Silver Bracelets

by Sandra Chastain

Genres: Women's Fiction; Romance; Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

In Sandra Chastain’s funny and sensual story of unfettered love, a pretty locksmith discovers that she holds the key to one man’s guarded heart.
 
Always ready to look on the bright side, professional locksmith Sarah Wilson expects the late-night call to be some sort of practical joke. But no. Big, buff, and handcuffed to a bed, Sheriff Asa Canyon is as red-hot angry as he is just plain hot. The thrill of setting him free makes this one night that Sarah will never forget . . . because it’s the night she unlocks the secret to her own happiness.
 
Torn between wringing his best buddy’s neck for pulling this little stunt or kissing the sweet and sexy locksmith who comes to his rescue, Asa chooses the latter. But the longing their encounter ignites is wreaking havoc with his life. A committed loner, Asa doesn’t have plans to look for love, or even really believe it exists—at least not for him. Until Sarah sets out to break open his heart and show him what joy lies inside.
 
Includes a special message from the editor, as well as excerpts from these Loveswept titles: Trying to Score, Flirting with Disaster, and Long Simmering Spring.

Release date: July 8, 2013

Publisher: Loveswept

Print pages: 192

Sample

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.