“I’ll walk you up.”
“That’s not necessary.” Drowsiness thickened Karen’s voice, turning it husky.
Jesse faced her and covered her hand with his. “Someone tried to make sure we didn’t get off that mountain yesterday. I am not about to let you walk into a dark house by yourself. End of discussion.” He smiled. “I told you I’d do my damnedest to protect you, and that still goes.”
Warmth rushed through her body. No one had ever wanted to protect her. Just the thought turned her all soft inside. “Okay.” She slipped from the car and went up the front walk with Jesse at her side, her elbow cupped in his warm palm.
At her room inside the B and B, Karen inserted her key in the lock. The tumblers clicked, but before she opened the door, she leaned forward and kissed Jesse’s cheek lightly. “Thank you.”
He said nothing, just touched the spot she’d kissed, stared intently into her eyes and then turned on his heel to leave. After one last glance in his direction, she opened the door…and screamed.
Dear Reader,
First of all, I want to thank all my readers for the wonderful reception you gave Baptism in Fire and Touched by Fire. You truly touched my heart with all your support for my debut into romantic suspense, along with my first foray into the twisted mind of the serial arsonist.
I am very excited about the publication of the next and last book in the F.I.S.T. series, Burning Secrets, for many reasons. Mostly because it ties together Jesse Kingston’s story—the last of the Kingston family series that I began in the Harlequin American Romance line—and Karen Ellis’s story, Sam’s sister from Touched by Fire, in a grand finale. So, for all of you who asked for Jesse’s story and waited patiently, here it is. Enjoy!
I’ve found that despite being terrified of fire in real life, I really enjoy writing about it and burning things up on the printed page while helping my heroes and heroines find love, understanding and inner peace. So I can guarantee there will be more arson-related stories coming from me.
In the meantime, be happy and healthy, and may all your dreams see fruition.
Until next time…happy reading!
Blessings!
Elizabeth Sinclair
Burning Secrets
Elizabeth Sinclair
ELIZABETH SINCLAIR
In 1988 Elizabeth’s husband, Bob, dragged her kicking and screaming from her birthplace, the scenic Hudson Valley of upstate New York, to historic St. Augustine, FL. It took her about three seconds to stop struggling and fall deeply in love with her adopted hometown. Shortly after their move, at 3:47 p.m. on August 3, 1992, she sold her first romance novel, Jenny’s Castle.
Despite the fact that she used to spend hours in the kitchen cooking big meals, Bob, Elizabeth’s most ardent supporter, has learned to enjoy hot dogs and delivery pizza as much as he used to enjoy spaghetti sauce from scratch. Oh, and he no longer complains about all the books she spends money on. Bob and Elizabeth have three children, four lovely grandchildren, a rambunctious sheltie, Ripley, and an affectionate adopted beagle, Sammi Girl, whom they found abandoned along the roadside and took into their home.
Elizabeth is the author of several romances for the Silhouette Romantic Suspense and Harlequin American Romance lines. For more about Elizabeth, visit her Web site at www.elizabethsinclair.com.
To Nancy Quatrano, a very special, caring person.
Our “furry” girls love you lots. So do we.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Chapter 1
“I’ve been a complete ass.” Karen Ellis glanced apprehensively across the dining-room table at her older sister, Samantha Branson.
“Yes, you have.” Sam softened the accusation with a smile. “Want to tell me why?”
Sam’s birthday party guests had left hours earlier, and there was no longer any way Karen could escape the inevitable explanation that had waited years to be put into words.
Nervous about how Sam would take her admission of guilt, Karen put off explaining by repeatedly running a piece of yellow ribbon between her thumb and forefinger. As it slid between her fingers, the ribbon’s curl became tighter and tighter, until it mirrored Karen’s coiled nerves. Needing no reminder of how much the mere thought of having this conversation had made her skin crawl, Karen threw the ribbon back into the pile of torn and crumpled wrapping paper, empty gift boxes and mangled bows that littered the table.
“Well?” Sam prompted.
Karen glanced at her. Even though Sam pressed her for an answer, Karen could tell from her sister’s guarded expression that she had no more desire to open the door to their very painful past than Karen did. The uncomfortable silence of two strangers trying to find common ground enveloped them.
Sam shifted forward, determination evident in her set mouth. “What happened to us, Karen? We were close once, when we were little. When did it all fall apart?”
Karen took a fortifying breath. No matter how difficult and no matter what the consequences, the time had come to clean the slate and finally be honest with both herself and Sam.
“I guess it started when I began blaming you for Dad walking out on us and Mom living vicariously through you in her quest for fame and, in the process, forgetting she had two daughters.” Karen looked away, ashamed now of how long she’d allowed her petty, misplaced blame to stand between them. “But you were as much a victim as I was.” She shrugged. “Maybe more so. After having a long talk with Dad today at the party, I understand
