A Clean Slate chronicles the days of Kelly McGraw, a Chicago woman who suddenly can't remember the last five months of her life, a time when she was dumped by her soon-to-be fiance and laid off by the company she thought would make her partner. Overwhelmed and confused but otherwise feeling wonderful, she begins to realize that she has a clean slate in life. She can do anything she wants, go anywhere she wants, be anything she wants. But what, exactly, does she want?

Follow Kelly on a journey that includes her search to discover what caused her memory loss, an internship with a bad-boy British photographer, a Caribbean photo shoot, her boyfriend's desire to come crawling back and, eventually, a brutal discovery that will cause her to reevaluate both her old and new lives.

Former navy SEAL Lucas Washington was an expert at tackling impossible missions. But when a striking--and very pregnant--woman turned up in a car he was repossessing, suddenly he was in over his head. Shaken and bruised, she couldn't remember what had happened to her or why she was terrified of going to the police. Lucas made it clear he could be trusted, and vowed to protect her until she was safe. Hours turned to days as they searched for clues to her hidden past. Then a family came to claim her, and a happy ending seemed imminent. But had he just delivered his Jane Doe to safety...or into the hands of a killer?

Grant Morgan, London's most eligible bachelor, insists the temptingly beautiful woman he rescued from the Thames is the notorious Vivien Rose Duvall -- but she's not so sure. Now her life is in his hands, and he's determined to unravel the secrets of her past, no matter what. Lisa Kleypas has thrilled readers with her unforgettable love stories set in the glittering world of Regency London. Now, the author of Stranger in My Arms, brings her fans a story with all the promise, and oassion, of forbidden love. She couldn't remember who she was...A temptingly beautiful woman awakens in a stranger's bed, rescued from the icy waters of the Thames, her memory gone. Told that she is Vivien Rose Duvall, one of London's most scandalous beauties, she finds herself under the protection of enigmatic, charming Grant Morgan. Her life is in his hands. Deep in her heart, she knows he has mistaken her for someone else...He was the only man she could trust. As one of London's most eligible, and unattainable catches, Grant Morgan is a man who has known every kind of woman. And the one in his arms now seems so innocent, so vulnerable, that he can't help but be enchanted. And as his love for this mysterious beauty grows, he's determined to unravel the secrets of her past and discover the truth--no matter what.

Chapter One


How long have I been awake? Is it morning yet?

I feel so rough. What happened last night? God, my head hurts. Okay, I'm never drinking again, ever.

I feel so woozy I can't even think, let alone . . .
***

Oww. How long have I been awake?

My head is splitting and kind of foggy. And my mouth is parched. This is the most monster hangover I've ever had. I'm never drinking again, ever.

Is that a voice?

No, I have to sleep . . .
***

How long have I been awake? Five minutes? Half an hour, maybe? It's kind of hard to tell.

What day is it, anyway?

For a moment I just lie still. My head is pounding with a rhythmic pain, like some sort of massive concrete-breaker. I'm dry-throated and aching all over. My skin feels like sandpaper.

Where was I last night? What's wrong with my brain? It's like a fog has descended over everything. I'm never drinking again. I must have alcohol poisoning or something. I'm trying to remember last night as hard as I can-but all that's coming into my head is stupid stuff. Old memories and images from the past, flashing by in random order, like some kind of iPod shuffle in my brain.

Sunflowers waving against a blue sky . . .

Amy as a newborn baby, looking like a little pink sausage in a blanket . . .

A plate of salty french fries on a wooden pub table; hot sunshine on my neck; my dad sitting opposite in a Panama hat, blowing out cigar smoke and telling me, "Eat up, sweetheart" . . .

The sack race at school. Oh God, not this memory again. I try to block it out, but too late, it's rushing in. . . . I'm seven years old, it's sports day, and I'm winning by miles, but it feels so uncomfortable to be out front that I stop and wait for all my friends. They catch up-then somehow in the melee I trip and wind up coming in last. I can still feel the humiliation, hear the laughter, feel the dust in my throat, the taste of bananas . . .

Hang on. Somehow I force my brain to hold steady for a moment.

Bananas.

Through the fog another memory is glimmering. I'm desperately trying to retrieve it, to reach for it . . .

Yes. Got it. Banana cocktails.

We were drinking cocktails at some club. That's all I can remember. Bloody banana cocktails. What on earth did they put in them?

I can't even open my eyes. They feel heavy and stuck down, like that time I used false eyelashes with dodgy glue from the market, then tottered into the bathroom the next morning to find one eye glued shut with what looked like a dead spider on top of it. Really attractive, Lexi.

Cautiously, I move a hand up to my chest and hear a rustle of sheets. They don't sound like the ones at home. And there's a weird lemony smell in the air, and I'm wearing some soft cottony T-shirt thing I don't recognize. Where am I? What on earth-

Hey. I didn't score, did I?

Oh wow. Was I unfaithful to Loser Dave? Am I wearing some hot guy's oversize T-shirt which I borrowed to sleep in after we had passionate sex all night and that's why I feel so bruised and sore-
No, I've never been unfaithful in my life. I must have stayed overnight with one of the girls or something. Maybe I'll get up, have a shower . . .

With a huge effort I wrench my eyes open and incline my head a few inches.
Shit. What the hell-

I'm lying in a d

Never Let Me Go

Annie Parks came to Hawaii to settle a score, not spend time handcuffed to a sexy stranger's bed'even if said stranger saved her from drowning after she was pitched overboard by some goons. Looking at six feet of hard, Hawaiian muscle and gorgeous cool that's making forgotten parts of her say, 'Aloha!,' Annie needs to stay focused. But a side dish of Kane Travers is awfully tempting.

Kauai Police Chief Kane Travers is not a vacation kind of guy. So it figures that when Internal Affairs suspended him, he'd end up rescuing a sarcastic, dishonest, extremely hot redhead who is clearly hiding something. Kane's got half a mind to give Miss Whoever She Is something she'll never forget, even if his cop senses tell him she needs his protection. But how can he get her to tell him anything when his mouth won't stop covering hers?