The Dangerous Jacob Wilde

“And you’re right, Ms. McDowell. We had sex. Nothing to write home about, either.”

Addison forced a little smile. “At least we agree on something.”

It was the worst kind of lie and it left the taste of ashes in her mouth, but the look he shot her told her it was a small victory.

God knew, she needed it.

Head up, shoulders back, she marched away from him toward her car, still shoeless. No way was she going to give him the pleasure of watching her search for that miserable missing shoe.

She waited for the sound of the truck starting up.

Nothing happened.

Her spine tingled. She could feel his eyes on her. She wanted to run but she wouldn’t do it.

This was her property.

He was still watching as she got behind the wheel, started the engine and turned on her lights. It wasn’t far to the house, only a couple of hundred yards.

Would he follow?

Would he expect to have sex with her again?

Her heart began to race as she imagined what would happen if he came after her. If he took her not against a truck but in a bed.

Naked, skin to skin. That hard, powerful body under her hands.

He was like no one she’d ever known before. Beautiful. Proud. Complex.

And wild.

God, so wild …

She reached the house, stumbled from the truck and went to the porch.

She was alone.

His truck, engine idling, stood unmoving.

He wasn’t coming after her.

Still, she didn’t take an easy breath until she was inside the house with the door closed and locked. She leaned back against it, panting.

The truck roared to life. The engine faded.

Jacob Wilde was gone.

Shaken, she slumped against the door.

“Damn you,” she whispered.

Tears filled her eyes. Not tears of sorrow. She had never believed in feeling sorry for herself.

It was just that after all this time, she’d behaved exactly the way the world had always seen her, first when she was a girl and an entire town seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her to become her mother’s daughter, and then after Charlie’s death.

What had happened with Jacob Wilde made no sense. You slept with a man after you got to know him. After you decided you liked him, had things in common. You went to dinner, to the theater; you took long walks, came home, made popcorn, watched a movie.

Addison tossed her purse and the flashlight on a small table.