Authors: Cherry Adair
Hush
“Exceptional!”
âRomantic Times
“Enticing!”
âSeattle Post-Intelligencer
“Spicy!”
âLibrary Journal
“Heart-stopping!”
âPublishers Weekly
“Highly charged!”
âRendezvous
Praise for
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author
CHERRY ADAIR
and her irresistible romantic suspense novels
BLACK MAGIC
“Adair keeps the pace brisk and the action vivid. This book should appeal to readers who like bickering protagonists, plenty of sex, and a hero who always comes to the rescue.”
â
Publishers Weekly
“Adair's version of wizards and magic makes a much-welcomed return in a hot new adventure that brings estranged lovers back into contact.”
â
Romantic Times
NIGHT SHADOW
“Smoothly blends sensuality and espionage. ⦔
â
Publishers Weekly
“Pulse-pounding ⦠all the danger, treachery, and romance a reader could wish for. ⦠Exceptional.”
â
Romantic Times
“Cherry Adair's intricately woven plot ⦠will make your pulse race and your palms sweat.”
âFresh Fiction
NIGHT SECRETS
“Tremendous!”
â
Romantic Times
“The night sizzles to new heights in these novels of romantic suspense.”
âFresh Fiction
WHITE HEAT
“A steamy fusion of romance and heart-stopping suspense.”
â
Publishers Weekly
“Heart-stopping adventure ⦠spicy.”
â
Library Journal
HOT ICE
“A relentless page-turner with plenty of enticing plot twists and turns.”
â
Seattle Post-Intelligencer
“A very sexy adventure that offers nonstop, continent-hopping action from start to finish.”
â
Library Journal
HIDE AND SEEK
“Cherry Adair stokes up the heat and intrigue in her adventurous thriller.”
â
Romantic Times
“Wow, it's gripping, sexy as all get out, and the characters will send you into orbit in steam heat ⦠enough chills to keep you on an adrenaline high for the duration of the story.”
âThe Belles and Beaux of Romance
“Full of highly charged sensuality and violence.”
â
Rendezvous
“Outsize protagonists, super-nasty villains, and earthy sex scenes.”
â
Publishers Weekly
“A reason to stay up way too late.”
âThe Romance Journal
KISS AND TELL
“A sexy, snappy roller-coaster ride!”
â
New York Times
bestselling author Susan Andersen
“A true keeper.”
â
Romantic Times
Also by Cherry Adair
Black Magic
Available from Pocket Star Books
| Pocket Star Books |
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2011 by Cherry Adair
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books Subsidiary Rights Department, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
First Pocket Star Books paperback edition May 2011
POCKET STAR BOOKS and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at
www.simonspeakers.com
.
Cover design by Lisa Litwack
Cover illustration by Craig White
Manufactured in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
ISBN 978-1-4391-5382-6
ISBN 978-1-4391-6711-3 (ebook)
For Virginia Finucane
I'm grateful every day for our friendship. The fact that you're a talented and gifted graphic artist and have given me an awesome website is icing on my cake.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
TO K.S., FOR YOUR
awesome firsthand tales of BASE jumping. Thank you for offering, but the answer is still a firm and resounding no. Never!
To Tara F., for your assistance with the translations. You went the extra mile. My bad guys should have their mouths washed out with soap. Good for you.
To Yoselin and Elvis Rojas, for your help with all things Venezuelan. No, I don't think my readers would each pay you even one dollar for my safe return. But it was sweet of you to suggest sharing the ransom.
Any mistakes in this work are mine. (Except for that one thing,
that
was not my fault. But you know who you are!)
H
USH
ONE
Venezuela
Tuesday
5:33 A.M.
T
hree things happened simultaneously: the soft, warm curve of a woman's bare ass tucked enticingly against Zakary Stark's good-morning-happy-to-feel-you erection, the familiar gut-wrenching realization that she was the
wrong
woman, and the cold hard metal of a gun barrel pressed to his temple.
The tantalizing fragrance of fresh, jasmine-scented female, coupled with the erotic base note of last night's sex, was obliterated by the sour stench of stale male sweat.
Fuckit
. Hell of a way to start the day.
Zak's heartbeat ratcheted up a notch, and his entire body stiffened in reaction to the threat.
“¡
No te muevas!
” Pure menace infused the instruction to remain still; the words, spoken in the local dialect and punctuated by another motivational jab a millimeter from his eye, got Zak's head back in the game.
Zak spoke fluent Spanish, but he wasn't going to show his hand until he knew what the guy wanted. His gut urged him to get the hell off the swaybacked mattress. Fast. But he wasn't going to be speedy enough to beat the man's finger on that trigger.
He processed the situation. While he was all for taking crazy risks in an attempt at kick-starting a spark of giving a shit about life in general, he wasn't alone.
He
might not give a flying fuck if he died one way or the other, but Zak suspected the woman probably didn't hold the same disregard for
her
life as he did for
his
.
He was no goddamn hero. Pissed him off to be put in a position where he had to accept that he was going to be responsible either for another woman's death or, worse, for ensuring that she stayed alive.
Hero or coward. It was a toss-up which would kill him quicker.
The bed was shoved against the wall, and
she
lay between him and the man with the gun. God damn it. He
hated
guns. Kathy? Christy? ⦠the American he'd met in the bar the night before went from limp to tense between one heartbeat and the next as she realized they weren't alone.
Zak cracked open the eye not pressed into the fragrant curve of her neck and looked through a mass of corn silk blond hair. Fuckit. Not just
one
intruder. In the murky light of dawn he made out three silhouettes, and heard the shuffle of several more pairs of boots out of his line of sight.
Fatigues. Boots. Weapons. More than an audience. A whole fucking predawn party.
Military? Locals? Guerrillas?
Three crappy choices.
Lips against the woman's ear, Zak whispered, “Stay still,” and felt the uneven thud of her accelerated heartbeat beneath the hand cupped around her breast. She let out a small shuddering breath and froze as he spoke more loudly to the guy with the gun. “I'm unarmed.”