Wilder Days. Linda Winstead Jones
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“You can’t stay here tonight….” Victoria whispered.
“I can,” Del said harshly. “And I will.”
He took one step toward her. One step was all the room she had. With that simple movement, he robbed her of her safety zone, the shield that kept him at a distance. This close, she could feel his heat, see the stubble on his jaw. The faint, intriguing scent of his body drifted to her.
“You’re still angry,” he said, his voice softer now.
“Of course I’m still…”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, cupping her chin and forcing her to look him in the eye. And then he kissed her.
She’d known it was coming. She’d known, and yet she hadn’t taken her chance to step out of the danger zone and away from this kiss that was going to change everything. Her life. His. Her heart…
Dear Reader,
This month we have something really special on tap for you. The Cinderella Mission, by Catherine Mann, is the first of three FAMILY SECRETS titles, all of them prequels to our upcoming anthology Broken Silence and then a twelve book stand-alone FAMILY SECRETS continuity. These books are cutting edge, combining dark doings, mysterious experiments and overwhelming passion into a mix you won’t be able to resist. Next month, the story continues with Linda Castillo’s The Phoenix Encounter.
Of course, this being Intimate Moments, the excitement doesn’t stop there. Award winner Justine Davis offers up another of her REDSTONE, INCORPORATED tales, One of These Nights. A scientist who’s as handsome as he is brilliant finds himself glad to welcome his sexy bodyguard—and looking forward to exploring just what her job description means. Wilder Days (leading to wilder nights?) is the newest from reader favorite Linda Winstead Jones. It will have you turning the pages so fast, you’ll lose track of time. Ingrid Weaver begins a new military miniseries, EAGLE SQUADRON, with Eye of the Beholder. There will be at least two follow-ups, so keep your eyes open so you don’t miss them. Evelyn Vaughn, whose miniseries THE CIRCLE was a standout in our former Shadows line, makes her Intimate Moments debut with Buried Secrets, a paranormal tale that’s as passionate as it is spooky. And Aussie writer Melissa James is back with Who Do You Trust? This is a deeply emotional “friends become lovers” reunion romance, one that will captivate you from start to finish.
Enjoy! And come back next month for more of the best and most exciting romance around—right here in Silhouette Intimate Moments.
Leslie J. Wainger
Executive Senior Editor
Wilder Days
Linda Winstead Jones
LINDA WINSTEAD JONES
would rather write than do anything else. Since she cannot cook, gave up ironing many years ago and finds cleaning the house a complete waste of time, she has plenty of time to devote to her obsession for writing. Occasionally she’s tried to expand her horizons by taking classes. In the past she’s taken instruction on yoga, French (a dismal failure), Chinese cooking, cake decorating (food-related classes are always a good choice, even for someone who can’t cook), belly dancing (trust me, this was a long time ago) and, of course, creative writing.
She lives in Huntsville, Alabama, with her husband of more years than she’s willing to admit and the youngest of their three sons.
She can be reached via www.eHarlequin.com or her own Web site www.lindawinsteadjones.com.
This book is dedicated to
Leslie Wainger and Mary-Theresa Hussey, who gave me the chance to tell this story.
Contents
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
Epilogue
Chapter 1
Vic squirmed a little, trying without success to loosen the duct tape that bound her hands behind her back, her ankles to the rear legs of the metal chair, and her bare legs to Del’s blue-jeans-encased thighs. She straddled Del, and they were both snugly trussed to the chair and to one another, face-to-face. She glanced down as the man who had dragged her from her home that morning very carefully slid beneath the chair. He cradled something small and deadly looking in his large hands. Vic hadn’t thought it possible to be more frightened than she had been since the kidnapping, but the sight of that device made her heart beat a little harder, a little faster.
The second kidnapper, a petite blond woman, handed her partner more duct tape, and he tore off a long strip.
“You said you would let her go when I got here,” Del said between clenched teeth.
The blonde looked up at Del and smiled. “I lied.”
Del tried, as Vic did, to discreetly loosen the duct tape that bound him securely to the chair in this second-floor room of a deserted warehouse. Had the sight of that device scared him, too? He didn’t seem to be particularly frightened. Mainly, he looked annoyed.
“Whatever happened to professional courtesy?” Del asked, sounding as annoyed as he looked. He kept his eyes on the woman, who continued to kneel by the chair.
Vic shuddered. Professional courtesy?
The woman moved aside as her partner slithered from beneath the chair. The fair-haired man rubbed his palms together as he stood. “All done. Let’s get out of here.”
“You’re sure you didn’t forget anything?” the woman asked in a low, soothing voice.
“I didn’t forget anything.” The man sounded slightly offended.
“Good.” The blonde’s smile returned. “Let’s go.”
With one last quick wave, they did just that. They left the room, closing the door behind them even though this warehouse somewhere near the interstate had long been abandoned. From what little Vic could see through the uncovered window, they were far from anyone or anything that might be of help. The occasional hum of a large truck passing in the distance was all she could hear. The tops of trees, lush with summer growth, were all she could see through the dirty panes of glass in the single window in this room.
Since they were now alone Vic laid her eyes on Del, and found him staring at her. Eyes dark blue and intense, mouth an unhappy slash, he stared at her as if this was her fault.
“That was a bomb,” she said softly, wondering if something so simple as a raised voice might set it off.
“Yep.”
“We’re sitting on it.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
She hadn’t seen Del Wilder for sixteen years, until he’d appeared in the doorway of this very room not a half hour ago. Some things about him hadn’t changed. He