineated every street and restored building in the area. His bearings set, he raised his eyes. Directly opposite, across the cobbled street, stood the Bruton Parish Church, and beyond the church, the Governor’s Palace rose majestically at the end of the two-block-long Palace Green.

But it wasn’t the lovely old church or even the more imposing palace in the background that caught Adam’s attention and fancy, riveting his gaze.

A young woman was approaching the street from the green. Although attired in the period costume of a reenactor, she strode forth with the free and easy long-legged gait of the modern woman, a long dark red cape swirling around her ankles, a mobcap swinging by its strings from her fingers. Sunlight glimmered in loosened strands of gold streaking her brown hair, which was gathered into a carelessly fashioned topknot.

An odd sensation of familiarity flared to life inside Adam. Startled by the feeling, he stood staring, arrested by the very sight of her beautiful composed face.

“A pity, really, she’s such a lovely girl.”

Adam couldn’t help but overhear the remark made by one of the ladies standing less than a foot in front of him. A movement of the lady’s head indicated the remark had obviously been intended to apply to the young woman coming to a halt at the opposite curb.

A pity? he thought, frowning. What could there be to feel pity for such an enchanting creature? The thought had no sooner struck him than the answer was forthcoming.

“A bit odd, you know,” the lady murmured in a sympathetic tone, shaking her head.

“So I’ve heard,” the other lady replied, heaving a sigh. “Although she seems fine most of the time, I understand she is subject to moments of delusions or some such.”

The first lady nodded in agreement. “Not only that,” she informed sadly. “But I’ve been told she goes off on rather wild and strange flights of fancy.”

Delusions? Wild and strange flights of fancy? Containing an urge to laugh aloud, Adam shot a glance at the woman under discussion. Although the woman hesitated near the curb, her expression of growing consternation seemed merely to indicate mild indecisiveness. She certainly didn’t appear to Adam as either odd or given to sudden wild and strange flights of fancy.

At that instant, just as Adam heard the two ladies say their goodbyes and separate, the woman stepped off the curb and into the street. Adam did likewise, strolling toward her as she strode toward him. As they drew alongside one another he felt another decidedly strange jolt, at the same time noting the sudden widening of her eyes.

What the hell?

Even as the thought flashed through his mind, Adam was brought up short by the sound of her voice.

“Andrew?”

A case of mistaken identity. Surprised by the sharp sense of disappointment he felt, Adam turned to offer her a small smile and a reluctant disclaimer.

“Sorry, but no, I am—”