A Kept Woman. Sheri WhiteFeather
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“Make Me Stop,” He Said. “Tell Me This Is Wrong.”
Natalie froze. “I can’t.” She wanted to caress his face, to follow the angles and hard lines, to shape them with her hands. But she couldn’t seem to summon the courage.
“Say it,” he beckoned.
Silent, she remained where she was, her body flooded with warmth. She needed him, and she couldn’t bear to let go, to lose the connection. He closed his eyes. With a quaking hand, she pressed her palm to his chest and felt the erratic beats.
When he opened his eyes, she took her hand away. A minute passed. Or mabe it was a second. For Natalie, time stood still.
“I can’t,” she said again. “I can’t tell you it’s wrong.”
“Then I’m taking you.” Zack’s voice turned rough. “I’m taking all of you.”
Dear Reader,
Welcome back to another passionate month at Silhouette Desire. A Scandal Between the Sheets is breaking out as Brenda Jackson pens the next tale in the scintillating DYNASTIES: THE DANFORTHS series. We all love the melodrama and mayhem that surrounds this Southern family—how about you?
The superb Beverly Barton stops by Silhouette Desire with an extra wonderful title in her bestselling series THE PROTECTORS. Keeping Baby Secret will keep you on the edge of your seat—and curl your toes all at the same time. What would you do if you had to change your name and your entire history? Sheri WhiteFeather tackles that compelling question when her heroine is forced to enter the witness protection program in A Kept Woman. Seems she was a kept woman of another sort, as well…so be sure to pick up this fabulous read if you want the juicy details.
Kristi Gold has written the final, fabulous installment of THE TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB: THE STOLEN BABY series with Fit for a Sheikh. (But don’t worry, we promise those sexy cattlemen with be back.) And rounding out the month are two wonderful stories filled with an extra dose of passion: Linda Conrad’s dramatic Slow Dancing With A Texan and Emilie Rose’s suppercharged A Passionate Proposal.
Enjoy all we have to offer this month—and every month—at Silhouette Desire.
Melissa Jeglinski
Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire
A Kept Woman
Sheri Whitefeather
SHERI WHITEFEATHER
lives in Southern California and enjoys ethnic dining, attending powwows and visiting art galleries and vintage clothing stores near the beach. Since her one true passion is writing, she is thrilled to be a part of the Silhouette Desire line. When she isn’t writing, she often reads until the wee hours of the morning.
Sheri’s husband, a member of the Muscogee Creek Nation, inspires many of her stories. They have a son, a daughter and a trio of cats—domestic and wild. She loves to hear from her readers. You may write to her at: P.O. Box 17146, Anaheim, California 92817. Visit her Web site at www.SheriWhiteFeather.com.
To my readers:
Many of you have commented that you enjoy stories that push the envelope, and A Kept Woman is no exception. I was particularly fascinated by the early days of WITSEC (the witness protection program) and decided to combine some of the early security methods with the modern program. A Kept Woman is my interpretation of a security field inspector toppling into a forbidden, heart-bound affair with a witness. This story blends fact, fiction and creative liberties and does not necessarily represent the inner workings of this highly effective and controversial program.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
One
Natalie Pascal was nervous. Deputy U.S. Marshal Zack Ryder sensed it from the moment he saw her. As a WITSEC field inspector, he’d encountered plenty of edgy witnesses, and this stunning blonde was no exception. Scanning the passengers filtering into the baggage claim area, he moved forward to make his presence known, to greet the woman he’d been assigned to relocate.
“Natalie.” He said her name and she looked up and caught his gaze. For a moment, they just stood in the midst of a bustling airport, staring at each other. Like strangers, he thought, whose lives were about to collide.
“So you’re him,” she said.
He nodded. “Yep. I’m him. Zack Ryder.” Her field inspector, the deputy marshal who would help Nancy Perris adjust to her new identity, to becoming Natalie Pascal.
She didn’t extend her hand and he didn’t offer his. He figured she wasn’t keen on shaking hands with a lawman, on being too friendly. He’d seen old photographs of her; he knew her history. Prior to her acceptance into the Witness Security Program, she’d been a hot-as-sin, buxom brunette, as well as the girlfriend of a Los Angeles mobster.
These days, she was a reed-thin blonde, with stylishly cropped hair and tinted contacts. The golden-brown color made her eyes seem cougarlike, but he supposed the smoky black liner enhanced the effect, too. Tall and chic, she wore an elegant pantsuit, tailored to fit her slim form.
Zack motioned to the luggage turntable. “Let me know when you see your bags.”
She shifted her purse, adjusting the strap on her shoulder. “There’s only one.”
He didn’t comment. He already knew she was traveling light. WITSEC would deliver the rest of her belongings, what little there was. Natalie had liquidated just about everything she owned, everything her mobster boyfriend had given her. “So,” he said, reverting to small talk. “How was your flight?”
She glanced away, making him aware of her discomfort. Arriving in an unfamiliar city to meet an unfamiliar man couldn’t be easy. But it beat the hell out of the alternative, he thought. Natalie had agreed to testify against her former lover. And if the mob found her, they would kill her. Her old boyfriend wasn’t an underling. He was David Halloway, the new boss of the West Coast Family.
Finally, she shifted her gaze back to his, and when she did, they stared at each other again. “My flight was fine. Just fine,” she added in a cracked whisper, in a voice so low he could barely hear it.
Because he got the crazy notion to touch her, he broke eye contact. Was she for real? Or was she playing head games? He’d expected her to be a revamped gun moll, but he hadn’t predicted the delicate edge of vulnerability.
Zack remained silent. He was pretty good at idle chitchat. But at the moment, communicating with this woman eluded him.
“That one is mine,” she said suddenly.
“What?”
She motioned to a suitcase on the turntable. “The one with the gold ribbon.”
“Got it.” A bit terse, he reached for the bag. Over the years, he’d learned not to trust too deeply, not to allow the criminals-turned-witnesses to con him, not to BS their way into his good graces. He wasn’t about to get compromised, especially