Marrying Mike...Again
“I’ve spent four long years getting you out of my system, Mike,” Sandra whispered hoarsely, her eyes glistening with tears. “I don’t want you back. I can’t afford to have you back.”
“Why not?” he rasped, the taste of her still on his lips. “You felt it, too—”
“Of course I felt it!
Passion was never our problem, Mike. You could look at me and I’d burst into flames. But what about outside the bedroom? What about real life?”
“Sandra, what do you want from me?”
“
I don’t know.
I…just… I want you to go home.”
“Fine,” he said savagely. Blood was still pounding in his veins. He was angry. And confused. Then he looked at Sandra, and desire took over again.
He took a step forward. She cut him off.
“You walked away easily enough once before, Mike,” she said. “Don’t tell me you can’t do it now….”
Dear Reader,
Happy New Year! Silhouette Intimate Moments is starting the year off with a bang—not to mention six great books. Why not begin with the latest of THE PROTECTORS, Beverly Barton’s miniseries about men no woman can resist? In
Murdock’s Last Stand,
a well-muscled mercenary meets his match in a woman who suddenly has him thinking of forever.
Alicia Scott returns with
Marrying Mike… Again,
an intense reunion story featuring a couple who are both police officers with old hurts to heal before their happy ending. Try Terese Ramin’s
A Drive-By Wedding
when you’re in the mood for suspense, an undercover agent hero, an irresistible child and a carjacked heroine who ends up glad to go along for the ride. Already known for her compelling storytelling abilities, Eileen Wilks lives up to her reputation with
Midnight Promises,
a marriage-of-convenience story unlike any other you’ve ever read. Virginia Kantra brings you the next of the irresistible MacNeills in
The Comeback of Con MacNeill,
and Kate Stevenson returns after a long time away, with
Witness…and Wife?
All six books live up to Intimate Moments’ reputation for excitement and passion mixed together in just the right proportions, so I hope you enjoy them all.
Yours,
Leslie J. Wainger
Executive Senior Editor
MARRYING MIKE… AGAIN
A
LICIA
S
COTT
To my grandfather,
Virgil Chadwick, for all the rides in the red pickup truck.
I miss you, Grandpa.
Books by Alicia Scott
Silhouette Intimate Moments
Walking After Midnight
#466
Shadow’s Flame
#546
Waking Nightmare
#586
*
At the Midnight Hour
#658
*
Hiding Jessica
#668
*
The Quiet One
#701
*
The One Worth Waiting For
#713
*
The One Who Almost Got Away
#723
†
Maggie’s Man
#776
†
MacNamara’s Woman
#813
†
Brandon’s Bride
#837
Marrying Mike… Again
#980
Silhouette Books
36 Hours
Partners In Crime
ALICIA SCOTT
recently escaped the corporate world to pursue her writing full-time. According to the former consultant, “I’ve always been a writer. It’s the perfect job, and you just can’t beat the dress code.” Born in Hawaii, she grew up in Oregon before moving to New England. Winner of
Romantic Times Magazine
’s award for Career Achievement in Series Romantic Suspense, she also writes
New York Times
bestselling mainstream suspense thrillers as Lisa Gardner.
Alicia is also proud to announce that she finally met the man of her dreams. She and her hubby have settled down in Rhode Island, where they are raising one cat and a bunny.
Alicia loves to hear from readers. You can reach her c/o Silhouette Books, 300 E. 42nd St., New York, NY 10017.
Contents
Prologue
Letter to the Editor
April 18
Editor’s Note: This letter arrived at the
Citizen’s Post
last week. After much deliberation we made the determination to print the letter in the interest of freedom of speech. We have printed it in its original form, all language stands as the author intended. Please note “The Man” is slang for law enforcement while O.G.B. is the acronym for Original Ghetto Blood. Also, according to our city beat editor, “picnics” is generally used to describe gang members congregating in a parking lot to, indeed, picnic. Unfortunately, such gatherings are often an invitation for drive-by shootings by rivals.
Responses to the letter can be sent to us. If you have any information on who might have sent the letter, please contact Sandra Aikens, Chief of Police, Alexandria County.
Members of the Man:
I had me a dad once. Not a real dad, but an alright one. Respected my mama. Bought me and my brother smokes. He went out one night. Cops caught him. Shot him in the back. I heard one say, Shhht, they gotta teach these boys how to run.
I had me a sister once. Pretty. Other boys, they be lookin’ at her, but my mama not dumb. She tell her to play it straight, keep her inside most nights. We don’t argue with my mama. She work hard. My sister be by the window. Sun nice and bright. She comb her hair for the boys grinning on the sidewalk. Banger open fire. My sister don’t got a cheek now. Just a big, brown hole. Look like a snail live in her face.
I had me a brother once. Big O.G.B. Man of respect. Push me around, make me tough. Make sure I know the score. My brother went to a picnic one day. He ain’t ever come back.
I had me a mother once. Now, she sit in a big, ripped up chair. Stuffin stuck in her hair. Hold pictures and cry for things that ain’t gonna exist no more. Beg me, plead me, tell me to be better when we both no I wont.
I gotta live on these streets. I gotta get through these halls and they be long and hard. Ain’t nothing she can do. Ain’t nothing I can do. You give us this world and y’all don’t care.
You took my father. You took my sister you took my brother. Y’all broke my mama’s heart.
Now you listen to me Man. I be tired of brother killin’ brother, homey takin’ homey. I’m gonna start my own war, and I got you in my sight. If a Man enters this neighborhood, I’ll take him down. Drive my streets, I’ll blow off your damn head. It be startin’ now. It be startin’ and its gonna be big.
I be a straight killer since I wuz ten. Now I be thirteen and I ain’t got no need to grow no older.
Call me Vee.
That’ll do.
Chapter 1
Monday, 6:45 a.m.
F
irst day on the job and Sandra Aikens had already violated Playing with the Big Boys rule number one—never let them see you sweat. In fact, on this bright and sunny morning the brand-new police chief was fighting not to violate the next rule—never let them see you cry. There was probably some fine print about never let them see you swear or break small objects, as well. She had a feeling that rule would be gone the moment she stepped into her office, where the twenty-four-hour-old brass nameplate had already been blacked out and overwritten with
Bitch.
She’d never thought her appointment to chief of police would be well received, particularly by a male-dominated police force under attack for corruption, racism and all-around bad behavior. The nameplate vandalism, however, she thought was crude and unnecessary. As if she didn’t know she was trespassing into their precious clubhouse world. As if they didn’t know that from day one, she was going to turn their boys-will-be-boys culture upside down. That was her job, and Sandra Aikens never backed down from a challenge—not even on a worse-than-average Monday.
Now her low-slung heels sounded like tiny machine guns rat-tat-tatting their way down the marble halls of a nearly deserted city hall. Her plum-colored pantsuit was sleek, smart and already in a state of disarray. She’d unbuttoned her blazer for air, loosened her brocade vest out of frustration, and was now hard at work dismantling the tight knot holding her wild, chestnut-colored hair.
To hell with appearance. Sandra figured she had exactly ten seconds before she reached the front doors of city hall and was ambushed by the press. At this point, she was simply trying to salvage peace of mind.
“You gotta stand tough, Sandra,” Mayor Charles Peterson had barked at 0600 this morning. “This city is in a state of crisis. Did you see that letter in the Sunday
Citizen’s Post?
Do you know what that means? We need an image of strength! Competence! People need to feel we have the department and the city under control.
You
need to appear in control.”
Sandra had smiled wryly. She’d understood what he was saying. As with many local governments, Mayor Peterson had been forced to recruit a civilian to be the new chief of police because the current department was too bogged down with allegations of fiscal mismanagement, corruption and police brutality to provide a credible leader.
In theory, Sandra’s background as a former security company vice president would enable her to provide better management and budgeting sense than the typical chief of police, who probably had more experience as a good cop than as a good boss. She also entered with a clean slate—with no allegiances to old buddies or political factions. She could look at her staff with the cold, frank gaze of impartiality. She could assess their actions honestly as she launched an intensive in-house investigation into numerous complaints.