His Secret Past

Ellen Hartman

His Secret Past

Ellen Hartman

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Table of Contents

Cover (#u064b6d2a-32a5-54ce-8dab-d1026b5bb5b5)

Title Page (#u5b89aee0-2cc2-563b-b16f-fc6add84fa74)

About the Author (#uceaa8835-2e73-5ada-bfd1-96e86793caa4)

Dedication (#u69fffe70-4a9b-5bd8-8b83-527ed08aa641)

Chapter One (#ue7bdfec3-1dff-57b4-907c-562ead2daedf)

Chapter Two (#u1eb9739a-43ac-542d-a797-1b9624b06c6c)

Chapter Three (#ue7edc36d-3c38-569b-9b35-683218e2f960)

Chapter Four (#u72f9329c-7e7f-52ce-ab89-e33a4f4bf73f)

Chapter Five (#ua54f4f31-1130-57f4-b0d1-dcfd345f3cec)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Ellen Hartman has been making a living as a writer since she graduated from Carnegie Mellon University and went to work for Microsoft writing documentation for Word. (In those days the company had five thousand employees, windows were glass things you opened to get a breeze and Bill Gates was still single.)

She met her husband while he was living in Hoboken, New Jersey, and they lived there together as newlyweds. They share great memories of meals at Amanda’s and late nights listening to music at Maxwell’s.

Currently, Ellen lives in a college town in upstate New York, where she enjoys writing romances, horrifying her husband with her musical “taste” and watching movies, old and new, with her sons.

This book is dedicated to my sister, Anne, and my

best friend, Stephanie. They keep me sane, share my

unhealthy eating habits (another chocolate chip cookie,

anyone?) and are always willing to take to the dance

floor at the first hint of “Dancing Queen.”

As always, my hat’s off to my writing group,

Diana, Leslie, Liz and Mary. They kept after me

when Anna was eluding me and helped me

find her spark. Thanks!

CHAPTER ONE

April 2007

GNOCCHI. ANNA shook her head as she dropped her hoodie on the arm of the sofa. Food bribes? How easy did theythink she was?

Her stomach growled as she narrowed her eyes at the big pasta bowl, full and steaming on her brother’s dining-room table.

Something was up.

Anna eased the front door closed and slid the key into the pocket of her track pants. She considered the table with its cheerful centerpiece of daffodils and the wineglasses she’d bought Jake and his partner, Rob, for Christmas last year. She tugged the holder off her ponytail, freeing her curly shoulder-length hair. Someone had goneto some trouble here.

Because Rob swore that making gnocchi gave him flashbacks to his grandmother’s cooking lessons punctuated by her uncomfortably sharp tongue and handy wooden spoon, he made the pasta dumplings only on special occasions. Anna’s birthday. Jake’s birthday. The anniversary of his nonna’s death when he washed the gnocchi down with homemade wine he bought from the Italian men’s club at the end of the rapidly gentrifying street.

Whenever he or Jake wanted to bribe Anna.

She let the aroma of Rob’s secret family recipe spaghetti sauce wrap around her, pulling her toward the kitchen.

“Honeys, I’m home,” she called out as she walked into the brightly lit room, the first Jake and Rob had remodeled since buying the dilapidated Hoboken brownstone three years ago.

Jake was leaning on a stool at the island, one leather loafer on the brass foot rail, his elbows propped on the dark soapstone counter. He turned with careful nonchalance when she came in.

Anna lifted a hand, not committing to a hello before she knew what was up. Staying with her brother and Rob had its ups and downs. On the one hand, she loved spending time with them. Eleven months out of twelve she was on location or flying back and forth to locations for Blue Maverick films, the production company she and Jake ran. If she had anything she’d call a home base, it was here with them.

On th