Banning's Woman
Ruth Ryan Langan
His first thought was that she’d been abducted.
Then he realized that the door to her bedroom was open.
He walked past the message written in bold letters in bloodred lipstick: This Is What Happens To Meddlers.
He was relieved to see Bren staring wordlessly at her dresser. He holstered his gun and went to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, drawing her back against him.
“Are you okay, baby?”
She swallowed, then nodded, still too overcome to speak.
“I can’t believe I called you. I have a brother in the security business. Another who has more connections in Washington than the president. Yet I called you.”
He touched a hand to her shoulder. “You called me because you know in your heart I’d never let anything happen to you.”
Dear Reader,
They say that March comes in like a lion, and we’ve got six fabulous books to help you start this month off with a bang. Ruth Langan’s popular series, THE LASSITER LAW, continues with Banning’s Woman. This time it’s the Banning sister, a freshman congresswoman, whose life is in danger. And to the rescue…handsome police officer Christopher Banning, who’s vowed to get Mary Bren out of a stalker’s clutches—and into his arms.
ROMANCING THE CROWN continues with Marie Ferrarella’s The Disenchanted Duke, in which a handsome private investigator—with a strangely royal bearing—engages in a spirited battle with a beautiful bounty hunter to locate the missing crown prince. And in Linda Winstead Jones’s Capturing Cleo, a wary detective investigating a murder decides to close in on the prime suspect—the dead man’s sultry and seductive ex-wife—by pursuing her romantically. Only problem is, where does the investigation end and romance begin? Beverly Bird continues our LONE STAR COUNTRY CLUB series with In the Line of Fire, in which a policewoman investigating the country club explosion must team up with an ex-mobster who makes her pulse race in more ways than one. You won’t want to miss RaeAnne Thayne’s second book in her OUTLAW HARTES miniseries, Taming Jesse James, in which reformed bad-boy-turned-sheriff Jesse James Harte puts his life—not to mention his heart—on the line for lovely schoolteacher Sarah MacKenzie. And finally, in Keeping Caroline by Vickie Taylor, a tragedy pushes a man back toward the wife he’d left behind—and the child he never knew he had.
Enjoy all of them! And don’t forget to come back next month when the excitement continues in Silhouette Intimate Moments.
Yours,
Leslie J. Wainger
Executive Senior Editor
Banning’s Woman
RUTH LANGAN
Books by Ruth Langan
Silhouette Intimate Moments
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§The Wildes of Wyoming—Hazard #997
§The Wildes of Wyoming—Ace #1009
**Awakening Alex #1054
**Loving Lizbeth #1060
**Seducing Celeste #1065
‡‡By Honor Bound #1111
‡‡Return of the Prodigal Son #1123
‡‡Banning’s Woman #1135
Silhouette Romance
Just Like Yesterday #121
Hidden Isle #224
No Gentle Love #303
Eden of Temptation #317
This Time Forever #371
Family Secrets #407
Mysteries of the Heart #458
The Proper Miss Porter #492
Silhouette Special Edition
Beloved Gambler #119
To Love a Dreamer #218
Star-Crossed #266
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Silhouette Books
The Fortunes of Texas
Snowbound Cinderella
Harlequin Historicals
Mistress of the Seas #10
†Texas Heart #31
*Highland Barbarian #41
*Highland Heather #65
*Highland Fire #91
*Highland Heart #111
†Texas Healer #131
Christmas Miracle #147
†Texas Hero #180
Deception #196
*The Highlander #228
Angel #245
*Highland Heaven #269
‡Diamond #305
Dulcie’s Gift #324
‡Pearl #329
‡Jade #352
‡Ruby #384
‡Malachite #407
The Courtship of Izzy McCree #425
Blackthorne #435
?Rory #457
?Conor #468
?Briana #480
One Christmas Night #487
††The Sea Witch #523
††The Sea Nymph #545
††The Sea Sprite #565
Harlequin Books
Outlaw Brides
“Maverick Hearts”
Harlequin Historicals
Christmas Stories 1990
“Christmas at Bitter Creek”
RUTH LANGAN
is an award-winning and bestselling author. Her books have been finalists for the Romance Writers of America RITA Award. Over the years, she has given dozens of print, radio and TV interviews, including Good Morning America and CNN News, and has been quoted in such diverse publications as The Wall Street Journal, Cosmopolitan and The Detroit Free Press. Married to her childhood sweetheart, she has raised five children and lives in Michigan, the state where she was born and raised.
For beautiful little Gabrielle Rose, shiny new link in our chain of love.
And for her parents, Patrick and Randi, and her sweet brother and sister, Patrick and Nicole.
And as always, for Tom, pure gold.
Contents
Prologue
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
Prologue
Chevy Chase, Maryland, 1981
Kieran Lassiter nursed his beer and wondered how he would survive the weight of the grief that pressed against his heart. Earlier today, when the casket bearing the body of his son Riordan had been lowered into the ground, it had taken all his courage to remain standing. He’d wanted to sink to his knees and wail like a banshee. To throw himself into the grave and beg to be buried alive. It wasn’t the way of things, for a man to bury his son. It should have been the other way around. He’d had a full, rich life, married to the same fine woman for thirty-seven years. He’d been blessed with a son who’d done his father proud by following him into service as a much-decorated police officer in the city of Washington, D.C. What’s more, Riordan and his wife, Kate, had given Kieran four lively grandchildren. With his wife already gone, Kieran was ready to die. Instead, life had dealt him a cruel blow, and had taken his son in the prime of his life. It left him devastated. And feeling suddenly old and useless.
Giving in to the grief, he allowed the tears to flow until he was drowning in misery. What was he to do now? How was he expected to go on, with his only son torn from his arms? He didn’t want to be here, hiding out like a frightened old man in his daughter-in-law’s home. In fact, he didn’t want to be anywhere in this world. If the Almighty were merciful, he would be taken this very night, in order to be spared the pain of facing another morning.
He heard the creak of the stairs and put on the fiercest look he could manage, to hide the tears. “Who’s there?”
A small figure stepped out of the shadows. “It’s me, Pop. Bren.”
“Mary Brendan.” The sight of this wee lass always touched a chord in him. When she’d been bor
n, Riordan refused to change the name he’d already picked out for this third child, in anticipation of another son. And so Brendan, which had been the name of Kieran’s beloved father, had become Mary Brendan, though everyone in the family shortened it to Bren.
She was tiny, appearing to be no more than six, though she was already eight years old and smart as a whip. Her proud father had often remarked that she was an odd little duck. An old soul, wise beyond her years, who seemed touched with some sort of special powers. It was she who could mend a cut knee or a bloody nose with her gentle care. She who could put a smile on even the saddest face. But this was no fragile hothouse flower. She’d developed an outer toughness in order to survive the daily combat of three brothers.
She may have inherited her mother’s fiery hair and her father’s unusual blue-green eyes, but her mind was delightfully original.
“What’s wrong, lass?”
“I—” her lip quivered “—can’t sleep yet.”
“I know the feeling.” He beckoned her closer and lifted her onto his lap. “Come sit with your old pop for a while. We’ll keep each other company.”
She snuggled close, aware that he smelled vaguely like her father. “Sister Elizabethine said we should be proud, because Dad was a hero.”
“That he was. He gave his life for his partner.” Kieran took another blow to the heart and wondered if he could bear the pain. “Greater love hath no man…”
“When I grow up, I’m going to spend my life doing good for other people, too.”
“And how do you intend to do that, lass? Will you be a police officer like your father and me?”
She shook her head, sending red curls dancing. “I’m going to find some other way to help people. Dad said if I read enough books and study the lives of heroes, I’ll find out what I’m meant to do. I just know I want to do something good.” She gave a long, deep sigh. “Pop, I know Dad’s gone to heaven, but he hasn’t really left. He’s still here with us, watching over us.”
Kieran wrapped his big arms around her and pressed his face to her hair, struggling to find the words that would bring comfort to them both. “We all want to believe your dad is still here with us.”
She looked up. “You, too?”
“Yeah.” He drew in a deep breath. “Of course, we can’t always have what we want. Life doesn’t always go the way we planned it. But your grandmother, God rest her soul, used to say that whenever one door is closed, another opens.”
She looked up eagerly. “But Dad doesn’t need a door now. He’s always here. We just can’t always see him.”
“That’s a nice thought, lass.” He saw her eyes fill with tears. “Now what’s wrong?”
“Mom’s in Cameron’s room, reading a bedtime story to him. Dad told me I’d have to be patient because Cameron’s the youngest, and he needs Mom more than me.”
“Your dad told you that, did he? And when did the two of you have this conversation?”
“Just now. Up in my room.”
He drew back to give her a long, slow look. “You know it’s wrong to fib, Mary Brendan.”
“I know.” When she realized what he was suggesting, her eyes rounded. “Dad was there, Pop. He sat next to me on my bed and told me he’d always be here to watch out for us. He said Donovan would need the most care, because he’s so much like you. And he said you would need all of us to fill the hole in your heart. Do you have a hole in your heart, Pop?”
He nodded, suddenly too overcome to speak.
“Dad said you’d tuck me in bed, now that he can’t be here to do it.” She stared up into his eyes. “Will you? Tuck me in bed?”
Shaken, he got to his feet, cradling her against his chest. “I will, Mary Brendan.”
He climbed the stairs and carried her to her room. After settling her under the covers he bent down to brush a kiss over her cheek and tasted the salt. “What’s this now? More tears?”
She sniffed. “I’m glad you tucked me in tonight, Pop. But when you go back home, who’ll tuck me in then?”
He didn’t know where the words came from. Without giving it a moment’s thought he said, “Then, I guess I’ll just have to stay.”
“You mean it? Forever?”
He nodded. “I give you my word, lass. I’ll stay here for as long as I’m needed. And if you like, I’ll tuck you in every night until you’re all grown-up and don’t want me around anymore.”
“Oh, Pop. Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely. “But there’ll never be a time when I won’t want you around.”
In that moment he felt as though the tight band around his heart loosened just a bit.
As he stepped from her room and returned to his chair by the fire, he felt a sense of deep gratitude. That strange, perceptive little girl, who could be so wise or so heartbreakingly tender, had just given him a reason to go on living.
Chapter 1
“Hi, Pop.” Cameron Lassiter came breezing through the back door, his attaché case in hand. “Something smells wonderful.”
His grandfather, Kieran, took a moment to taste before setting aside the spoon and looking up. “Pea soup. The best I’ve ever made.”
Kieran had remained at his daughter-in-law’s home for all these years, cooking, cleaning and helping raise her four children, who were now adults with lives of their own. Still he remained, running the house while Kate, who had returned to law school after the death of her husband, now worked as a family ad vocate in the poorest section of Washington, D.C.
Just then Kate Lassiter hurried inside, trailed by her son Micah and his wife, Pru, who lived down the street. “I see it’s just another quiet night,” Cameron remarked dryly. He turned to greet the rest of his family before tossing aside his jacket and briefcase. “Pop made soup.”
“Great. It’s blustery out there today.” Micah nodded toward the backyard where fiery autumn leaves were engaged in a lively dance.
Cameron had a thought. “Did you bake some bread to go with that soup, Pop?
In reply Kieran picked up a knife and began cutting thick slices of bread on a cutting board. In his best Irish brogue he asked, “You mean you intend to grace us with your presence at supper tonight?”
Cameron grinned. “Yeah. I had plans but they got…changed at the last minute.”
Micah picked up on that immediately. “Meaning the latest bimbo dumped you.”
“Bimbo? Listen, bro…” Cameron gave Micah a shove hard enough to rattle his bones and send him back against the trestle table.
In turn Micah clapped a big hand on his younger brother’s shoulder. The look in his eye signaled an all-out fight.
Kieran nodded toward the back door. “Out to the yard, the two of you. There’s still time to shoot hoops before supper.”
Micah lifted his hands in a symbol of defeat. “No need, Pop. We’ll behave. At least for now.”
“Not good enough. You heard what I—”
Suddenly Pru’s voice could be heard from the other room. “Oh, my goodness. Look at this. It’s our Bren. On the six-o’clock news.”
Everyone went trooping into the great room to stare at the television. When Bren’s face came on the screen, they went deadly quiet as the news anchor’s voice said, “After an unarmed man was gunned down by a police officer right here in the district, Representative Mary Brendan Lassiter was asked by her party to form a commission to investigate not only this crime, but a string of deaths involving the excessive use of force by police.”
At that, Kieran gave a snort of disgust, but quickly quieted as Bren was shown facing a barrage of microphones and reporters, all shouting questions.
A pretty blond reporter called, “Congress woman, do you support those who say the police have been given too much authority over the lives of ordinary citizens?”
Bren managed a smile. “I haven’t heard it put quite that way. Our committee has found some abuse of power in some select police forces. But that is certainly not the norm. For the most par
t we find the police to be dedicated professionals who take their jobs very seriously.”
Kieran nodded. “You tell ’em, lass.”
“Congresswoman Lassiter.” An earnest young reporter shouted above the din. “We’ve heard that police boards across the country have unanimously condemned the wording of the bill your committee is considering. A bill that would encourage the investigation of corruption by an agency independent of the police board. The chief complaint is, of course, that your bill would block the police from investigating their own and weaken the power of the Department of Internal Affairs.”
Bren’s smile remained in place. “I don’t see how anyone could speak against a bill that hasn’t even been finalized yet. Our committee members are still discussing the language.”
“But you won’t deny that such a bill has been drafted and is being seriously considered?”
Bren chose her words carefully. “We all realize that if even one innocent person is the victim of police violence, that is one person too many. If the police can’t monitor their own, perhaps an outside agency should be called in. This bill is just one of many solutions our committee is considering.”
“Aren’t you also considering setting limits on the numbers and types of weapons a police officer may carry?”
“As I said, we are considering many issues. At this time nothing is written in stone.”
The camera cut away from Bren to the face of the news anchor in the TV studio who said, “And so the battle lines are already being drawn between police officers across America and the House of Representatives, with freshman Congresswoman Mary Brendan Lassiter leading the charge.”
“What rubbish.” Kate Lassiter clicked off the set and turned to see her sons and father-in-law looking glum. “I hope you aren’t going to believe such nonsense before you even get a chance to talk to Bren.”
“She didn’t deny it.” Micah’s eyes were cold as ice.
“What’s worse, she actually admitted it.” Kieran pounded a fist into his hand. “How could a Lassiter even consider such a thing as tying the hands of the very ones dedicated to protecting us? Why, it goes against everything the Lassiters have always stood for.”
