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Long Time Coming [Mass Market Paperback]

Sandra Brown
4.6 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (14 customer reviews)
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Book Description

Aug. 29 2006
In more than fifty New York Times bestselling novels, Sandra Brown has captivated her millions of readers with stories of charismatic love and tantalizing twists of fate. In this classic tale, a woman is reunited with the man she has loved for years—and must reveal the secret that will jeopardize her chance for happiness at last.

He arrived out of the blue—a flesh-and-blood phantom from the past in a sports car as sleek and sexy as Law Kincaid himself. The world-famous astronaut was as devastatingly attractive as the first time Marnie Hibbs had laid eyes on him, seventeen years before. But she well knew the perils of falling for a ladies’ man like Law. And this time she had someone besides herself to protect. Law is determined to discover who is sending him anonymous letters claiming he’d fathered a son he knows nothing about. Showing up at the Hibbs’s return address from the letters seemed like a step in the right direction. Marnie swears she isn’t the guilty party, but when Law meets her son, it’s like a one-two punch to his solar plexus. The boy is nearly the spitting image of Law. Law can’t remember sleeping with Marnie—then again, he can’t remember much about his crazy past. But there’s more to it than that: Marnie claims the boy isn’t biologically hers.

As the tension between them becomes unbearable and the attraction undeniable, Marnie is forced to reveal a long-held secret...one that might cause her to lose both the boy she loves more than anyone—and the man she desires more than anything.

From the Hardcover edition.

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Product Details

Product Description

About the Author

Sandra Brown is the author of more than fifty New York Times bestsellers, with over seventy million copies of her books in print. She and her family divide their time between South Carolina and Texas.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Chapter One

The Porsche crept along the street like a sleek black panther. Hugging the curb, its engine purred so deep and low it sounded like a predator's growl.

Marnie Hibbs was kneeling in the fertile soil of her flower bed, digging among the impatiens under the ligustrum bushes and cursing the little bugs that made three meals a day of them, when the sound of the car's motor attracted her attention. She glanced at it over her shoulder, then panicked as it came to a stop in front of her house.

"Lord, is it that late?" she muttered. Dropping her trowel, she stood up and brushed the clinging damp earth off her bare knees.

She reached up to push her dark bangs off her forehead before she realized that she still had on her heavy gardening gloves. Quickly she peeled them off and dropped them beside the trowel, all the while watching the driver get out of the sports car and start up her front walk.

Glancing at her wristwatch, she saw that she hadn't lost track of time. He was just very early for their appointment, and as a result, she wasn't going to make a very good first impression. Being hot, sweaty, and dirty was no way to meet a client. And she needed this commission badly.

Forcing a smile, she moved down the sidewalk to greet him, nervously trying to remember if she had left the house and studio reasonably neat when she decided to do an hour's worth of yard work. She had planned to tidy up before he arrived.

She might look like the devil, but she didn't want to appear intimidated. Self-confident friendliness was the only way to combat the disadvantage of having been caught looking her worst.

He was still several yards away from her when she greeted him. "Hello," she said with a bright smile. "Obviously we got our signals switched. I thought you weren't coming until later."

"I decided this diabolical game of yours had gone on long enough."

Marnie's sneakers skidded on the old concrete walk as she came to an abrupt halt. She tilted her head in stunned surprise. "I'm sorry, I--"

"Who the hell are you, lady?"

"Miss Hibbs. Who do you think?"

"Never heard of you. Just what the devil are you up to?"

"Up to?" She glanced around helplessly, as though the giant sycamores in her front yard might provide an answer to this bizarre interrogation.

"Why've you been sending me those letters?"


He was clearly furious, and her lack of comprehension only seemed to make him angrier. He bore down on her like a hawk on a field mouse, until she had to bow her back to look up at him. The summer sun was behind him, casting him in silhouette.

He was blond, tall, trim, and dressed in casual slacks and a sport shirt--all stylish, impeccably so. He was wearing opaque aviator glasses, so she couldn't see his eyes, but if they were as belligerent as his expression and stance, she was better off not seeing them.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"The letters, lady, the letters." He strained the words through a set of strong white teeth.

"What letters?"

"Don't play dumb."

"Are you sure you've got the right house?"

He took another step forward. "I've got the right house," he said in a voice that was little more than a snarl.

"Obviously you don't." She didn't like being put on the defensive, especially by someone she'd never met over something of which she was totally ignorant. "You're either crazy or drunk, but in any case, you're wrong. I'm not the person you're looking for and I demand that you leave my property. Now."

"You were expecting me. I could tell by the way you spoke to me."

"I thought you were the man from the advertising agency."

"Well, I'm not."

"Thank God." She would hate having to do business with someone this irrational and ill-tempered.

"You know damn well who I am," he said, peeling off the sunglasses.

Marnie sucked in a quick, sharp breath and fell back a step because she did indeed know who he was. She raised a hand to her chest in an attempt at keeping her jumping heart in place. "Law," she gasped.

"That's right. Law Kincaid. Just like you wrote it on the envelopes."

She was shocked to see him after all these years, standing only inches in front of her. This time he wasn't merely a familiar image in the newspaper or on her television screen. He was flesh and blood. The years had been kind to that flesh, improving his looks, not eroding them.

She wanted to stand and stare, but he was staring at her with unmitigated contempt and no recognition at all. "Let's go inside, Mr. Kincaid," she suggested softly.

Several of her neighbors, who had been taking advantage of the sunny weekend weather to do yard chores, had stopped moving, edging, and watering to gawk at the car and Miss Hibbs's visitor.
It wasn't out of the ordinary for a man to come to her house. Many of her clients were men and most of them consulted with her there. Generally they were stodgy executives in dark business suits. Few had deep tans, looked like movie stars, and drove such ostentatious cars.

This area of Houston wasn't glitzy like some of the newer neighborhoods. Most of the residents were middle-aged and drove sensible sedans. A Porsche on the block was a curious thing indeed. And to her neighbors' recollections, Marnie Hibbs had never engaged in a shouting match with anyone.

She turned on the squeaky rubber soles of her sneakers and led Law Kincaid up the sidewalk and through the front door of her house. Air-conditioning was a welcome respite from the humidity outside, but since she was damp with perspiration, the colder air chilled her. Or maybe it was her distinct awareness of the man behind her that was giving her goose bumps.

"This way."

She led him down a spacious hallway, the kind that could be found only in houses built before World War II, and toward the glassed-in back porch, which served as her studio. There she felt more at home, more at ease, and better able to deal with the astonishing reality that Law Kincaid had unexpectedly walked into her life again.

When she turned to face him, his arctic-blue eyes were darting around the studio. They connected with hers like magnets.

"Well?" he said tersely, placing his hands on his hips. He was obviously awaiting a full explanation for something Marnie was in the dark about herself.

"I don't know anything about any letters, Mr. Kincaid."

"They were mailed from this address."

"Then there's been a mistake at the post office."

"Unlikely. Not five times over the course of several weeks. Look, Mrs. uh . . . what was it again?"

"Hibbs. Miss Hibbs."

He gave her a swift, inquisitive once-over. "Miss Hibbs, I've been a bachelor for thirty-nine years.

"It's been a while since puberty. I don't remember every woman I've gone to bed with."

Her heart did another little dance number, and she took a quick, insufficient breath. "I've never been to bed with you."

He threw one hip slightly off-center and cocked his head arrogantly. "Then how is it that you claim to have mothered a son by me? A son I'd never even heard of until I got your first letter several weeks ago."

Marnie stared at him with speechless dismay. She could feel the color draining from her face. It felt like the world had been yanked from beneath her feet.

"I've never had a child. And I repeat, I never sent you a letter." She gestured at a chair. "Why don't you sit down?" She didn't offer him a seat out of courtesy or any concern for his comfort. She was afraid that if she didn't sit, and soon, her knees would buckle beneath her.

He thought about it for a moment, gnawing irritably on the corner of his lower lip before he moved to a rattan chair. He sat down on the very edge of the cushion, as though wanting to be ready to spring off it if the need arose.

Self-conscious of her muddy sneakers, ragged cutoffs, and ancient T-shirt, Marnie sat in the matching chair facing his. She sat straight, keeping her dirty knees together and clasping her hands nervously on the tops of her thighs.

She felt unclothed and vulnerable as his incisive eyes moved over her, taking in her face, her uncombed hair, her yard work attire, and her grubby knees.

"You recognized me." He shot the sentence at her like a missile.

"Anybody who watches TV or reads a newspaper would recognize you. You're the most popular astronaut since John Glenn."

"And therefore I'm a visible target for every nutcase who comes down the pike."

"I am not a nutcase!"

"Then why the hell have you been sending me those letters? That's not even an original idea, you know. I get several dozen a day."


"They're not all fan letters. Some are hate mail from the religious crazies who believe we're going where God never intended man to go. Some credit God with the Challenger accident--His punishment for our tampering with heaven or nonsense to that effect. I've had proposals of marriage and of other assorted liaisons of a prurient and/or perverted nature," he said dryly.

"How nice for you."

Ignoring her snide remark, he continued. "But your letters had a stroke of originality. You were the first one to claim that I was the father of your child."

"Don't you listen? I told you I've never had a child. How could you possibly be the father?"

"My point exactly, Miss Hibbs!" he shouted.

Marnie stood. So did he. He tracked her when she moved to her draf...

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Customer Reviews

4.6 out of 5 stars
4.6 out of 5 stars
Most helpful customer reviews
By A Customer
Format:Mass Market Paperback
I read this book when it was first issued, have read it periodically through the years, and just seeing the title evokes for me all the emotions I felt the very first time. In other words, it's a keeper. It exemplifies series romance at its best, and showcases Ms. Brown at the top of her game. An emotionally honest and refreshing story, it undoubtedly broke new ground in the genre with flawed but sympathetic lead characters. Typical of a Sandra Brown book, the love scenes are highly sensual, even raw, but not gratuitously so. They make sense given the inevitable clash of the hero's celebrity-driven ego and the heroine's repressed emotions. A super-fast read, the ending is exceptionally satisfying in intensity and length, unlike many books today that seem to want to wrap everything up in one and a half pages, and leave you yearning for more. Kudos to a wonderfully written, timeless reissue.
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4.0 out of 5 stars Not her best March 20 2001
Format:Mass Market Paperback
I just saw this book at the library and picked it up. Sandra Brown is one of my favorite authors, but this book lacked her usual character developments. Though I admit that it was a nice storyline, it wasn't as well-written as some of her other books. I especially liked the character of David; he seemed really mature and understanding. I didn't really understand how Law could fall for Mariene. She seemed to cry and run away too much. However, for a quick and fun read, I recommend this book.
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4.0 out of 5 stars Not so long in coming Nov. 29 2001
Format:Mass Market Paperback
As an avid Sandra Brown fan, I will first say of course I loved this book. But however, it is not one of her best. I struggled with the fact that Law comes into the life of David with no real regard to the woman that had been his mother for 16yrs. How like an irresponsible dad to just sail in and take over when it happens to be convenient. But like all romances there is a happy ending. Don't let this be your first Sandra Brown or it may be your last.
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4.0 out of 5 stars An Enjoyable Read Aug. 3 2006
By Ian Gordon Malcomson HALL OF FAME TOP 10 REVIEWER
Format:Mass Market Paperback
This was a quick, enjoyable read. The one inconsistency in the story was Marnie's refusal to let David (her nephew whom she regarded as a son) go and then, out of the blue, sending him to live with his father for an indefinite period. That didn't make sense. As for the father's 'normal' lifestyle, it seemed rather immoral to me in terms of the overall tone of the book.
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5.0 out of 5 stars Fun snack for romance fans. May 16 2001
By mirope
Format:Mass Market Paperback
For me, this is what Sandra Brown does best - a quick, fun contemporary romance. The story is sweet, the characters are engaging and the plot focuses almost exclusively on the relationship between the lead characters. I think an astronaut makes the perfect contemporary hero. This is a great one-sitting read.
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5.0 out of 5 stars Short but rewarding story. Couldn't put it down. May 30 1998
Format:Mass Market Paperback
A 90's kind of story, cocky stud meets down to earth girl who has raised his son to be a surprisingly normal kid who is well like and has a great sense of humor. I enjoyed the arguments between Marnie and Law and the sexual tension! As good a book as Adam's Fall.
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Format:Mass Market Paperback|Verified Purchase
this author has a way with keeping me on my feet; never knowing where she is going i feel lost but i like it and feel compelled to go further till the end of the book
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