The Perfect Target. Jenna Mills

      Miranda’s mouth went dry when she saw Allessandro standing in the shadows.

      He was wearing nothing but a pair of well-worn camouflage pants and a white undershirt that emphasized the darkness of his tan, the strength of his chest. In his hand he held his semiautomatic, as if it were as an impenetrable shield between him and the world. In his eyes glittered a harshness she didn’t understand, a look that was equal parts pain and pleasure.

      Dangerous, she thought. Not just because he held a gun in one hand and her life in the other, but because his brutal exterior couldn’t hide the glimmer of compassion deep inside him.

      He didn’t move, didn’t speak. He just watched her, the light from across the street slashing in, momentarily rescuing him from the shadows, then returning him to darkness.

      Something deep inside her started to tremble. Dangerous…

      Dear Reader,

      “In like a lion, out like a lamb.” That’s what they say about March, right? Well, there are no meek and mild lambs among this month’s Intimate Moments heroines, that’s for sure! In Saving Dr. Ryan, Karen Templeton begins a new miniseries, THE MEN OF MAYES COUNTY, while telling the story of a roadside delivery—yes, the baby kind—that leads to an improbable romance. Maddie Kincaid starts out looking like the one who needs saving, but it’s really Dr. Ryan Logan who’s in need of rescue.

      We continue our trio of FAMILY SECRETS prequels with The Phoenix Encounter by Linda Castillo. Follow the secret-agent hero deep under cover—and watch as he rediscovers a love he’d thought was dead. But where do they go from there? Nina Bruhns tells a story of repentance, forgiveness and passion in Sins of the Father, while Eileen Wilks offers up tangled family ties and a seemingly insoluble dilemma in Midnight Choices. For Wendy Rosnau’s heroine, there’s only One Way Out as she chooses between being her lover’s mistress—or his wife. Finally, Jenna Mills’ heroine becomes The Perfect Target. She meets the seemingly perfect man, then has to decide whether he represents safety—or danger.

      The excitement never flags—and there will be more next month, too. So don’t miss a single Silhouette Intimate Moments title, because this is the line where you’ll find the best and most exciting romance reading around.

      Enjoy!

      Leslie J. Wainger

      Executive Senior Editor

      The Perfect Target

      Jenna Mills

      

www.millsandboon.co.uk

      JENNA MILLS

      grew up in south Louisiana, amid romantic plantation ruins, haunting swamps and timeless legends. It’s not surprising, then, that she wrote her first romance at the ripe old age of six! Three years later, this librarian’s daughter turned to romantic suspense with Jacquie and the Swamp, a harrowing tale of a young woman on the run in the swamp and the dashing hero who helps her find her way home. Since then her stories have grown in complexity, but her affinity for adventurous women and dangerous men has remained constant. She loves writing about strong characters torn between duty and desire, conscious choice and destiny.

      When not writing award-winning stories brimming with deep emotion, steamy passion and page-turning suspense, Jenna spends her time with her husband, two cats, two dogs and a menagerie of plants in their Dallas, Texas, home. Jenna loves to hear from her readers. She can be reached via e-mail at [email protected], or via snail mail at P.O. Box 768, Coppell, Texas 75019.

      For my terrific editor, Stephanie Maurer…

      this one is all yours!

      Thanks for the inspiration and collaboration.

       I’ll always remember our thunderstorm in New Orleans.

      Thanks also to Patrick and the rest of the SPSS gang,

       for helping make this book possible.

      And always, my husband, Chuck.

       You are my light. I love you more than words can express.

      Contents

      Prologue

      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

      Prologue

      Two roads diverged in a wood

      And I took the one less traveled by

      And that has made all the difference.

      —Robert Frost

      “Turn on your TV.”

      Alessandro Vellenti squinted through the darkness of his Lisbon hotel room. He’d seen closets bigger, closets dedicated solely to shoes and handbags. But the small room had a shower, and that’s all he’d really wanted.

      Well, maybe not all he wanted, but all he could have.

      Night had fallen while he’d stood under the spray of a lukewarm shower, trying to ignore the metallic smell of the water. Now, flashing lights from the discotheque across the street cut through the threadbare curtains like something straight out of a macabre horror flick.

      “My TV?” He positioned the mobile phone against his shoulder and fumbled for the bedside lamp. Anticipation increased his heart rate. Javier was hardly a television kind of guy. Sandro doubted his partner wanted him to see the newest reality show to disgrace the airwaves. “What’s going on?”

      “Something big. What took you so long to answer the phone? I’m not finally interrupting something, am I?”

      Sandro ignored the jab and wrapped a threadbare towel around his hips. Rivulets of water clung to his chest and slid down his legs, but he didn’t finish drying. There was no need. The room reeked of stale cigarettes and harsh antiseptic, but the temperature was only slightly cool. Sandro had certainly endured colder. And hotter.

      He preferred the hot. “I’m not a kiss-and-tell kind of guy,” he muttered, looking for the remote. “What’s going on?”

      “Jorak Zhukov was arrested crossing into the United States from Canada. The ambassador to Ravakia is giving an interview right now.”

      Finally, the urgency in Javier’s voice made sense. Implications and questions immediately surfaced, raised more questions. “Was he by himself?”

      “Apparently.”

      Sandro went down on one knee, locating the remote under the narrow bed, adjacent to a skimpy black bra and slinky white scarf. He didn’t even want to think about how the erotic garments had found their way under the bed. Doing so would be too depressing. Instead, he aimed the ancient control at the pathetic excuse for a television across the room.

      Nothing happened. “Has he been charged with anything?”

      “Just traveling on a falsified visa. So far. But I can’t imagine the United States letting him slip through their fingers, not after what happened to