“I Don’t Know Why You Hide Yourself, Lane, But I See It,” Tyler Said.
Lane wasn’t going to ask what he saw. It would erect barriers she didn’t want right now. That should have warned her, but she ignored the warnings.
“And instead of my dreams haunting me with what making love to you might be like, I have that to keep me company.”
She blinked. “You dream of me. Of us?”
Lane didn’t think she could be more stunned. And more pleased. She’d given him absolutely no reason to think she wanted more, and here he was, making her feel incredibly sexy and wanted.
“I want to strip you down right now and taste every inch of you, but I won’t. We won’t. Not tonight.”
“That implies there will be another night.”
He smiled. “I was hoping you’d caught that….”
Thank you for choosing Silhouette Desire—where passion is guaranteed in every read. Things sure are heating up with our continuing series DYNASTIES: THE BARONES. Eileen Wilks’s With Private Eyes is a powerful romance that helps set the stage for the daring conclusion next month. And if it’s more continuing stories that you want—we have them. TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB: THE STOLEN BABY launches this month with Sara Orwig’s Entangled with a Texan.
The wonderful Peggy Moreland is on hand to dish up her share of Texas humor and heat with Baby, You’re Mine, the next installment of her TANNERS OF TEXAS series. Be sure to catch Peggy’s Silhouette Single Title, Tanner’s Millions, on sale January 2004. Award-winning author Jennifer Greene marks her much-anticipated return to Silhouette Desire with Wild in the Field, the first book in her series THE SCENT OF LAVENDER.
Also for your enjoyment this month, we offer Katherine Garbera’s second book in the KING OF HEARTS series. Cinderella’s Christmas Affair is a fabulous “it could happen to you” plot guaranteed to leave her fans extremely satisfied. And rounding out our selection of delectable stories is Awakening Beauty by Amy J. Fetzer, a steamy, sensational tale.
More passion to you!
Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire
Amy J. Fetzer
MILLS & BOON
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AMY J. FETZER
was born in New England and raised all over the world. She uses her own experiences in creating the characters and settings for her novels. Married more than twenty years to a United States Marine and the mother of two sons, Amy covets the moments when she can curl up with a cup of cappuccino and a good book.
R.H.S. Southern Pearls
With whom secrets are sacred
Fun is learning to be really lazy
And dessert before dinner takes on new meaning.
I love y’all.
It was moments like these that made Lane Douglas glad she’d changed her name. Elaina Honora Giovanni didn’t get involved with the police. Police reports meant giving your ID and putting the incident on the blotter, and that was open season for the press.
There was one particular member of the press corps out there just waiting to read her name somewhere and come hunting like a wolf for its prey.
And something as simple as a car accident would be enough to lead him right to her.
When the sound of screeching tires, splashing water and a loud solid crunch had registered, Lane knew before she whipped around that her car was the victim.
Attacked by a low-slung, silver sports car.
The impact popped open the trunk of her car.
“Buona fortuna as usual, Elaina,” she muttered to herself, dropping a box full of books on the porch of her shop, then rushing down the steps to the curb. Cold winter rain soaked through her clothes, matted her hair.
She could feel the tightly twisted bun on the top of her head sagging already.
Never good in a crisis, she looked first at the books in the trunk, then at the man still behind the wheel of his car. His loud cursing told her that he at least was uninjured. The car door opened and he climbed out, glaring at the damage before meeting her gaze.
“Are you all right?” he asked, and whipped out a cell phone.
“Fine, fine. I wasn’t in the car, remember? Are you okay?” she shouted over the rain.
“Yes, dammit.” He kicked the tire, then winced.
“Smart move,” she said.
He smiled at her, tipping the phone away for a second. “Tyler. Tyler McKay.”
She knew who he was. It was hard to live in Bradford, South Carolina, and not know the McKays. Rich, handsome and eligible didn’t begin to describe Tyler. With dark hair and light-blue eyes, he was the most noticed man in town. And that wasn’t even counting that long, lean body in a leather jacket and jeans.
She swung her gaze to their cars.
His hadn’t fared well against hers.
The sports car looked like an accordion halfway through a song.
Then she noticed the rain pouring over the crushed metal of her trunk like a stream over rocks and dribbling onto the carton of books.
“Oh, no, my stock!”
He barely glanced at it, still talking into the phone. Then he closed the cell phone and observed, “They’re ruined.”
She glared at him. “Yes, thank you for pointing that out. What was your first clue?” She tried shutting the trunk, but the twisted metal refused to oblige.