Lone Star Secrets. Cat Schield
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About the Publisher
Will Sanders blasted through the glass doors of the sheriff’s office and squinted as he emerged into the bright sunlight. The September heat rising off the pavement was nothing compared to the anger boiling inside him. Still no word on Richard Lowell’s whereabouts and, with the manhunt showing no signs of ending any time soon, Will was fed up with the lack of progress.
The son of the bitch had tried to kill him. Then, while impersonating Will, Rich had taken advantage of four women—that they knew of—robbing them of their money, dignity and leaving two of them pregnant. Lowell had murdered Will’s great friend and trusted confidant, Jason Phillips, stolen millions and continued to roam free. How many more lives was he going to ruin before getting his just deserts?
Hands shaking with rage, Will ripped the keys from his pocket and hit the button that unlocked his white Land Rover. For a second the color red glazed the landscape around him. Will lost his balance as his left foot caught on an uneven bit of pavement and the stumble cleared his head somewhat. He paused with his hand on the SUV’s hood and sucked in a deep breath. Losing control wasn’t going to help. As reason began to reassert itself, he released the air from his lungs, letting it hiss between his teeth. Another calming inhalation and his vision began to return.
Since waking up in Mexico with a blinding headache and scattered memories of what had occurred, his emotions had become volatile. Some days when he looked in the mirror, he didn’t recognize himself. Before leaving on that fateful trip with Rich, he’d had everything a man could ask for. And it had taken that huge wakeup call to realize he’d taken his friends, family and good fortune for granted.
That period was over, he reminded himself again and again, hoping the litany would keep his demons at bay.
He needed to stay calm because logic and clear thinking would win the day. He couldn’t afford to allow his runaway emotions to lead him to act in ways that would be counterproductive.
Sliding behind the wheel, he pulled out his phone and queued up his favorite contacts. His heart gave a little bump as Megan’s name appeared at the top of his list. Speaking of letting his emotions drive his actions...
Things between them had grown strained since they’d shared that explosive night of passion in the aftermath of Jason’s memorial service. They continued to talk a couple times a week, but their conversations veered from anything personal, revolving around the lack of progress in finding Lowell or how Jason’s daughter, Savannah, was doing now that she’d lost her father. Megan loved her seven-year-old niece dearly and tried to spend as much time as possible with the little girl. Will knew it broke her heart whenever Savannah asked for her daddy.
For about a week now Will had been waiting for Megan to open the door to them finally hashing out what had happened between them, but she was staunchly avoiding the topic. It was as if she wanted to forget it had ever happened. Will hoped that wasn’t the case. It sure wasn’t for him.
Maybe if he’d treated the encounter differently. Megan deserved to be wooed with expensive dinners and slow seduction. Instead, he’d come at her like a freight train, overwhelmed by the raw, primal need to comfort her as she grieved for her brother. They’d come together in a rush of heat and shared pain before establishing any sort of framework they could build a relationship on.
That was on him. Will hadn’t been thinking clearly or logically as she’d torn at his clothes and he’d slid his fingers up her thigh. Instead, he’d succumbed to his body’s call. The sensuality of her lithe body as he drove her wild with his mouth or the sounds she made as she came. She’d been glorious in that moment, and reliving it made him want more. Made him want to take her every way his overactive imagination could conceive. Hard up against a wall, gently in the deep tub in his master suite. In the backseat of his car like a couple randy teenagers.
Blood pooled in his loins as the list grew and he slammed his fist against the steering wheel to distract himself from the beginnings of an erection pressing against his zipper. It didn’t work. Hands shaking with need he closed his eyes and surrendered to the heat burning through him like a wildfire.
Yet even as his body was battered by desire, Will recognized the need to be cautious as he ventured forward. Just because lust had brought them together in spectacular fashion didn’t mean they could make a lasting relationship work.
Their situation was beyond complicated. Two strangers who’d been requested by law officials to maintain the legal aspect of their marriage for as long as Rich remained at large. They didn’t live together and, except for occasional phone conversations and encounters among family and friends, hadn’t spent all that much time together.
Yet each time he saw her, Will grappled with a growing ache to be with her, to have her intimately tangled in his life. A shift in his perception had taken place. He no longer viewed her as merely Jason’s beautiful younger sister, but had started to think in terms of my wife.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t really his. Not in the way he was coming to want her to be.
She’d married an imposter, and Will continuously wondered if the sight of his face, so similar to the man who’d stolen his identity, was one she despised. She refused to discuss Rich. No doubt she felt the same humiliation and fury at being tricked that weighed on Will. Would she forever glimpse his face and be reminded of all the terrible things that had happened?
The truth was, he had a ton of things he wanted to discover about Megan. Putting aside his urgency to glide his hands over her naked flesh, feast on her mouth and plumb her richest fantasies, he wanted to learn about her dreams and aspirations, to explore her goals for her company and figure out why he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
So what tied his hands when it came to puzzling out these and many other questions? Why except for that frantic, passionate encounter following Jason’s memorial service, hadn’t he acted on his irresistible attraction to Megan? In part because the fierce physical pull between them threw his emotions into a tailspin. When he’d first returned home, he’d intended to bide his time until Rich was caught and then secured a divorce or annulment and never looked back. But long before the night of stormy passion, when he’d held her in his arms and tasted her hunger, he begun dreading the time when he’d have to let Megan go. She’d slipped beneath his skin and ignited his lust in a way no woman had ever done before. At the same time, he wasn’t sure how to hold on to her or even if he should.
Whatever else Will wanted, foremost was for Megan to be happy. Already he’d been too late to save her from a sham marriage,