Gwynne Forster - Drive Me Wild

Justin grabbed Gina’s hand as sheets of rain drenched them. He pulled her to an abandoned storefront, wrapped her in his arms and turned his back to shield her from the pelting rain.

He held her closer, and she let him, pulling down his fences, laying wide his vulnerability. The rain pummeled his back, and he tucked her head beneath his chin, stroking her hair and her back as he did so. “Look, I…Something’s happening here, and I—”

She snuggled closer to him, and her arms went up to his shoulders.

“Gina, do you know what you’re doing to me?”

Her lips glistened, and her breathing shortened as she stared into his eyes with the hottest expression of female want that he’d ever witnessed. He would regret it, but he was human, and he wanted her worse than he wanted air to breathe….

is a national bestselling author of twenty-three romance novels and novellas. She has also written four novels and a novella of general fiction. She has worked as a journalist, a university professor and as a senior officer for the United Nations. She holds bachelor’s and master’s degrees in sociology, and a master’s degree in economics/ demography.

Gwynne sings in her church choir, loves to entertain at dinner parties, is a gourmet cook and an avid gardener. She enjoys jazz, opera, classical music and the blues. She also likes to visit museums and art galleries. She lives in New York with her husband.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Dear Reader,

Your continued support has made my novels for Kimani Romance outstanding successes. In the change from BET Books to Harlequin’s Kimani Press, I had wondered if you would find my titles. I, along with my fellow Kimani writers, am rejoicing that you have embraced this new line.

I hope you have enjoyed Gina and Justin’s story. After reading several newspaper reports of individuals whose lives were adversely affected by the acquisition of sudden great wealth (including one who inherited $342 million and who, two years later, was heavily in debt and without family and friends), I decided to explore the experience in this novel to demonstrate that the wise and responsible use of suddenly acquired wealth can bring happiness. I hope you’ve had a chance to read Just the Man She Needs, my latest Kimani Arabesque novel, released in June 2007. John Austin Underwood would light any woman’s fire.

Warmest regards,

Gwynne Forster

To Carole A. Kennedy, who never passes up an

opportunity to show me true friendship. To my stepson,

Peter, who is my solid rock and comfort and never-failing

support; and my thanks to Almighty God for my talent

and the opportunities to use it.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Gina Harkness watched the preacher sprinkle what looked to her like gravel over the coffin of her dear friend Heddy Lloyd. “A wonderful, loving and God-fearing woman,” he said. Common words from a minister, but they fit Heddy. At least the first two words did. Gina had no idea how God-fearing Heddy had been, but the old woman had certainly been kind and loving to Gina. The preacher said, “Amen,” and Gina rose slowly, softly said goodbye to her friend and walked slowly toward the door of the funeral home. It didn’t seem proper to stride away as she longed to do. She’d found the solemn, almost dreary, atmosphere inside the parlor depressing. Certainly, Heddy would have detested it.

Halfway to the door, an older man—the only other human present when the preacher said the last words over Heddy’s remains—joined her and walked with her to the door. “How do you happen to know Heddy?” he asked her. She didn’t question his right to ask her, for she knew he found it odd that a young black woman should be the old white woman’s only other mourner.

“I met her in the reading room of the public library about six years ago. I discovered that the library was her second home. I saw her whenever I went there. She told me she was a widow and that she had no children. She wanted to be friends, and I liked her, so we saw a lot of each other.”

“She had no close friends, mainly because she wanted her friends to be like her, generous, tolerant and liberal. My name is Miles Strags. I was her lawyer.”

“Gina Harkness. Glad to meet you, Mr. Strags. For years, I went to the movies, dinner, the theater and concerts with Heddy, saw her two or three times a week, called her just about every day, and visited her daily during her final days in the hospital, but I didn’t know she had a lawyer. She didn’t talk much about herself except to say jokingly that she’d outlived everybody close to her, that she didn’t reminisce and couldn’t stand complainers. I loved her deeply.”

“I expect a lot of people would have cared deeply for Heddy if she would have let them get to know her,” he said.

“I’m glad you came,” Gina said as they walked outside. “I was feeling very much alone in there until I saw you.”

“I’m executor of Heddy’s estate, Miss Harkness.” He handed Gina his card. “Would you please come to my office tomorrow morning for the reading of the will?”

“The…the will? She had a will? Uh, okay…Goodbye, Mr. Strags.”

“See you tomorrow,” he said, and she didn’t miss his bemused expression as he walked away.

Estate? What was Heddy doing with an estate, and why would she have a will? The woman had dressed as if she bought all of her clothes from a thrift-store bargain bin.

Gina took a deep breath and headed back to work. It perplexed her that Heddy could have left a will and she began to doubt the veracity of Miles Strags’s words. Perhaps he attended funerals in order to trap lone women. As soon as she sat down at her desk at the prestigious Hilliard and Noyes accounting firm, she opened her computer and located his Web site where she found enough information about him to convince her that the man was indeed an attorney.

The following morning at exactly nine-thirty, as agreed, a very curious Gina walked into Miles Strags’s office and sat down.

“I see you’re punctual,” he said. “Good. This won’t take long.”

Gina looked around for other beneficiaries, and saw none. “Isn’t anybody else coming?” she asked him.

“We’re all here,” he told her in an officious manner that her boss sometimes adopted and which she hated. He read:

“To Gina Harkness, my best and only friend, I leave all my worldly goods, including the building in which I lived, stocks, bonds, bank accounts, the furnishings of my apartment, jewelry and whatever I own that I’ve forgotten to mention here.”

When Gina gasped, he said, “There’s more.” He read on: