Sheri WhiteFeather - Imminent Affair

“Are you scared?” he asked.

“Yes.” But not just of the stalker. She was afraid of the constant hunger, too.

“I’ll keep you safe, Allie. I swear I will.”

“I know. I trust you.”

“If you have trouble sleeping tonight, you can come to my room.”

The glass almost slipped from her hand. “You’re inviting me to sleep with you?”

“Not with me. Beside me. We won’t do anything.”

“We won’t?” This was the strangest conversation she’d ever had.

“No. I mean, we can control our urges.” He searched her expression. “Right?”

Did he need to prove that they could keep their relationship at a no-sex level, even if they shared the same bed? Was that why he’d made the offer? Or was he truly worried about her being alone, steeped in stalker nightmares? She suspected it was a combination of both.

Dear Reader,

This story has been a long time coming. Allie Whirlwind and Daniel Deer Runner appeared in Never Look Back, my 2006 Silhouette Bombshell. Since then, I’ve received numerous e-mails about them. Readers kept asking if their romance was going to continue. You see, at the end of Never Look Back, Allie had just sent her former lover to the Apache Underworld, and Daniel, the WARRIOR SOCIETY member who saved her life, was awakening from a coma.

So here it is….

Imminent Affair.

For those of you who remember Allie and Daniel, this book is for you. For those of you who haven’t met them yet, this book is also for you. Within the pages of Imminent Affair, Allie and Daniel enter a new phase of their lives. Dangerous, yes, but loving, too. Which is, after all, the wonder and beauty of romantic suspense.

Love,

Sheri WhiteFeather

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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pens a variety of romances for Silhouette Books. She has earned several prestigious readers’ and reviewers’ choice awards and become known for incorporating Native American elements into her stories.

Sheri’s hobbies include decorating with antiques and shopping in thrift stores for vintage clothes. Currently, she lives in a cowboy community in Central Valley, California.

She loves to hear from her readers. To contact Sheri, visit her Web site at www.SheriWhiteFeather.com.

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

Allie Whirlwind couldn’t breathe. The air in her lungs wouldn’t expel. She felt as if someone were sitting on her chest, forcing her to relive a nightmare.

Only this nightmare didn’t involve her serial killer mother or her psychic sister or the ghost of her father. It didn’t involve Raven, either. Her former shape-shifter lover had moved on to the underworld, to an Apache place that rivaled heaven.

And now Allie was in hell.

While she’d been at work, someone had come into her loft and trashed her bedroom. Just moments ago, she’d opened the door and encountered the gruesome sight.

Her sheets had been slashed. The canopy above her bed had been knifed. On the wall nearest the window, red paint dripped like blood, with a message in the center that said This is for Daniel.

Still struggling to breathe, she stared at the elegantly scripted letters. The vandal had used a lovely form of calligraphy. Daniel’s name was especially pretty.

This is for Daniel.

What was? The mock blood? The knifed anger? The whole chilling scene?

Was Daniel in danger? Panicked, she reached for the phone and dialed his cell.

He answered on the second ring, apparently recognizing her number from caller ID. “Hey, Allie.”

The air in her lungs finally whooshed out. He was the man she loved, but she didn’t have the courage to tell him. As far as he knew, she simply regarded him as a friend. But that was all he considered her, too. He didn’t remember that deeper feelings had developed between them. Daniel Deer Runner had retrograde amnesia.

“Allie?” he addressed her again, filling the silence.

“I’m so glad you’re all right,” she said.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m on a break at work.” He paused for a second. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

She bit back a rush of tears. “Someone slashed up my bedroom and used red paint that looks like blood. They left a message that said they did it for you.”

His voice went anxiety-ridden gruff. “Someone? Someone who?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you call the police?”

“Yes.” She’d done that right away.

“Good. Stay put, and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Oh, thank God, she thought. He was coming over. They hung up, and she waited in the living room, with Christmas decorations twinkling in every corner. This was Allie’s favorite time of year.

Clinging to her holiday spirit, she lit some cookie-scented candles, hoping that Daniel would get there before the LAPD.

No such luck.

The police arrived in record time. Most local cops knew her, or at least knew of her. She was even friends with some of the Special Sections homicide detectives. But these detectives were unfamiliar, and that did little to steady her nerves. Being the daughter of a serial killer made Allie and her sister uncomfortably famous. Not only was their mother a murderer, she was a black magic witch, and in their culture, witchcraft was evil. The question, “Are you a good witch or a bad witch?” didn’t apply. But at least Mom was in prison now, paying her debt to society on death row.

A detective named Bell interviewed Allie. He was tall and blond and purposely expressionless. They went into her bedroom and stood amid the mess.

“Who’s Daniel?” he asked, scribbling on a notepad and glancing up at the message on the wall. His partner did other investigative-type things, like interviewing neighbors, taking photographs of the vandalism, checking for signs of forced entry and dusting for prints.

“He’s a friend,” she responded, wishing that Daniel didn’t make her ache. Allie had always dreamed of falling in love, but not with a man whose lack of memory robbed her of a future with him. “He’s on his way. He should be here soon.”

Bell merely nodded. “Does anyone else live here?”

“Not anymore. My sister used to, but she just got married. She’s in Europe on her honeymoon. Her husband is a special agent. You know. FBI.”

No visible reaction, aside from another nod.

Allie fidgeted with the silver beads around her neck. She favored Native jewelry and wore it often. She was a full-blood from the Oglala Lakota Sioux and Chiricahua Apache Nations.

“He saved my life,” she heard herself say. Her mind was moving in what seemed like a zillion different directions. She hadn’t meant to offer unsolicited information.