Vickie Taylor - The Renegade Steals A Lady

“For now, all I want is for you to get in that bath.”

Liar. Marco knew what he wanted. Just once he wanted her to look at him like he was something other than a drug-stealing scumbag. He wanted her to look at him like she had the last time he’d been in her apartment, the night they’d made love.

“I won’t help you again,” Paige said. “Why don’t you just go away and leave me alone?”

“I can’t do that.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I’ll be going, all right, but I won’t be leaving you alone. I’m taking you with me.”

Dear Reader,

There’s so much great reading in store for you this month that it’s hard to know where to begin, but I’ll start with bestselling author and reader favorite Fiona Brand. She’s back with another of her irresistible Alpha heroes in Marrying McCabe. There’s something about those Aussie men that a reader just can’t resist—and heroine Roma Lombard is in the same boat when she meets Ben McCabe. He’s got trouble—and passion—written all over him.

Our FIRSTBORN SONS continuity continues with Born To Protect, by Virginia Kantra. Follow ex-Navy SEAL Jack Dalton to Montana, where his princess (and I mean that literally) awaits. A new book by Ingrid Weaver is always a treat, so save some reading time for Fugitive Hearts, a perfect mix of suspense and romance. Round out the month with new novels by Linda Castillo, who offers A Hero To Hold (and trust me, you’ll definitely want to hold this guy!); Barbara Ankrum, who proves the truth of her title, This Perfect Stranger; and Vickie Taylor, with The Renegade Steals a Lady (and also, I promise, your heart).

And if that weren’t enough excitement for one month, don’t forget to enter our Silhouette Makes You a Star contest. Details are in every book.

Enjoy!

Leslie J. Wainger

Executive Senior Editor

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to the loyal canines who serve our law-enforcement agencies and military everywhere.

has always loved books—the way they look, the way they feel and most especially the way the stories inside them bring whole new worlds to life. She views her recent transition from reading to writing books as a natural extension of this longtime love. Vickie lives in Aubrey, Texas, a small town dubbed “The Heart of Horse Country,” where, in addition to writing romance novels, she raises American quarter horses and volunteers her time to help homeless and abandoned animals. Vickie loves to hear from readers. Write to her at: P.O. Box 633, Aubrey, TX 76227.

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

Chapter 16

Paige Burkett arched in her lover’s arms. Beneath her palms, his shoulders shuddered like a locomotive, straining for that first forward inch under a heavy load. Paige’s head tipped back. Her mouth fell open in a silent gasp and she hung there, eyes closed, suspended in the moment like a fly in amber.

The curtains above the bedside window parted, exhaling a breeze as hot and humid as a human breath. Overhead, the lazy spin of the ceiling fan circulated the smells of summer—the tangy brine of the Texas Gulf Coast, sweet rosemary from the pots lining the porch below, and sweat. Warm, moist flesh entwined with warm, moist flesh.

“Open your eyes,” the man above her commanded, and she complied, helpless to deny him.

Moonlight flowed like mercury over his glistening olive skin. Black hair, half an inch overdue for a trim, curled damply on the back of his neck. A twelve-hour shadow framed the sensuous curve of his mouth.

But it was his eyes that drew her attention, as they had since she’d first caught him watching her almost a month ago. The eyes of an angel, she’d thought then. Not the innocent orbs of some winged cherub, but the deep soulful wells of a mortal creature, torn between the heavenly aspirations of the divine and the sins of the damned. Dark, beckoning, full from their first glance of the inevitability of this moment, his eyes had called to her. Drawn her in even when better judgment warned her away.

Three years. For three years she’d denied herself this closeness. Told herself she didn’t need a man. Didn’t want one. Then one look from him, and she’d wanted nothing else.

Damn Marco Angelosi and his angel’s eyes.

He must have sensed the change in her mood. “Paige?”

She turned her head aside, away from his eyes. “It’s all right.”

“No.” Clasping her chin between his thumb and fore-finger, he nudged her face toward him. His black eyes probed deep inside her, to the root of her secrets. “It’s not.”

A subtle shift by him broke the fledgling bond their bodies had formed. His absence left her bereft, a hollow outline of the woman she had been. Anger flourished in the empty space.

It had to be all right. Marco might have started this thing between them, watching her all the time with those haunted eyes, but she was the one who had invited him inside tonight. Invited him to her bed.

She needed this. Needed him. Needed to feel like a woman again, if only for one night.

Paige surged up. A soft chop cut the arm he’d been leaning on from beneath him, and she flipped him easily to his back. Straddling his chest, she pinned his wrists above his head. “Then you’re just going to have to make it all right, Angelosi. Because I’m not letting you go until you finish what you started.”

He took stock of her for another long moment. Apparently he was satisfied with what he saw. A smile ghosted around the corners of his mouth, then disappeared, gone before it ever really materialized. With a flick of his wrists, he reversed her grip so that it was he who held her captive.

Her breath caught as he pulled her close. The hair on his chest fired erotic shocks where it grazed her aching nipples. His lips hovered over hers, close but not touching. Gently he wound her arms around his waist.

“Then hold on tight, Burkett, because I plan to make it a lot better than all right.”

The promise tingled like a shower of tiny meteors on her skin. She reached for his face, but he was gone, working his way down her throat, touching, licking and kissing as he lowered himself. He paused to settle his mouth on her left breast, pulling the breath from her chest as his cheeks hollowed, suckled.

Cool air teased the slippery trail he left behind when his lips wandered along her ribs. He wriggled his hips between her splayed knees, sliding down the bed on his back. Pausing again, his tongue delved into her navel, then dipped lower.

Sharp sparks of pleasure darted from her core. She swayed, falling forward until only a white-knuckled grip on the headboard kept her upright. Electricity arced around her, through her. Her skin grew unbearably tight. Unbearably hot. Her blood thickened until the cells pulsed through her veins in great, throbbing knots.

“Now, Marco,” she groaned. “Oh, now.” Releasing the headboard, she clutched at his hair.