Authors: Stephanie James
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Out Of The Frying Pan…
"You're a woman who doesn't take chances."
"And you're a man who's accustomed to taking them."
"Going to spend your whole life looking for a sure thing?" he asked, green eyes steady.
"Perhaps," Rani said coolly. "What about you? Going to spend your whole life leaping from one job, one adventure, to another?"
"People change, Rani."
"When?"
"When they find what they're looking for."
"I'd have to be awfully sure," she said cautiously.
"Before you'd take a chance on a man?"
"Yes."
"I realize my track record isn't exactly reassuring."
"You're right."
"But I'm not a boy. I've been looking for something for a long time. Something it takes a man to recognize."
"You think you've found it?"
"I think so. But the lady is going to have to take a chance, too, before either of us can be certain."
Dear Reader,
Welcome to Silhouette! Our goal is to give you hours of unbeatable reading pleasure, and we hope you'll enjoy each month's six new Silhouette Desires. These sensual, provocative love stories are both believable and compelling—sometimes they're poignant, sometimes humorous, but always enjoyable.
Indulge yourself. Experience all the passion and excitement of falling in love along with our heroine as she meets the irresistible man of her dreams and together they overcome all obstacles in the path to a happy ending.
If this is your first Desire, I hope it'll be the first of many. If you're already a Silhouette Desire reader, thanks for your support! Look for some of your favorite authors in the coming months: Stephanie James, Diana Palmer, Dixie Browning, Ann Major and Doreen Owens Malek, to name just a few.
Happy reading!
Isabel Swift Senior Editor
300 East 42nd St.,
New York, N.Y. 10017
Copyright © 1986 by Jayne Krentz, Inc.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd St., New York, N. Y. 10017
ISBN: 0-373-05277-4
First Silhouette Books printing May 1986
All the characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
SILHOUETTE, SILHOUETTE DESIRE and colophon are registered trademarks of the publisher.
America's Publisher of Contemporary Romance Printed in the U.S.A.
Books by Stephanie James
Silhouette Desire
Corporate Affair #1
Velvet Touch #11
Lover in Pursuit
#19
Renaissance Man
#25
Reckless Passion
#31
Price of Surrender
#37
Affair of Honor
#49
To Tame the Hunter
#55
Gamemaster
#67
The Silver Snare
#85
Battle Prize
#97
Body Guard
#103
Gambler's Woman
#115
Fabulous Beast
#127
Night of the Magician
#145
Nightwalker
#163
The Devil to Pay
# 187
Wizard
#211
Golden Goddess
#235
Cautious Lover
#253
Green Fire
#277
Silhouette Intimate Moments
Serpent in Paradise
#9
Raven's Prey
#21
Silhouette Romance
Passionate Business
#89
Silhouette Special Edition
Dangerous Magic
#15
Stormy Challenge
#35
STEPHANIE JAMES
readily admits that the chief influence on her writing is her "lifelong addiction to romantic daydreaming." She has spent the last nine years living and working with her engineer husband in a wide variety of places, including the Caribbean, the Southeast and the Pacific Northwest. Ms. James currently resides in California.
His eyes were the color of the green stone in the ring on her hand. Rani Garroway registered that fact in the same instant she realized she'd opened the door to the wrong man. She was startled off balance and oddly shocked. Not just because she'd made a mistake in opening the door, but because of those eyes. The wind howled in the darkness beyond her doorstep, driving the rain through the tall pines and sturdy fir trees. The stranger didn't vanish with the next crackle of lightning. He continued to stand there in front of her, looking like a battle-scarred alley cat demanding shelter from the storm. His green eyes locked with hers.
"I'm sorry," Rani managed, wondering what to do next. "When I heard your knock I assumed you were someone else." Then a sense of self-protection came into play. The local mountain community, normally quiet, was filled with hunters arriving for the fall deer season. That meant a lot of strangers in the area. Armed strangers. Strangers who often mixed guns and alcohol. Her best bet was to make sure this man knew she wouldn't be alone for long. "I'm expecting someone else, you see. He'll be here any moment."
The man ignored her comment the same way he was ignoring the fact that he was drenched from the downpour. There was little shelter from the rain to be had from the porch roof. It leaked like a sieve. His gaze went briefly to the ring on her hand and then back to her tense, uncertain features.
"I'm Flint Cottrell." The voice was low, rough, unpolished; the voice of a man who didn't spend a lot of time discussing art films or vintage wine years. "I work here."
That was enough to trigger all of Rani's interior alarms. "The hell you do," she said, and slammed the door in his face. The phone. She would get to the phone and call Mike. If he didn't answer she would know he was on his way. If he did answer, she could tell him to hurry. Rani was slamming the dead bolt in place when something nudged her foot. She jerked back and then glanced down, unnerved and irritated because of it.
"Get out of the way Zinp. There's somebody out there, and he reminds me far too much of you."
The mottled brown tomcat looked up at her with streetwise eyes. He had dashed into temporary hiding when the first knock had sounded on the door. It was his standard routine. Zipp didn't like strangers, especially male strangers. He disappeared and sulked for a long time when people came calling on Rani. This time he hadn't stayed out of sight very long, though, Rani noted distractedly. Here he was already, looking curious. This wasn't part of his normal response.
When the impatient knock sounded again on the door, the huge cat rumbled something that was presumably a question. Rani paid no attention. She turned away, hurry-ing across the room to where the phone stood on an old pine table. The knock came again as she was dialing Mike Slater's number. Rani's fingers shook slightly as she stood staring at the door, the receiver to her ear. The line was busy.
Rani lowered the instrument slowly into its cradle, her eyes never leaving the door. She was debating with herself about what to do next and seriously wondering whether to slip out through the kitchen, when she saw the dirty white envelope being shoved under the door.