Ms. Starr’s Most Inconvenient Change of Heart (A Raven's Run Romantic Mystery Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Ms Starr's Most Inconvenient Change of Heart (A Raven's Run Romantic Mystery, #1)

  Dorothy St. James | Barking Dog Press

  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

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Thank you for reading

  Also by Dorothy St. James

  About the Author

  To Jim, who always goes along with me on my crazy adventures.

  Ms. Starr’s Most Inconvenient Change of Heart

  A RAVEN’S RUN ROMANTIC MYSTERY

  Dorothy St. James

  Barking Dog Press

  Divorce with a Deadly Weapon...

  A Perfect Wedding

  Samantha Starr is planning the perfect wedding. But there’s a hitch. Before the fashion-loving librarian can get married, she needs to divorce her childhood sweetheart, Logan Dalton, a man she had thought dead.

  A High-Stakes Mission

  Security expert and ex-spy, Logan, is working undercover to stop hackers from using a computer virus from attacking the world’s computers. Someone has been undermining his mission every step of the way. He’s determined to find out who on the inside is helping the criminals. The last thing he needs is a diversion in the form of his long-ago sweetheart, Sam.

  A Deadly Combination

  Logan has built a life devoid of personal relationships. He likes it that way. Or does he? Having Samantha stumble into the middle of an important mission gives him a glimpse of the life he could have if he’d let his heart lead the way.

  Finding Logan thrusts Samantha into a world of danger and adventure. Can she walk away from the only man she’s ever truly loved and get the divorce she seeks? And will they be able to solve the mystery of who is working against them and stop a computer virus in time to save the world and themselves?

  Visit Dorothy St. James at:

  http://www.dorothystjames.com

  http://www.facebook.com/dorothy.stjames

  Published by Barking Dog Press

  “Miss Starr’s Most Inconvenient Change of Heart”

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © March 2020 by Dorothy McFalls

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Ebook Edition License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  Cover art: Shutterstock

  Editor: Nicki Richards

  As long as we live—be it a day, a month, or a hundred years— my love for you will never fade. You own my heart, now and forever.

  ~ Logan Preston Dalton’s Wedding Vows

  Chapter 1

  I can’t believe it.

  It was him. I’d finally found him. On the sixty-fifth floor of Global Tech’s international headquarters.

  No, not the hunk by the copy machine in the expensive Zenga suit and handmade Italian shoes. Yikes, he had good taste in clothes.

  Focus, Samantha.

  Right. The guy I’d spent the better part of this month hunting down was the other guy in the room. The one who was crouched down next to a bank of computers.

  His slightly too long brown hair looked messy like he’d been nervously pulling his hands through it too many times. He had a strong jaw. But his glasses were black thick-rimmed monstrosities just like his father—the engineer—used to wear. And don’t get me started about his clothes. His out-of-date tweed suit pants were wrinkled, almost as wrinkled as his white shirt. And what was with that ugly brown corduroy jacket? It belonged in a garbage can.

  Perhaps he was going for the ironic hipster look.

  Or perhaps he was a nerd.

  A broad shouldered, not that unattractive nerd.

  Make that a broad shouldered, not that unattractive, and incredibly hard to find nerd.

  Logan Preston Dalton.

  My husband.

  I felt a moment of panic as I twisted the papers in my hands. It’d been nearly fifteen years since I’d last seen him.

  No, I’m not an immortal. And this isn’t a tale of paranormal activity. Although, what had happened to us was anything but normal.

  Logan and I were married when he was fourteen-years-old and I was barely thirteen.

  It wasn’t a religious cult thing. Although, I suppose there was a minister in attendance. Nor was it one of those dynastic arranged marriages.

  The circumstance of our marriage was...well...weirder.

  On the day of our grand wedding celebration, I was suffering from cardiomyopathy, which meant my heart was diseased. I wasn’t expected to make it to the end of the year. Logan was battling leukemia. His prognosis had been even graver. Our parents had decided they wanted us to live full lives. In the days that followed, they’d dreamed up all sorts of crazy things for us to do.

  It was touching, really.

  Except—

  “Excuse me,” the well-dressed executive stepped between me and Logan. “This is a high security area. You can’t be in here without clearance.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know.”

  I did know. But I’d had a terrible time finding Logan. I’d nearly lost him several times that morning as I’d chased after him through the heart of Manhattan.

  Good gracious, I’d put too much effort into finding him to lose him in this maze of a skyscraper. I’d dodged security where I could and charmed guards when necessary to get me onto this floor. That’s why I wasn’t going to let this guy intimidate me.r />
  I’d worked my way through college as a model. I’m tall. The blonde hair came from a bottle. And the skinny came from spending a good deal of my childhood in hospitals eating hospital food. Blech.

  I had continued to model for several years after graduation. What can I say? I loved getting my hands on high-end clothes. I still love designer dresses and, I admit, I did dress to impress today just in case I managed to find Logan.

  I’m not a stunning beauty, just lucky enough to know how the right dress paired with the right amount of makeup can make even the plainest Jane sparkle. And I’d wanted to sparkle today. Even if our relationship never had been a real one, I still had my pride.

  Dressing in clothes that boosted my confidence had worked to my advantage. I’d used that confidence and the way the pale blue push-up dress enhanced what God had given me to breeze past even the toughest security checkpoints.

  “I mean it, you’ll have to go,” the executive said. He didn’t look nearly as attractive close up, especially not with him staring down at my Wonderbra cleavage.

  I knew his type. He was the kind of rich guy I used to flutter toward like a moth to a flame. That was before I’d started to plan my wedding. This guy’s keen attention to well-tailored clothes, his perfectly trimmed hair—oh, yes, I knew his kind well. He collected pretty women. And when a prettier woman came along, it’d be goodbye old arm-candy, hello new arm-candy.

  “Please.” I touched his arm and leaned in closer, giving him a good look at the cleavage he seemed so eager to peruse. “Please, let me talk to Logan for a minute. Then I’ll leave.”

  “Who?”

  “Logan.”

  “Who?” he asked again as he looked around.

  I pointed in the direction of Logan’s rear since the rest of him at that very moment had disappeared underneath a desk.

  “That guy?”

  “He’s my husband.”

  “That guy?” he repeated as he looked me over with even more care. He then turned toward Logan’s direction again. His eyes widened. His gaze flashed back at me. “Really? You’re telling me he’s your husband?”

  “I need to speak with him. Just for a moment. Then I’ll leave.”

  Mr. Slick frowned.

  “Please.” I hoped the pleading I tried to show in my brown eyes conveyed how important this moment was to me.

  “You said that guy is Logan and he’s your husband?” he asked.

  “Yes. I just need to have a quick word with him.”

  He shook his head. “Be sure to be gone when I return in five minutes.”

  “I will. Thank you.”

  I watched the executive rush through the same door I’d entered. As soon as he’d left, I cleared my throat.

  “L-L-Logan?”

  My warbling voice took me completely by surprise.

  I cleared my throat again.

  “Logan?” I said a little louder.

  The man under the desk jerked and then sat up without scooting out from under the heavy metal desktop above him. His head slammed against the underside of the desk with a resounding clang.

  “Dammit,” he growled.

  Not a good way to start this meeting.

  “Uh, Logan? Are you okay?”

  He rubbed the back of his head before he emerged from the desk with a surprising amount of speed. In a blur of movement, he crossed the room and smacked his hand over my mouth.

  “Stop saying that name,” he whispered in my ear. His gaze darted around the empty room as if he expected an army of mutant zombies to break through the walls.

  When they didn’t, and nothing else happened, he breathed a deep sigh of relief.

  “Who the hell are you?” he demanded. “And how the hell did you get in here?”

  I tried to answer but his hand was still pressed against my mouth, so all I could manage was a series of odd muffled sounds.

  “Oh, right.” He lifted his hand. “Talk.”

  “I’m Samantha Starr.”

  He stared at me.

  “You know, the little kid from the Sisters of Mercy Children’s Hospital?”

  “I remember you.” His voice was as quick and as sharp as a nail gun. “I just didn’t know that—”

  “That I was alive?”

  He nodded.

  “Same here,” I admitted. “I’d assumed after I moved out of the hospital that you had died.”

  “Okay, I’m alive. You’re alive. That’s great. But that doesn’t explain what the hell you’re doing here.”

  “You never used to swear so much,” I said.

  “I was fourteen with my mom hovering around me all the time. I didn’t have a chance to swear. Why are you here?”

  I nervously twisted the papers in my hands again. “I-um-I-I need a divorce.”

  “A divorce?”

  I nodded.

  He frowned. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because we’re married. I’ve spent the last year planning the wedding of the century and I’m not going to let a little hiccup like already being married ruin my plans at the last minute.”

  That was the truth. I’d literally walk through the fires of Hades to make sure this wedding happened. There was no way in the world I was going to disappoint my mother. She’d worked too hard, sacrificed too much because of my illness. It was time I started to provide a little for her. Like buy her a house on the shore.

  George had promised to do that for me. He needed a wife to help propel his career to the next level. And I needed the funds to help my mother.

  In exchange for serving as his arm candy and the perfect hostess, he’d agreed to buy my mother anything she wanted. The marriage was convenient for him and convenient for me. Sure, it lacked passion. But that suited me just fine. Love was overrated. I’d already seen how it’d ruined my mother’s life. I had no desire to repeat history.

  That was why I was here. I couldn’t secure my mother her happily-ever-after unless Logan signed the divorce papers.

  “You’re crazy.” He pushed past me to gather up some of his equipment. He shoved a long coil of cable into a slate gray backpack. “We’re not married.”

  He didn’t believe that we were married? My hands shook a bit. I had to change his mind. He had to believe me. We were married. He had to sign the divorce papers. “They won’t give me a marriage license without your signature on this paper.” I held out the crumpled document.

  He stared at it.

  “The wedding ceremony was just for fun,” he said after a long pause. “Something to make our parents happy.”

  “Yes, our parents. That’s the problem. Your mother wanted a marriage certificate to hang on her living room wall. She took the papers to the courthouse. In the eyes of the law, we’re married.”

  “But we were only kids.” His brows furrowed. He pulled his hand through his already unruly hair. “I was fourteen. You were twelve.”

  “Thirteen, actually. My birthday had been the week before. And it was the South, remember? And both sets of parents were consenting. Apparently, there was some forgotten law on the books that let this happen.”

  “I’m married?”

  “To me,” I said.

  “Married?” His legs seemed to give out under him. Logan plopped down to his chair. But it rolled. He ended up missing the seat altogether and landed on the floor with a resounding thump.

  Chapter 2

  “Holy crap, are you okay?” I rushed to Logan’s side with an urgency that really didn’t match the situation. I mean, he’d simply fallen on his butt. Still, old fears and insecurities from having lived too long at the edge of death flooded back to me as if they’d never left.

  Logan sat on the floor with his long legs sprawled out at odd angles and a dazed look on his face. Did that stunned expression mean he was sick again? Did the fall mean I might wake up tomorrow to the news that he’d died in the night?

  “Damn, that was stupid.” He batted away my efforts to assist him. “I don’t need your help.” />
  Even so, he stumbled a bit when he pushed himself to his feet. He sure fit the nerd profile with his utter lack of coordination. Or was his lack of coordination a signal that he was sick?

  He didn’t look like he was suffering from any kind of illness. He looked tense and focused. His gaze locked onto the bank of computers he’d been working on.

  My goodness, his keen blue eyes reminded me of the Caribbean ocean. Deep and blue. Forget his nerdy glasses, ugly clothes complete with a pocket protector, and the propensity to fall down. I could gaze into eyes like that forever. And his shoulders. They were broad enough to make the air catch in the back of my throat. He’d certainly grown into his lanky body and then some.

  What if we’d never been separated? I could only imagine too easily crawling into bed with someone as masculine as him night after night.

  That is...if he was healthy.

  The marriage vows read in sickness and in health, but I knew better. I knew that marriage only lasted in the best of times. There was no such thing as happily-ever-after, only happy-until-things-fell-apart. But looking at Logan and feeling the strength in his muscles as he reached out and touched my arm, made me ache to experience a little happy-for-now with him.

  I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. The antiseptic scent that used to cling to his skin was gone. No, this new and improved and (I hoped) healthy Logan smelled crisp and fresh like a dewy field. I wouldn’t mind rolling around in a field with him on a sunny morning and spending all day there, too. With his shirt off. And—

  “You shouldn’t be here.” The sharp edge to his voice shattered the fantasy my mind had been weaving.

  Good thing, too. My wedding was just a little over a week away. I had no business thinking those kinds of thoughts about any man.

  “How did you find me, Sam? You shouldn’t have been able to find me here. Not here. You need to go.”

  “I-I...” Focus, Samantha. I snatched a pen out of his pocket protector and then held up the divorce papers like a shield. “I need your signature. Sign and I’ll get out of your hair. Nice hair by the way. It grew back thick.”

  “Thanks. Now, really, I need you to go.” His grip on my arm tightened as he started walking me toward the door.