Ethan's Daughter Read online

  There’s safety in solitude...isn’t there?

  Single dad and best-selling thriller writer Ethan James has no problem being Templeton Cove’s most famous recluse...until a surprise visit from the past plunges him into a real-life crime drama just as feisty nurse Leah Dixon barges her way into his world.

  Ethan’s first priority is to protect his daughter. His second priority is to keep Leah out of this dark web—and that means out of his bed. Except Leah isn’t going anywhere; she’s afraid little Daisy is in danger. Ethan couldn’t live with himself if anything happened to Leah...but pushing her away may be even harder!

  Ethan glanced at Leah as they drove along the main street.

  Her jaw was set and her grip on the steering wheel looked tight enough to break the damn thing.

  He stared ahead and cleared his throat. “You know, my hand feels fine if you want to postpone looking at it until tomorrow. I’ve no idea how long I’ll be talking to my agent, and I don’t want to keep you waiting. Plus, I need to get Daisy showered and into bed. She has school in the morning.”

  “It’s for the best that I look at it tonight. I’ve already seen the dried blood.” She glanced at him. “Your hand is clearly not fine. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as possible.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying. I just…” He just what? Wanted her far away from him so there was no risk of acting on the crazy need to kiss her?

  Dear Reader,

  So happy to welcome you back to Templeton Cove! Ethan’s Daughter is book seven in the series, but all the stories can be read as stand-alone books. This is a romantic suspense story centering around Leah Dixon, who briefly appeared in books three, four and six. By book seven, it was clear she had a lot more to tell me! Her hero is a newcomer to the series, Ethan James, a single father and reclusive thriller writer.

  The book opens with Leah finding Ethan’s young daughter playing alone on the beach. Having seen far too much neglect and harm come to children through her job as an ER nurse, Leah is ready to do battle as she returns little Daisy safely home. Leah’s shock that Daisy’s father is none other than sexy, mysterious and extremely successful novelist Ethan James is short-lived. Her surprise is soon cut short by his bleeding hand and her quick, experienced eye drawing the correct conclusion that the wound is a defensive one.

  When Ethan refuses to go to the hospital, Leah is alerted to possible trouble and danger for little Daisy. Unable to ignore her professional care, duty and growing attraction to Ethan, Leah is soon drawn into Ethan’s criminal trouble and the people threatening him.

  All that matters to both Leah and Ethan is his daughter’s safety and they will do everything they have to in order to make sure of it.

  Ethan’s Daughter is romantic, tense and was so much fun to write. I really hope it will keep you gripped in its pages and tempt you to return to Templeton Cove again soon!

  Visit me on Facebook at Rachel Brimble, and Twitter, @rachelbrimble.

  Happy reading,

  Rachel

  RACHEL

  BRIMBLE

  Ethan’s Daughter

  Rachel Brimble lives with her husband and two teenage daughters in a small town near Bath in the UK. After having several novels published by small US presses, she secured agent representation in 2011. Since 2013, she has had eight books contracted with Harlequin Superromance (Templeton Cove Stories). She also has four Victorian romances with eKensington/Lyrical Press.

  Rachel is a member of the Romantic Novelists Association and Romance Writers of America, and was selected to mentor the Harlequin Superromance finalist of the So You Think You Can Write 2014 contest. When she isn’t writing, you’ll find Rachel with her head in a book, knitting or walking the beautiful English countryside with her family. Her dream place to live is Bourton-on-the-Water in southwest England.

  She likes nothing more than connecting and chatting with her readers and fellow romance writers. Rachel would love to hear from you!

  Books by Rachel Brimble

  HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE

  Templeton Cove Stories

  Finding Justice

  A Man Like Him

  What Belongs to Her

  Christmas at the Cove

  Her Hometown Redemption

  Saved by the Firefighter

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com.

  Get rewarded every time you buy a Harlequin ebook!

  Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards

  http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010002

  For my amazing friends who have believed in me from the start—but a special thank-you to the lovely Joanna Hall. I could not have written Leah & Ethan’s story without your professional help and advice (all errors are mine). You are a star!

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  EPILOGUE

  EXCERPT FROM UNDERCOVER WITH THE HEIRESS BY NAN DIXON

  CHAPTER ONE

  THE RISING WIND blew off the ocean onto Templeton Cove’s promenade and Leah Dixon pulled her jacket closer around her body. Even though it was only September, the weather was already turning typically British. If she hadn’t stopped for a friendly chat with a few of the locals, she would have been home from her shift at the hospital an hour ago.

  She looked to the beach and shivered as the first drop of rain spattered her glasses.

  No one needed to get caught in one of Templeton’s rainstorms. The Cove and its coastal location meant it was prone to flooding, and when Mother Nature decided to scream her wrath there was little chance of escape for anyone.

  Ducking her head, Leah glanced back and forth across the deserted beach as she hurried toward her small cottage just off the main street.

  She suddenly drew to an abrupt halt.

  Squinting, she walked to the railing. Was that a child out there on her own? It couldn’t be. “Oh, my God.”

  Leah sprinted across the beach as the heavens opened, sending down an icy-cold deluge. The little girl, who couldn’t have been any older than six or seven, was throwing rocks into the incoming tide, relaxed and seemingly happy, as though it were a midsummer evening. Her track pants, denim jacket and open sandals would do little to stop her from getting soaked in five minutes flat.

  “Are you okay, sweetheart?” Leah slowed as she came closer, not wanting to frighten her. “What are you doing out here on your own?”

  The little girl turned, her dark, curly hair loose about her shoulders, her blue eyes sad. “Hello.”

  Was that all this little one had to say to her? Leah swallowed and forced a smile as she surreptitiously looked about them, in search of an adult to whom this gorgeous creature belonged. “Hi, sweetie. Where’s your mum?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Are you lost?”

  “No. I live here.”

  “Here?” Leah frowne
d, fighting the urge to take the little girl’s hand and warm it between her own. “In the Cove?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “But you don’t know where your mum is?”

  “No, she left me and Daddy a long time ago.”

  Deeper sadness seeped into the girl’s eyes and Leah’s self-control buckled. She offered her hand. “I see. Well, why don’t you come with me and I’ll help you find your daddy. Or is someone else looking after you?”

  “Daddy’s working.” The little girl slipped her hand far too easily, far too trustingly, into Leah’s. “He’s always working. My name’s Daisy James. What’s yours?”

  “Leah. Leah Dixon.” She firmly clasped Daisy’s hand and started to lead her back to the promenade steps. “So are you here with someone else while Daddy’s working?”

  “No. I came out on my own. I was looking for some friends to play with.”

  Leah briefly closed her eyes as ugly images reared in her mind. She knew them far too well, from working in Templeton’s ER for the last eight years. Anything could’ve happened to this sweet baby. Anything. “Well, I tell you what, Daisy. Why don’t you tell me where you live and I’ll get you home before we’re both soaked through. How will that be?”

  Daisy smiled for the first time, her eyes bright even as the rain plastered her curls flat to her head. “That will be good. Thank you.”

  Leah smiled back, itching to give Daisy a hug. “You’re welcome. Do you know your address?”

  “Sure. I live on Clover Point. Our cabin is called King’s Korner. With a K.”

  “Huh.” Leah nodded, already forming a picture of the little girl’s father. “Did your daddy name the cabin? Fancies himself a king, does he?”

  “No.” Daisy giggled. “I think it’s because of a writer he likes.”

  “Hmm...why don’t we get you home and I can ask him myself.”

  Hand in hand, she led Daisy along the promenade toward Clover Point, situated at the far end of the Cove. Although they walked as fast as possible, it took them a good twenty minutes. Leah’s blood was boiling. How long had Daisy been gone from home for her father to not notice her missing? Worse, what if she was lying for her father and he’d actually sent her out alone so he could get some precious work done?

  A hundred and one parents had come up with the same sorry words as she’d stitched and bandaged up their bored kids, who’d sought out their own unsupervised fun.

  Night was falling quickly and, with only the old-fashioned streetlights to aid their ascent, Leah’s temper steadily grew with each trudging step. The only people they saw on this wet and windy night were a man cycling past them on his way farther up the point and a woman running in the opposite direction.

  With the increasing ferocity of both wind and rain, Leah would normally be running herself as she made her way home.

  “This is our house.” Daisy pulled her hand from Leah’s and hurried up the gravel driveway toward the log cabin. “Come on.”

  The cabin was about halfway up Clover Point, which meant it was one of the most affluent properties in the Cove. Which also meant Daddy Dearest wasn’t short of a penny or two. Her irritation rising, Leah hurried after Daisy, who stood waiting on the front step.

  Lamps flickered through the living room window; the curtains were open, showcasing the beamed ceiling and what looked to be lots of brown leather furniture. Overflowing bookshelves were visible in the background, some sort of wooden elephant ornament stood on the windowsill, and beige drapes curled at the window’s edges.

  At least Daisy’s father seemed to be home, even if his taste in decor held the colorless appeal of the Dickensian.

  To the right of the front door, the kitchen/dining room stretched all the way to the back of the house. Even in the semidarkness, Leah could see straight through to some French doors at the rear, the only illumination coming from the overhead light of the stove as it glinted on steel toward the center of the room.

  Snapping her gaze to Daisy, Leah found her opinions on personal tastes flying to the wayside. The little girl’s eyes were wide as she chewed her bottom lip. Leah frowned. “Are you all right, sweetheart? Do you want me to knock?”

  Daisy nodded and raised her arms toward Leah as though asking to be picked up. “Yes, please. Daddy might be mad.”

  “Oh, Daddy won’t be mad.” Leah bent and picked her up, hitching her onto her hip as Daisy’s arms wound around her shoulders. “If Daddy’s mad, I’ll show him how to calm himself down real quick. Don’t you worry about that.” She lifted the brass knocker and let it fall a little harder than necessary.

  No answer.

  Narrowing her eyes, she knocked again.

  She was readying to knock a third time when the door swung open.

  “I told you to get the hell out of here and not come back.” The man’s dark hair sprouted from every angle, his raging eyes bulged and his right hand was swathed in a blue-and-white—and bloodied—dish towel. His gaze held Leah’s for a split second before he snapped his attention to Daisy.

  “My God, Daisy. What are you...?” He cupped her under her armpits, wincing slightly as he pulled her from Leah’s arms to hold her close. He pressed a lingering kiss to her temple.

  Leah stared, completely stunned by this flannel-shirted, blue-jeaned, incredibly good-looking man...despite the bulging eyes. She coughed in a bid to find her voice. “Mr. James?” She planted her hands on her hips. “You’re Daisy’s father, I presume?”

  Apparently, when his eyes had softened and were filled with regret rather than rage, they looked good. Really good. Leah stepped back.

  Oh, good Lord. She’d be damned if those weren’t the eyes of Templeton’s reclusive novelist, Ethan James.

  * * *

  ETHAN INHALED AGAINST the slam dunk of shame versus relief that had hit him in the chest when he’d seen Daisy in a stranger’s arms. Albeit a beautiful stranger. “Yes. Yes, I am. Ethan James. It’s nice to meet you.” He stuck out his left hand, balancing Daisy on his right hip and forearm. “Thank you so much for bringing her back. Where was she?”

  The stranger ignored his offered hand, her hazel eyes flashing dangerously even as rain dripped from her blond bangs and slipped behind her glasses. “Why would you not know where your child is at all times?”

  “I thought...” He stepped back into the hallway. “Look, why don’t you come in? I’ll put some coffee on. You’re soaked.”

  She snatched a look behind him. “Thank you, but no. I just want to know why your little girl was wandering alone on the beach—”

  “The beach?” He turned to his daughter. “Why were you on the beach? Why would you leave the house?”

  Daisy sniffed and burrowed her face into his neck. Ethan’s heart hitched at the depth of his neglect. Nausea rose bitter in his throat and he looked to the woman who’d brought his precious baby home. “I was caught up with something. I really can’t thank you—”

  “Caught up with something?” Her eyes narrowed. “As in work?”

  Whether rightly or wrongly, he suddenly felt defensive. “Hey, I’m trying my best, okay?”

  “No, not okay.”

  Her glare was mean, yet justified. He slumped his shoulders and shifted Daisy onto his other hip, his right hand throbbing as warm blood trickled over his wrist. The woman’s gaze snapped to his injured hand and he held it behind his back. “Look, I need to... Why don’t you come in? I really appreciate you bringing Daisy home. The least I can do is offer you coffee and a towel.”

  She frowned. “What have you done to your hand?”

  Damn it. “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” She raised her eyebrows. “That dishcloth is doing a pretty bad job of soaking up nothing.” Sighing, she waved him back and stepped into the hallway. “Let’s go into the kitchen and I’ll take a look.”

/>   “You really don’t have to do—”

  “No, I know I don’t.” She brushed a hand over Daisy’s head. “Same as I didn’t have to bring your sweetheart home, either, but I did.” She nodded toward the kitchen. “This way, right?”

  Ethan held Daisy closer as his gaze followed the denim-clad ass of the blonde bombshell that had just detonated her way into his house. Fine, she’d brought his daughter home. Fine, he was an asshole for not realizing Daisy wasn’t still upstairs watching her iPad, her ever-present earphones stuffed into her ears. Fine, he was the one who let his daughter watch her iPad while he worked hour after hour...

  He shut the front door before he looked at Daisy. “Why did you leave the house? You know you should never go anywhere without telling me.”

  “I went to the beach.” She lowered her gaze to the buttons on his shirt and twisted them one at a time. “Are you mad at me?”

  He opened his mouth to respond, but the blonde woman called from the kitchen. “It will be a shame if you’ve dripped blood all over your fancy wood flooring, you know.”

  Ethan shot a glare to the kitchen doorway before pressing a quick kiss to Daisy’s head. “We’ll talk about this later, when the lady’s gone, okay?”

  “Her name’s Leah.”

  Ethan walked toward the kitchen. “Leah, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  As he entered the kitchen, she stood with her back to him, wetting another of his dish towels under the running tap. “Take a seat and remove the dishcloth. I’ll use this one to see what we’re dealing with. What happened?”

  He needed to get her out of his house. He needed to stop her questions. Lowering Daisy onto one of the six chairs around his dining table, Ethan sucked in a breath through clenched teeth as the wound on his hand screamed in indignation. “I cut it with a kitchen knife. Damn stupid.”

  “Where’s the knife?”

  “What?” Ethan straightened and met her gaze as she strolled toward him, brandishing the dishcloth, her cheeks ever so slightly flushed with clear anger.