Darlene Scalera - Straight Silver

A strong hand clasped my shoulder and spun me face-to-face with my favorite local law enforcer. Serras’s dark gaze came down hard on the bruised line of flesh across my throat. He shook me a little as he muttered a curse.

Before I could answer, that mouth came down on mine. The kiss was as hard as the man, without a touch of tenderness that would have had me pushing him away and sorely disappointed.

We indulged ourselves for thirty seconds, maybe a minute, his hands fisting into the length of my hair and my body meeting his, sensation for sensation. When it was over, I released him as suddenly as he’d grabbed me. I took a ragged, dissatisfied breath, knowing I would yearn for more for a long time….

Dear Harlequin Intrigue Reader,

You won’t be able to resist a single one of our May books. We have a lineup so shiver inducing that you may forget summer’s almost here!

Executive Bodyguard is the second book in Debra Webb’s exciting new trilogy, THE ENFORCERS. For the thrilling conclusion, be sure you pick up Man of Her Dreams in June.

Amanda Stevens concludes her MATCHMAKERS UNDERGROUND series with Matters of Seduction. And the Montana McCalls are back, in B.J. Daniels’s Ambushed!

We also have two special premiers for you. Kathleen Long debuts in Harlequin Intrigue with Silent Warning, a chilling thriller. And LIPSTICK LTD., our special promotion featuring sexy, sassy sleuths, kicks off with Darlene Scalera’s Straight Silver.

A few of your favorite Harlequin Intrigue authors have some special books you’ll love. Rita Herron’s A Breath Away is available this month from HQN Books. And, in June, Joanna Wayne’s The Gentlemen’s Club is being published by Signature Spotlight.

Harlequin Intrigue brings you the best in breathtaking romantic suspense with six fabulous books to enjoy. Please write to us—we love to hear from our readers.

Sincerely,

Denise O’Sullivan

Senior Editor

Harlequin Intrigue

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Thanks to all, much too numerous to name,

that have taken me here to this tenth book.

With gratitude.

A native New Yorker, Darlene graduated magna cum laude from Syracuse University with a degree in public communications. She worked in a variety of fields, including telecommunications and public relations, before devoting herself full-time to fiction writing.

A charter member of the Saratoga Chapter of Romance Writers of America, she served on its board for five years. She is also a member of the Capital Region Chapter of Romance Writers of America. She has presented writing workshops at national and regional writers’ conferences as well as at local universities and colleges.

She lives happily ever after in upstate New York with her husband, Jim, and their two teenage children, J.J. and Ariana. Visit her at www.darlenescalera.com.

HARLEQUIN INTRIGUE

739—UNMARKED MAN

848—STRAIGHT SILVER

Silver LeGrande—Born with a stripper’s name and a brick-house bod to fulfill her certain destiny, she’s left the daily bump and grind to go community college coed. But when someone strangles her former colleague, and no one seems to care, Silver turns from the classroom to the only cop she knows who will give a damn.

Detective Alexi Serras—The last thing he needed was a partner. Especially a five-foot-eleven ex-stripper with a yard of crayon-red hair and attitude to match her assets.

Billie West—Owner of Memphis’s most infamous nightclub, Billie ran a clean joint, keeping the customers and the cops happy. Silver had been her top draw, and Billie had suspected it was only a matter of time before she came back to the club. But neither had imagined the reason would be murder.

Della Devine—By the time she was murdered, she was working the poles in a sleazy operation on the lower side.

Paul Chumsky—Resident pro at a country club for Memphis moneybags, Chumsky had a charm that kept him in the good graces of the club’s male members and in the firm beds of their wives. But the evening before she died he’d spent with Della Devine.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

I should have known better. No one gets away scot-free. Certainly not ex-exotic dancers. Not even ones with fifteen and a half community college credits and a legitimate chauffeur’s license. Auntie always said it had taken four generations of LeGrande women to produce another as tough as my Great-Great-Grandma Bettina “Brass Buttons” Mae. Four generations plus a thick-lipped midway worker from Quebec blind in the right eye, my momma’s weak knees for a foreign accent her legendary downfall. But as the officer pulled back the sheet on Della Devine, I feared not even the blood of four generations of LeGrande women and a one-eyed Canadian carny would save me this time.

Not that I hadn’t seen death. Before my breasts fully developed and my age advanced to legal level, I’d cashiered part-time at the Piggly Wiggly, and I was working on the morning Florence Sutton went in to use the public toilet and never came out. After a period of some patience, her acquaintance, Loris Martin, who the meaner folks in town liked to speculate was Flo’s unnatural lover, alerted the day manager. Fire trucks, police cruiser, ambulance came lights whirling, sirens wailing into the lot. The door was broken down, and there was Flo, dead as the Christmas hog come smoking season. Wilson Bintliff, Tipton County’s most eligible undertaker heard the call over his scanner and arrived in a less flashy but equally timely manner only to stand around with everyone else, tapping his polished Florsheims to the tune of “She’ll Be Coming around the Mountain.” Not much else could be done until the body was pronounced, but seeing it was now lunch hour, which Doc Flaherty and his fleshy nurse, Suzie Toomis, always spent with the answering machine on and their pants off, it was going to be a wait.

The rest room was yellow-taped off but if you snuck in behind the bakery counter and cranked your neck, you could get an eyeful of poor Flo. The more irreverent of us took a peek. Even in death Flo had a way of looking at you as if she’d smelled the silent fart you’d let at last Sunday’s service. Stood to reason the same people who whispered about Flo’s sexual partialities would add this comeuppance was well deserved, but I’d imagined a person had to do a lot more than flare her nostrils extrawide to deserve to pass away with her pantyhose around her knees in the public rest room of the Piggly Wiggly.

I looked down. Della stared straight up at me but saw nothing. Oh girl, what’d you do to deserve this?