Undercover Memories. Alice Sharpe
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HE MAY HAVE QUESTIONS ABOUT HIS PAST, BUT NOT HOW HE FEELS ABOUT HER…
Reeling after being left at the altar, Paige Graham seeks comfort in her secluded cabin. But there’s someone sleeping in her bed—a sharp-eyed, sexy stranger who claims to have no memory. While a little digging reveals John’s true identity, Paige knows there’s more to his past…and more to her feelings.
He may have been told who he is, but bodyguard John Cinca isn’t satisfied with the answers, especially when they place Paige in danger. With his protective instinct in high gear, John vows to uncover his true identity while keeping her safe. But what if recovering his memory means he is the one Paige should be afraid of?
Who was he, and what was he doing in her cabin?
Now that she’d seen his face, she wasn’t as frightened of him, and why was that? There wasn’t one cuddly thing about him. She should be running for her life.
Instead, cleaver still in hand, she sat down on a chair opposite him. “You think you fell down a waterfall?” she asked.
“I don’t know for sure,” he said, touching his lip and wincing.
“You must know something,” she insisted.
He raised his gaze to hers. “I wish I did, lady, but I’m afraid that what you see is what you get.”
This book is dedicated to my best friend, my lover and my partner—my husband, Arnold Sharpe.
Undercover Memories
Alice Sharpe
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Alice Sharpe met her husband-to-be on a cold, foggy beach in Northern California. One year later they were married. Their union has survived the rearing of two children, a handful of earthquakes registering over 6.5, numerous cats and a few special dogs, the latest of which is a yellow Lab named Annie Rose. Alice and her husband now live in a small rural town in Oregon, where she devotes the majority of her time to pursuing her second love, writing.
Alice loves to hear from readers. You can write her c/o Harlequin Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279. SASE for reply is appreciated.
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CAST OF CHARACTERS
John Cinca—He awakens after apparently falling down a waterfall. He’s lost his wallet and his memory. Now he’s wanted by both the police and a terrifying killer. If he’s going to save his life and that of the woman who risks everything to help him, he needs to find out what happened.
Paige Graham—Left at the altar, she does what any brokenhearted gal would do—she goes on her honeymoon by herself where she can count on the fresh Montana mountain air to rejuvenate her spirit. If she can survive the man she finds in her bed.
Jack Pollock—He’s a retired ex-policeman who refuses to even own a gun. That may have been a bad decision on his part.
Anatola Korenev—Big, mean and single-minded, exactly who is this guy and why is he so determined to kill John?
Katy Graham—Paige’s little sister’s stubborn streak is going to exact a heavy price.
Brian Witherspoon—The man Paige was supposed to marry, he changed his mind at the last moment. However, not everybody knows the wedding didn’t take place—some think Paige is his wife, and that means he’s in the way….
Natalie Dexter—Clues suggest she is important to John. How important is the question.
Chuck Miner—It’s generally accepted his coma is due to a beating delivered at the hands of John Cinca. If he can wake up in time, he might be able to reveal the truth.
Matt—A bodybuilder gifted with a streak of nice, he’s the one Katy counts on for help. But who’s going to help him?
Irina—She knew John many years. What she remembers of his past helps him to not only regain his future, but also catch a glimpse of the man who wants him dead.
Carol Ann Oates—This older woman may hold the key to John’s lost memories, and that’s why it’s imperative he speak with her before it’s too late.
Contents
Chapter One
Something was wrong.
He must have fallen asleep in a strange position.
He opened his eyes slowly, concentrating for a moment. Rocks, from the size of a pea to a man’s fist. Ragged and round, all colors, russet and ivory and gray. A confetti of rocks…
And the nearby thunder of falling water.
But there was something else.
Nausea washed through him as he raised his head, but he kept pushing until he’d dragged himself into a sitting position, wincing as the