“You Were Always Good At Running, Ava.”
She slowly turned and faced Jared. “I didn’t think you’d care if I left—or notice for that matter.”
His eyes darkened. “I noticed. Your husband here?”
Her pulse skittered as she was reminded of the lie she’d been forced to tell.
“We’re not together anymore,” she said quietly.
“You walk out on him, too?”
Ava took a deep breath. “I understand that you’re angry with me, but that’s no reason to be downright cruel.”
“I’m not angry at you, Ava. You have to really care about someone to be angry with them.”
She felt her throat tighten as tears threatened. “Look, you obviously don’t want to see me. So let’s just try to steer clear of each other.”
Ava hesitated, then turned to leave. But he was right behind her, his large hand covering hers on the knob.
“Let go of the door, Ava,” he said. “This time I’m going to be the one walking out first.”
Dear Reader,
We’re so glad you’ve chosen Silhouette Desire because we have a lot of wonderful—and sexy!—stories for you. The month starts to heat up with The Boss Man’s Fortune by Kathryn Jensen. This fabulous boss/secretary novel is part of our ongoing continuity, DYNASTIES: THE DANFORTHS, and also reintroduces characters from another well-known family: The Fortunes. Things continue to simmer with Peggy Moreland’s The Last Good Man in Texas, a fabulous continuation of her series THE TANNERS OF TEXAS.
More steamy stuff is heading your way with Shut Up And Kiss Me by Sara Orwig, as she starts off a new series, STALLION PASS: TEXAS KNIGHTS. (Watch for the series to continue next month in Silhouette Intimate Moments.) The always-compelling Laura Wright is back with a hot-blooded Native American hero in Redwolf’s Woman. Storm of Seduction by Cindy Gerard will surely fire up your hormones with an alpha male hero out of your wildest fantasies. And Margaret Allison makes her Silhouette Desire debut with At Any Price, a book about sweet revenge that is almost too hot to handle!
And, as summer approaches, we’ll have more scorching love stories for you—guaranteed to satisfy your every Silhouette Desire!
Happy reading,
Melissa Jeglinski
Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire
Redwolf’s Woman
Laura Wright
LAURA WRIGHT
has spent most of her life immersed in the worlds of acting, singing and competitive ballroom dancing. But when she started writing romance, she knew she’d found the true desire of her heart! Although born and raised in Minneapolis, Laura has also lived in New York City, Milwaukee and Columbus, Ohio. Currently, she is happy to have set down her bags and make Los Angeles her home. And a blissful home it is—one that she shares with her theatrical production manager husband, Daniel, and three spoiled dogs. During those few hours of downtime from her beloved writing, Laura enjoys going to art galleries and movies, cooking for her hubby, walking in the woods, lazing around lakes, puttering in the kitchen and frolicking with her animals. Laura would love to hear from you. You can write to her at P.O. Box 5811, Sherman Oaks, CA 91413 or e-mail her at [email protected].
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
One
“He’s back.”
At her sister Rita’s words, Ava Thompson felt her heart drop into her pink satin pumps. “Who’s back?”
“The ever-gorgeous Jared Redwolf, that’s who,” Rita supplied with a smile.
From atop her white-carpeted pedestal at Benton’s Bridal and Formalwear, Ava stumbled sideways, letting fly a barely audible, “Ouch,” as Mrs. Benton accidentally stuck her with a pin.
“Hold still now,” said the older woman.
Barely hearing the good-natured reprimand, Ava stared down at her sister, her large green eyes severe. “What do you mean, he’s back? Back where?”
“Here in Paradise,” Rita said calmly, standing in front of the three-way mirror, fluffing her long, tawny curls. “He’s across the street actually. When I went for coffee I saw him go into the diner.” With a mischievous grin, she added, “And who could blame him? Did you know they have a patty melt, fries and a cherry cola, all for just $2.95 today?”
“Those patty melts are pure horse meat,” Mrs. Benton stated flatly as she pinned the hem of Ava’s stunning off-the-shoulder A-line number that her younger sister had designed to hit just above the ankle.
“Horsemeat.” Rita laughed, her dark-blue eyes sparkling. “That’s not true.”
Mrs. Benton shook her head dejectedly. “And to think, we’re living in beef country.”
They weren’t fooling anyone with their calm discussions of patty melts and cherry colas, Ava thought, taking in the pair’s secret glances. From the moment Rita had mentioned Jared Redwolf, Ava had felt the two women’s eyes on her, watching her like conspiring hawks—wanting to see her reaction to the news and wondering if her life was flashing before her eyes because of it.
A life that everyone in Paradise had known about. A life Ava had left four years ago.
A life she’d thought about every day since then in her small apartment on Manhattan’s Upper West Side.
The dated air conditioner against the ratty lavender wall sputtered and coughed as the Texas heat slowly invaded the room. Ava eyeballed her sister in the mirror. “I thought you said he was going to be in Dallas for the entire two weeks, Rita. ‘I have it on good authority,’ you said. ‘I swear, you’ll never run into him,’ you said.”
Rita shrugged. “Hey, what can I say, big sister? That’s what he told Pat Murphy at the post office.” She grinned, then placed a bridal veil over her face. “Maybe he heard you were back in town for my wedding and changed his mind.”
Mrs. Benton inhaled sharply, then looked up at Ava with eager, expectant eyes.
“Not a chance.” Ava glanced from one woman to the other. “The man despises me.”
“Despise is such a strong word,” Rita said.
“I think we should stop talking about her old beau for a moment,” Mrs. Benton said to Rita. “She’s moving about and I need to get a clean hem here. I sure don’t want to be the one catching heck if your maid of honor walks down the aisle in a crooked dress.”
Rita smiled at the woman. “How about I blame it on a certain six-foot-three Cheyenne god with a killer smile?”
Ava rolled her eyes. “He’s half Cheyenne.”
“And what a half,” Mrs Benton said on a sigh, then quickly returned to her hem.
Nothing had changed,