Silver Bracelets: A Loveswept Contemporary Classic Romance
Read Silver Bracelets: A Loveswept Contemporary Classic Romance Online
Authors: Sandra Chastain
Silver Bracelets
is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
A Loveswept eBook Edition
Copyright © 1991 by Sandra Chastain
Excerpt from
Trying to Score
by Toni Aleo copyright © 2013 by Toni Aleo.
Excerpt from
Long Simmering Spring
by Elisabeth Barrett copyright © 2013 by Elisabeth Barrett.
Excerpt from
Scarlet Lady
by Sandra Chastain copyright © 1997 by Sandra Chastain.
All Rights Reserved.
Published in the United States by Loveswept, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
LOVESWEPT is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc.
Silver Bracelets
was originally published in paperback by Loveswept, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc. in 1991.
eISBN: 978-0-345-54168-0
v3.1
For Marian Oaks
because she gave me Sarah
and a whole lot more.
Contents
Excerpt from Toni Aleo’s
Trying to Score
Excerpt from Elisabeth Barrett’s
Long Simmering Spring
Excerpt from Sandra Chastain’s
Scarlet Lady
One
Sarah played the beam of her flashlight back and forth through the dark apartment until she found the half-naked man handcuffed to the brass bedpost.
“Somebody here in need of a locksmith?” she asked, and swallowed her grin. This wasn’t the first practical joke she’d been called out to undo, but it was the first one where the victim was wearing only underwear and socks.
“Hell, no!” The captive swung his feet to the floor and said with deadly warning in his voice, “If I need anything, it’s a firing squad. Who are you? And get that light out of my eyes.”
“Sarah Wilson. Sorry, I don’t have a rifle on me, and I’d turn on a lamp except there doesn’t seem to be one.”
“There isn’t. How’d you get in here?”
Sarah decided it was just as well that there was no other light. From the tone of his voice and the set of his lips she didn’t think that exposing either of them to further illumination was advisable. That was all right; she’d been warned that he’d be angry.
His clipped, evenly spaced words told her that he was barely managing to control his fury. And the beam from her flashlight was more than sufficient to reveal his totally masculine, whipcord-lean body. He didn’t try to cover himself. In fact, he didn’t seem to notice his near nakedness.
This rescue was proving to be a bit more intense than she’d expected. Not only was his voice intimidating, but his black hair, which was too long, and heavy five o’clock shadow made him look mean. She rarely saw a man that she didn’t put a label on, but this time she was having trouble deciding whether he belonged in a late night thriller movie, or on the
Outlaws of the West
calendar in her shop.
Then she realized there were two things wrong with her line of thought. First, this was Smyrna, Georgia, not Marlboro Man country. The second and more dangerous problem was that the practical joke she’d been called in to rectify didn’t seem to be amusing the victim one bit. The fact that her pulse was doing the lambada while her breaths were coming in waltz time weren’t helping matters at all.
She decided to try to defuse this ticking bomb before there was an explosion and she got caught in the blast. “I’m a locksmith. If
you’re Asa Canyon, your friend Mike sent me over. He says that you should be a good sport about losing the bet.”
“Correction. I apparently don’t have any friends, and I don’t bet.”
“Mr. Larson knows that you’re upset,” she went on, as if he hadn’t spoken, “and he’s sorry. I’m supposed to unlock the cuffs, then tell you to read the note he left for you. And, oh yes, your boots are by the door.”
Asa Canyon jerked his hand and felt the pressure of the cuffs against his wrist. Fighting the pounding waves of frustration and pain that assaulted his head, he wondered how he could have let himself be fooled. He should have known something was going on when Mike turned up so unexpectedly.
They were an unlikely pair: Mike, the wealthy playboy, and Asa, the cynical ex-Marine. Mike was the only longtime friend that Asa had, and that was only because Mike made few demands. Up until this evening, the last time they’d crossed paths had been two years ago in Denver, during a ski competition. Asa had been working security and Mike had been traveling with some of the rich and famous.
Last night, they’d gone to the Chattahoochee River Company, a bar on the square for “a real man-to-man talk” over a couple of beers. Asa vaguely remembered some long earnest speech from Mike about his being a changed man, a man with a future. That discourse was followed by a wild story about
running the bulls in Spain … and falling in love with Jeanie.
During the second beer, Mike had been very polite when he’d asked Asa to give his approval to the marriage. It wasn’t that Asa had a problem with Jeanie getting married; it was marriage to Mike that Asa objected to.
Since he’d become Jeanie’s stand-in father sixteen years ago, when she’d been in boarding school, their relationship had slowly evolved into that of an older brother looking after his beloved little sister. Until three months ago when she’d called and asked him to come to Smyrna, outside Atlanta, Georgia, where she’d made her home base for the past year.
She’d been heartsick over a broken love affair, and for the first time, nothing Asa could do seemed to cheer her up. That was when she’d come up with the crazy idea that since she and Asa had always been family, they might as well make it legal and get married. Asa would have told her that she was being foolish, but she’d been hurting so badly that he hadn’t been able to do it. He’d given up his security job in California and come to Smyrna, where he’d eventually signed on with the County Sheriff’s department. He’d known that after Jeanie had had time to think things through, she’d change her mind, just as she had with all the other grand schemes she’d ever entertained.
What he hadn’t counted on was Mike changing Jeanie’s mind by making her fall in love
with him. Asa remembered swearing to put Mike in jail if he even thought about making a move on Jeanie. Asa wanted Jeanie to be happy, but he’d never allow her to marry a jaded playboy without a job.
Just about the time he’d realized that Mike was serious, Asa started to feel dizzy. Mike joked that it wouldn’t do for Deputy Sheriff Asa Canyon’s best friend to let him get arrested for drunk driving. Mike insisted on driving Asa home. After that, everything went blank.
Now Asa understood. Mike had realized that Asa would find a way to stop the marriage, and Mike had put something in his beer. Then he’d taken Asa to Jeanie’s newly rented apartment, taken his clothes, and handcuffed him to the bed with his own handcuffs. Asa had only just begun to wake up when he’d heard someone opening the door.
That someone—the woman holding the flashlight—was all mixed up with the memory of last night and the absurdity of the present situation. He hadn’t heard what Sarah had just said, but from the quizzical expression on her face, he had the feeling that she’d asked a question.
“Never mind about how this happened. Maybe we ought to talk about getting you loose,” Sarah went on. “You have some weird friends, Mr. Canyon, if they think that this is just a simple practical joke.”
“You’re right. Having your best friend slip you a Mickey is no joke, lady.”
“Someone drugged you?”
Sarah was starting to become a little worried. There was something very peculiar about this call. She shined the light around, trying to figure out why the name Asa Canyon sounded familiar. Aside from the bed, there wasn’t another piece of furniture in the whole room, not even curtains, sheets, or a pillow. Just one very angry man, wearing nothing but socks and underwear. The only other thing in sight was the pair of boots by the door, with the envelope sticking out of one of them.
Sarah had often been accused of being too trusting. Pop had been trusting too, and she didn’t know any other way to be. But this time she might be in over her head. Still, after twenty-eight years of living her life one way, she probably couldn’t change, even if she wanted to. And what she wanted now was to find out more about Asa Canyon.
Never one to follow directions, Sarah had already deviated from the instructions left on her answering machine by coming out in the middle of the night instead of waiting until morning. Now she decided that the man handcuffed to the bed ought to know what the note said
before
he was free. That way, if she was going to be the object of his anger she could either run for her life or bargain for her safety.
She picked up the envelope and started toward him.
He stopped struggling with the handcuffs.
He even seemed calm now, but there was an underlying tension about him that was intensifying with every breath he took. She would have sworn that the temperature in the apartment was rising.
Looking at her sternly, he cursed—too quietly—and said, “You’re right, Ms. Wilson. This isn’t a practical joke. And if Mike Larson thinks that I’m going to laugh this off he’s dead wrong. You just get me loose. There’s someone I have to talk to right away, before she makes a very big mistake.”
Uh-oh,
she
? Sarah stopped right where she was. There was a woman involved. She’d heard about bets and payoffs, but this was truly mean! She shined her light on the note and opened it. She couldn’t help but glance at the contents. This wasn’t a simple bet. For a long minute she debated about what she could do to cushion the blow that was coming. But she was unable to think of a thing.
Sarah couldn’t bring herself to read the note out loud. It was too personal, too painful for a man like this one. She didn’t need to have him tell her that he was proud. It showed in every inch of him. And almost every inch showed.
“Maybe you’d better see this,” she said, finally walking over to the bed and focusing the light on the paper so that he could see.
Asa’s eyes followed the words, reading, but not accepting.
Sorry, old buddy, I tried to tell you about Jeanie and me, but you wouldn’t
listen. We really fell in love. She didn’t want to hurt you, so I tried to explain. You weren’t about to let her go so I had to take drastic measures. By the time you read this in the morning, we’ll be gone. Maybe you’ll learn to forgive us.
Mike
P.S. I took your clothes to slow you down—in case you managed to get away.
There was a long silence.
“Are you all right?” Sarah asked.
“Unfasten these handcuffs, Ms. Locksmith.”
“Maybe you ought to think about what you’re planning to do,” Sarah suggested. She had to delay what was sure to be a massacre if Asa Canyon caught up with his friend.
“I have thought about it.”
“I know how hurt you must be, Mr. Canyon, but he says they’re in love. Surely you want this Jeanie to be happy. If you love her, you have to put your own feelings aside.”
“I don’t have to do anything, and I’m not in love with her.”
“Oh.” Sarah was stumped. Was the man heartless?
“She’s my … my ward, not my fiancée. I care about her, but love is something I don’t allow.”
