In Dark Waters

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Authors: Mary Burton

BOOK: In Dark Waters
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In Dark Waters
By
Mary Burton
Contents

 

    "I will find your mother's killer."

    Gently Mitch placed his hand on her chin and turned her face toward him. She didn't resist.

    "Don't make promises you can't keep, Sheriff."

    "I never do."

    His hand shifted a fraction and touched the tips of Kelsey's hair. It would be easy to ignore. All she'd have to do was shift her position slightly and the connection would be broken.

    But she didn't move away.

    She moved a fraction closer to him so that his knuckle brushed the side of her ear. All he had to do now was lean over and kiss her.

    Anticipation had her heart thundering, left her mouth dry.

    "No."

    He eased back. "Okay."

    She couldn't let herself fall for Mitch again. When they parted—and they would—it would shatter her. "I think we'd better get to the quarry."

    "You're right." He started the engine. "Because when I do kiss you, there'll be nothing standing between us."

Dear Reader,

Greetings! This is the first month that Silhouette Intimate Moments switches from six to four books, and we are delighted to bring you a strong selection of page-turning stories. Of course, the best way to beat the heat is to pick up July's adrenaline-rush reads. As you curse your failing air conditioner and wish you could take that exotic trip with [insert handsome action superstar here], relieve the stress by delving into the emotional ride where passengers fall in love during life's most extraordinary circumstances.

USA TODAY
bestselling author Beverly Barton delights readers with a new romance from her popular miniseries, THE PROTECTORS. In
Ramirez's Woman
(#1375), a female bodyguard poses as a sexy politician's fiancée in order to foil a perilous threat on the campaign trail. Reader favorite Carla Cassidy returns with another WILD WEST BODYGUARDS story,
Defending the Rancher's Daughter
(#1376), in which a rancher hires her long-ago crush to protect her from harm. Can she keep herself from falling in love again?

Suzanne McMinn will bring out the beast in you with
The Beast Within
(#1377), the first in her PAX miniseries, in which a tantalizing hero shows his primal nature…and his estranged wife is charged with taming him! Harlequin Historical veteran Mary Burton debuts in the line with
In Dark Waters
(#1378), a creepy and provocative story about two divers who share a sizzling attraction as they investigate a grisly murder mystery.

These four stellar authors will fire up your summer and keep you looking for the adventure in your world. Be sure to return for next month's exciting lineup!

Happy reading!

Patience Smith

Associate Senior Editor

Silhouette Intimate Moments

SILHOUETTE BOOKS

ISBN 0-373-27448-3

IN DARK WATERS

Copyright © 2005 by Mary T. Burton

Books by Mary Burton

Silhouette Intimate Moments

In Dark Waters #1378

Harlequin Hisioricals

A Bride for McCain
#502

The Colorado Bride
#570

The Perfect Wife
#614

Christmas Gold
#627

"Until Christmas"

Rafferty's Bride
#632

The Lightkeeper's Woman
#693

The Unexpected Wife
#708

Heart of the Storm
#757

MARY BURTON
sold her first novel,
A Bride for McCain
, in January 1999.
In Dark Waters
is her first contemporary novel. A graduate of Hollins University, Burton enjoys a variety of hobbies, including scuba diving, yoga and hiking. She is based in Richmond, Virginia, where she lives with her husband and two children.

To my agent, Karen Solem

Chapter 1

Kelsey Warren arrived at the gated entrance of Diamond Stone Quarry just after sunrise.

She ignored the No Trespassing sign, opened the shiny, new aluminum gate and drove down the winding dirt road until it dead-ended into a freshly bulldozed parking area. From the lot, an extra wide access ramp led to the flooded quarry.

Fresh rays of sun glistened on the quarry's smooth waters and bounced up rocky, straight slopes. Despite the dawning light, the waters looked cold and eerily dark. This was a dive she'd have gladly skipped. She always preferred diving in the warm waters of the Caribbean or South Pacific to quarries. If her old friend Stu Hamilton hadn't asked her to dive as a favor, she'd already be on her way to Dulles Airport to catch the next flight to L.A.

She stopped her car and sat back, letting her head fall back against the seat's leather headrest. At one time, the played-out quarry had been the lifeblood of this region of Virginia. In its heyday, Diamond Stone had brought money, jobs and prosperity to Grant's Forge. But that had been long before she'd been born.

Why the devil did Stu want her to dive this quarry? She checked her watch. Six-twenty.

Stu was late.

Getting out of her car, she walked to the tailgate of the rented yellow Jeep and opened it. She tugged a large canvas duffel bag toward her and unzipped it as she kicked off her well-worn brown clogs. Years of teaching scuba to tourists with no sense of time had taught her to prep her gear as much as she could ahead of time. She slid off her faded jeans and black shirt, revealing a blue bikini.

Kelsey pulled out her wet suit, tugged it over her hips, slid her arms inside and zipped it up just past her belly ring. She laid out a bright blue tarp, arranged her dive gear and underwater camera on it.

Sitting cross-legged on her tarp, she checked her watch again.

Six thirty-five.

It wasn't like Stu to be late. He wasn't a tourist, but a businessman who prided himself on punctuality.

Kelsey shifted her focus back to the still waters. Hard to believe that less than a week ago she'd been in Fiji photographing surfers on the reefs near Beaqua Island. That Tuesday had gone particularly well. She'd not only shot a lionfish, but a school of barracuda as well. To top it off, the satellites had been working and she'd been able to e-mail the digital photo her editors at
Travel
and
National Geographic
.

But the day that had started so well had soured quickly when Stu had called and told her that her aunt had suffered a stroke. Kelsey and her aunt hadn't been close. The old woman had resented having a fifteen-year-old dumped into her life and she never missed a chance to say so. But when Kelsey's mother, Donna, had taken off for good that last time, Ruth had kept Kelsey with her.
The decent thing to do
, Ruth had always said. Whatever the reasons, Ruth's intervention had meant no foster care. And as much as Kelsey had hated her sour aunt's face, she despised the system more. To her way of thinking, she owed Ruth one last show of respect. So she left Fiji to attend Ruth's funeral.

But getting back to the States had proven more difficult than she'd imagined. Kelsey had had to wait two days before she could catch a fishing boat to take her to the main island and then another day before she could board a plane to the States. After forty-eight hours of flying and numerous layovers later, she'd arrived early yesterday in Grant's Forge, Virginia. Three hours too late for Ruth's funeral.

Kelsey closed her eyes. She could almost hear Ruth now. "A day late and a dollar short. No good, just like your mother."

To her amazement, tears pooled in her eyes. It had been eight years since she'd seen Ruth and ten years since Donna had ditched her, yet memories of both women had the power to crush the air from her lungs.

A tear ran down her cheek.

Ruth's dour nature could be explained away by age, but Kelsey had never figured out why her mother had taken off that last time. Donna had left Kelsey before with neighbors and friends, but she'd never been gone more than a week. She'd always come back.

Until that last time.

A car sounded on the gravel road behind her, startling her from her thoughts. Wiping away the tears, she rose as a black Suburban parked next to Kelsey's Jeep. Painted on the side was Grant's Forge Sheriff.

Kelsey stiffened. Damn. The last thing she needed was trouble with the local sheriff. Sheriff Buddy Hollis had never missed an opportunity to razz her when she was growing up.

To her surprise, Stu got out of the Suburban's passenger side. Just under five foot six with a large belly, he wore a white tank top, cut-off shorts and tennis shoes. His thinning gray hair was tied back at the nape of his neck. The sun had etched deep lines into his face.

After she'd gone to the funeral home and discovered Ruth's service was over, she'd checked into a hotel room and crashed. She'd talked to Stu last night, but this was the first time she'd seen him in eight years. He hadn't changed a bit. She couldn't help but smile.

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