Danger Becomes You. Annette Broadrick

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      “Are You Afraid Of Me?” Jase Asked.

      “Not at all,” Leslie replied.

      “I would never take advantage of you,” he said softly. “Please believe me.”

      She turned and looked at his shadowy figure. “I do.”

      “Leslie?” There was a long pause. “Never mind.”

      She walked over to him and knelt beside his bed. “Tell me, Jason.”

      He sighed. “I was thinking we could stay warmer if we shared a bed. I told you it was stupid. Good night,” he said abruptly.

      “Jason? Do you want me to sleep with you?”

      Dear Reader,

      Sit back, relax and indulge yourself with all the fabulous offerings from Silhouette Desire this October. Roxanne St. Claire is penning the latest DYNASTIES: THE ASHTONS with The Highest Bidder. Youngest Ashton sibling, Paige, finds herself participating in a bachelorette auction and being “won” by a sexy stranger. Strangers also make great protectors, as demonstrated by Annette Broadrick in Danger Becomes You, her most recent CRENSHAWS OF TEXAS title.

      Speaking of protectors, Michelle Celmer’s heroine in Round-the-Clock Temptation gets a bodyguard of her very own: a member of the TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB. Linda Conrad wraps up her miniseries THE GYPSY INHERITANCE with A Scandalous Melody. Will this mysterious music box bring together two lonely hearts? For something a little darker, why not try Secret Nights at Nine Oaks by Amy J. Fetzer? A handsome recluse, an antebellum mansion—two great reasons to stay indoors. And be sure to catch Heidi Betts’s When the Lights Go Down, the story of a plain-Jane librarian out to make some serious changes in her humdrum love life.

      As you can see, Silhouette Desire has lots of great stories for you to enjoy. So spend this first month of autumn cuddled up with a good book—and come back next month for even more fabulous reads.

      Enjoy!

      Melissa Jeglinski

      Senior Editor

      Silhouette Desire

      Danger Becomes You

      Annette Broadrick

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      ANNETTE BROADRICK

      believes in romance and the magic of life. Since 1984, Annette has shared her view of life and love with readers. In addition to being nominated by Romantic Times magazine as one of the Best New Authors of that year, she has also won the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best in its Series; the Romantic Times WISH Award; and the Romantic Times magazine Lifetime Achievement Awards for Series Romance and Series Romantic Fantasy.

      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

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Epilogue

      One

      A slight sound outside the cabin brought Jason Crenshaw awake and on full alert. He must have fallen asleep while reading. Someone was outside despite the ferocity of the winter snowstorm that would keep any sensible person inside.

      Could it be someone looking for him? He couldn’t imagine who it could be. Only his commanding officer knew that he was using a friend’s hunting cabin in Michigan to recuperate from his wounds.

      Jase eased his way out of the chair and picked up his cane. He palmed his military-issue pistol out of habit and silently moved to the window.

      He couldn’t see the small porch and its overhang from this angle but he had a clear view of the driveway that led to the road. There were no tracks. Although the snow was blowing heavily, there was no way it could have covered tracks that quickly.

      His years in Delta Force made him wary and alert to everything around him and he instinctively knew that what he’d heard, despite the loud fury of the storm, was someone stepping onto the single wooden step to the porch. Who was it and how did they get here?

      He didn’t like surprises and he especially didn’t like unexpected guests.

      A firm knock sounded and he edged to the locked door.

      “Who’s there?” he demanded. His voice sounded rusty from disuse.

      “I’m sorry to bother you,” a woman’s shaking voice replied. “My car slid off the road and I’m stuck in a ditch. May I use your phone to call for help?”

      He didn’t like her story. The road that passed his house wasn’t one of the main highways in the state. In fact, it ended at the lake about fifteen miles from here. What was she doing on this secondary road in the first place?

      When he didn’t answer, she spoke again. “Hello? I know I’m a bother, I just—”

      He unlocked the door and opened it just enough to see the snow-encrusted figure in front of him. She wore a lightweight coat with a hood. The coat stopped at her thighs, revealing jeans and winter boots. Her eyes were the golden color of aged whiskey and her face looked pale as death.

      The word he muttered was unprintable. Just what he needed: a damsel in distress when he wasn’t in any shape or mood to play a blasted gallant knight.

      He swung the door wide, the pistol at his side. “Get in so I can close the door.”

      She hurriedly stepped inside. After he slammed the door shut and locked it, he turned and caught the woman looking at him in abject terror, her gaze frozen on the pistol in his hand. What did she think he was going to do, shoot anyone who showed up at his door?

      Without commenting on her obvious fear, he moved to the table and laid the pistol down.

      He turned and stared at her still huddled by the door.

      She looked frozen.

      Not his problem.

      She was shaking.

      Not his problem.

      The snow she’d brought in was melting off her clothes and dripping onto the floor.

      Now that was his problem.

      “Look, lady. I have no intention of shooting you, so get that coat off before I have to wipe water off the floor.”

      “Oh!” She looked down and saw the puddle around her feet. She quickly slipped off her coat and looked around for a place to put it.

      The electricity had gone off a couple of hours ago and the large rectangular room was in shadows except for the kerosene lantern on the table by the chair in which he’d been reading.

      “There’s a coatrack by the door,” he said gruffly.

      He watched her remove her gloves and hang up her coat before she wiped down her jeans with her hands. When she turned to look around the cabin, her face telegraphed