Deadly Little Secrets (35 page)

Sizzling seduction and hair-raising suspense combine in Jeanne Adams's gripping new novel about a woman whose past returns—with a vengeance…

 

Nowhere to Hide

Dana Markham is up against a cold-blooded killer who knows her all too well: Donovan Walker. Wanted for drug trafficking, armed and dangerous—he's also her ex-husband. What she knows about him could land him behind bars forever…or put her and her young son in an early grave if Donovan finds them first. Dana's one chance lies with a man she barely knows at all. Tall and darkly sensual, Caine Bradley is an undercover FBI agent who's been posing as Walker's henchman. Compelled to work with Caine to lure her ex out of hiding, Dana must fight against her own raw, urgent needs. But is he who he says he is? Her passionate desire for him could be her salvation—or her greatest mistake…

The windchimes began to peal, a musical jangle. Dana had just set her book aside and turned out the bedside lights. Listening, she felt a twitch of intuition. For her, the tingle of unease was as good as a certified letter when it came to danger.

There had been no breeze, not even the barest hint of wind when she'd let their dog, Shadow, out for the last time at eleven. The cool spring air, redolent with the scent of new growth, had been still.

Getting out of bed, she flicked the television on for light. Tossing the remote on the bed, she walked to the inner hallway; continuing to listen, preparing to act.

The clanging of the chimes picked up speed.
Fools,
she thought, even as her heart raced, realizing what hovered outside her house.

Shadow began to growl. Everything seemed to slow down, separate into moments. They had come for her, for her son. She'd been dreading this and yet expecting it.

It had only been four hours since she'd sat with Xavier, reading from one of the
Harry Potter
books at bedtime. Now, she would have to wake him, to run.

They'd had to scurry away in the night before, or leave with bare minutes of leeway, but then they'd had help. The FBI or WitSec—the witness security program—had been there.

Donovan had found them again, and this time she was on her own.

As scared as she was, the clangor of the bells almost made her laugh. Almost. For all her ex-husband's cunning, for all the expensive black-market military hardware he bought with his drug money, he didn't have anyone smart enough to think about those windchimes.

Thank God.

Warned by the wind. If that's not cosmic justice, I don't know what is.
How soon he forgot. He'd trained her well to take near-paranoid precautions. That hard-won expertise worked against him now, and ensured she knew trouble had arrived.

Being forewarned only helped her if she took action, she reminded herself, thinking furiously. There was no time to get to the van, and even if they did, the helicopter would be armed. They would be sitting ducks on the country roads. There was no time to go to the safe room in the basement, either.

Donovan's men would be on the ground by now.

She did have time to activate her other protective measures, pitiful though they were. Still growling, Shadow—one of her more traditional defenses—obviously sensed the peril, and stood ready for her commands.

In Jeanne Adams's pulse-pounding thriller, a woman who's lost everything must turn to the man she considers her worst enemy. But he isn't the one who wants her dead…

 

No Escape

Cursed. Bad things happen to men who get close to Victoria Hagan. Now one of them has paid the ultimate price. Her ex-fiance, Todd, has been found murdered in the very church where he left her at the altar—and Torie is the prime suspect. Her only hope is the last person she wants to see…

 

Ever since he advised his best friend not to marry her and the bride-to-be walked in on the conversation, Paul Jameson has stayed far away from Torie—and resisted their dangerously hot mutual attraction. Still, Paul promised Todd he would take care of Torie. She certainly needs him now…almost as much as he wants her. And that's exactly what a killer is counting on…

“What do you mean we can't get married?” Torie's words were a panicked screech. “Todd, there are five hundred guests in the church. The music's started. They've seated our mothers, for God's sake.” She gestured and rose petals flew from her bouquet, drifting to the floor like snow.

Panic filled her. Half of Philadelphia was waiting for her to walk down the aisle. Her sorority sisters were there. His fraternity brothers, mostly sober, were there. Even the lawyers from his new firm and her boss from the engineering firm were there to see her marry Todd.

“I know, I know. But, I can't do it Torie, I can't. Not now.”

“What changed, Todd, between Monday, when I left the conference in Raleigh and today?” Torie's heart stuttered. “Oh, my God. You slept with someone. You had a fling.”

“No, no, no,” Todd protested, his face stricken, grabbing her waving hands, bouquet and all. “I didn't, I swear. What happened is—”

“Tell me,” she insisted. “I have a right to know.”

“I won the jackpot,” he blurted. “Three hundred and sixty-eight million dollars. I never expected, I mean, you know, I always buy a ticket on special days.”

He did. She knew that. They'd always talked about what they'd do if they won.

Her mind whirled. Oh good Lord, he'd won.

“You won?” she managed faintly. “All that money?”

They would never have to scrimp. Her mother's complaints about Todd's spendthrift habits and frat-boy ways would be nothing against that kind of income. They could—

Torie went very still as his words sank in. He was choosing the money over her, over the life they'd planned.

Devastation came first. Then hot anger boiled in her veins. He didn't want to share a new, financially prosperous life with her.

She wasn't good enough.

Oblivious to her reaction, he just shook his head. “I know, it's crazy. But you understand, right? This changes everything in my life.”

“You son of a bitch,” Torie snarled as she balled up her fist.

The door from the bride's room to the church opened, but Torie barely heard it, and didn't look around. The bouquet disintegrated and the best man gasped as Torie decked her groom.