Midnight Lies: The Wildefire Series (47 page)

Yes, she remembered that night all too well. Minutes after she had described her perfect
Christmas morning, they’d both been unconscious and then abducted.

“Don’t think about what happened after that. Just think about what you said you wanted.”

Relaxing into his arms, she said softly, “To wake up in this house, with you beside
me.”

“And?”

“Open presents and have a delicious breakfast.”

“And?”

“Go over to the Wilde house for a Christmas feast and open more presents. And come
back here, sit in front of the fire, and drink hot chocolate.” She grimaced. “Sounds
pretty tame, doesn’t it?”

His deep voice growled in her ear. “Sounds like heaven to me. And it’s exactly what
you’re going to get today.” He paused a heartbeat and then said, “Remember what I
said?”

She went breathless and weak instantly. “Oh yes, I definitely remember that.”

He rolled her over on her back and looked down at her. Concern mixed with desire seemed
an odd combination, but she appreciated both. Quinn had treated her
so tenderly these last couple of weeks. No pressure for anything more than a kiss
good night before they went to separate beds.

And she had needed those days to come to terms with all that had happened. Going through
that horrific event might have damaged her psyche for a while, but it had also shown
her something about herself she had never before acknowledged. Despite her accomplishments,
there had been lingering doubt within her that she wasn’t as strong as she needed
to be—certainly not as strong as Savvy or Bri. And now she knew she was. Not invincible
and far from perfect, but she had faced down a monster and survived. The thread of
steel she’d witnessed in her sisters was inside her, too.

She had told Quinn she was glad it had been her and not someone else. And while that
was true, she knew it might take a while to completely overcome the terror of that
night. Each day had been an improvement over the day before. Being able to talk with
Quinn about it, having his steady presence beside her, had helped tremendously.

“Sam?”

She gazed up at the man she loved more than life. He was everything she had ever hoped
for and dreamed about. People who didn’t believe in strong, romantic heroes had never
met Quinn Braddock. Sexiness and sensitivity were a rare combination.

Even now he was giving her a choice. If she wasn’t ready, he wouldn’t press her for
more. Samantha loved him all the more for his gentleness, but she needed him, ached
for him.

Brushing a strand of hair off his forehead, she whispered, “I love you, Quinn,” and
tugged him down to offer her mouth.

His groan sounded both tortured and thankful as he closed his mouth over hers and
delved deep. In seconds,
tenderness gave way to passion. Samantha’s nightgown disappeared, landing on the floor.
Quinn’s sweatpants followed. At last they were both deliciously, wonderfully nude.

Each lingering caress was met with a gasp of delight; rasping sighs followed every
delicious kiss. Quinn’s mouth moved over her entire body, lingering with extra tenderness
over the scars on her stomach and back. Samantha arched and purred like a cat, loving
the exquisite gentleness laced with a fierce passion.

When at last he came over her and slid inside, Samantha wrapped her legs around his
lean hips, arched her body, and gave herself up to the man who had given her so much—her
very own romance hero.

Quinn clenched his jaw to maintain his control. He wanted to make this last as long
as possible and be as perfect as she was to him. He’d been thinking about this for
days. The perfect time, perfect place. But now, as he surged deep within her once
more, the words broke free. Breathing them against her lips, he asked, “Want me?”

“Yes,” she moaned.

He withdrew and then went deep again. “Love me?”

On a breathy sigh, she answered, “Yes.”

Pulling completely out, he waited as Sam’s eyes opened and then focused. “Marry me?”

She gasped softly. “Are you sure? Because you don’t have—”

“Sweetheart, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I love you, Sam. I
want to spend my life with you, have babies with you. I want it all.”

Delight brightened her eyes as she tightened her arms and legs around him. “Then yes,
yes …”

He thrust deep within her just as she gasped out one last “Yes.”

Happy that she’d given him the answer he wanted,
Quinn settled into a gentle, easy rhythm, wanting to build her arousal back slowly,
carefully. And then when she was ready, they could fall over the edge together.

Sooner than he had expected, she was right there with him again, arching her body
toward his, grasping his hips and taking him as deeply as she could.

Climax shot through him like thunderous, silk lightning. The convulsions of her inner
muscles tightened around him as she found her own release. And Quinn gave himself,
body, heart, and soul, to the woman who had given him her all. In her arms, he found
peace and the knowledge that even in an imperfect world, one could find a perfect
love. And that’s exactly what Sam was to him—perfection.

This book would not have been possible without the love and support of the following:

Jim, for a million and one things, including comic relief and chocolate gifts.

My mom, sisters, and aunts, who show me each day that girls raised in the South are
something special.

My precious fur creatures, who shower me with unconditional love.

Anne, Crystal, Jackie, and Kara, for their help and wonderful words of encouragement.

Dr. Jennifer Grant, MD, who answered with extreme patience, kindness, and thoroughness
my questions on medical careers, stab wounds, blood spatter, resuscitations, and a
variety of other issues that I barely knew how to ask. Any mistakes are my own.

My editor, Junessa Viloria, for her insight. And to many people at Ballantine, including
Beth Pearson, Deb Dwyer, Craig White, and Scott Biel.

“Has the jury reached a verdict?” Judge Henry Houseman asked the group of twelve men
and women to his left.

The jury foreman, her expression carefully blank to give no indication of the result,
answered solemnly, “We have, your honor.”

As the court clerk took the jury’s decision from the foreman’s hand and handed it
to the judge, Assistant District Attorney Savannah Wilde stood behind the prosecutor’s
table, still and stiff. Though she had been through this process dozens of times,
that moment of not knowing always twisted every muscle in her body into intricate
knots of tension. She always found herself asking the same questions. Had she proven
the case? Had she done everything she could to bring justice to the victim? Was this
scumbag going to be set free like too many others had been?

His craggy face characteristically expressionless, Judge Houseman silently read the
verdict. The anxiety throughout the room was like a living, palpable entity as the
tension
increased to a fever pitch. The entire audience held a collective breath, waiting.

The judge nodded at the foreman, who then read, “We the jury find the defendant Donny
Lee Grimes guilty of murder in the first degree.”

Breaths were expelled, some with anger, most with relief. Savannah fought the urge
to shout, “Hallelujah!” Exhausted she might be, but the long days and nights she had
worked this case had paid off. The murdering son of a bitch was going away, hopefully
for a lifetime.

As the judge finished his instructions and set the date for sentencing, she glanced
over at her boss, District Attorney Reid Garrison. Though his expression remained
impassive, triumph gleamed in his eyes and the tension lines around his mouth had
eased. They had needed this win. Not only because Donny Lee Grimes was a murdering
creep who’d taken the life of a young father and husband, but because their record
lately had been dismal. Watching murderers and rapists walk out the door due to technicalities
or the prosecutors’ inability to prove their case was not only gut-wrenching but reflected
badly on the entire office. The mayor had chewed out Reid so many times lately, Savannah
was surprised he still had an ass.

And the ass chewing he got from his superiors he gladly turned around and gave to
his own people. Savannah had been on the receiving end much more than she cared to
remember.

But all of that could be set aside today. This was a good day for justice. Donny Lee’s
connections hadn’t saved him. The X-Kings, the gang he’d once been a prominent member
of, had apparently cut him loose. Only a few veiled threats had been made against
her—prompting an increase in her security—but nothing she hadn’t been through before.
Whatever influence Donny Lee once had with them was obviously gone.

The instant the judge stood and stepped down from behind the bench, Savannah allowed
her tense muscles to finally relax. Exhausted, she dropped into the chair behind her
and released a giant relieved whoosh of air. One more scumbag off the streets. One
more victim’s family had been given a slight amount of peace.

She ignored the weakness in her knees and the shakiness of her limbs. Having lived
with the feeling for the last few weeks, she knew full well what it meant. She was
on her final reserves. This was her last case for two weeks. Fourteen days of doing
nothing more taxing than ordering takeout and turning pages of novels. She was about
to take the first lengthy but very well deserved vacation of her career.

The sound of a ruckus caught her attention. Her head jerked up, too late. A large
male body flew across the table toward her. A glimpse of Donny Lee’s pockmarked face,
red with fury, was all she saw before his two-hundred-pound body slammed into hers.
Breath left her with stunning suddenness and Savannah crashed to the floor.

From a distance, she heard curses, screams, and shouts roar through the room. The
disgusting man on top of her grunted almost unintelligible words of warning in her
ear. Though dazed, Savannah wasn’t too incapacitated to lift her knee and jam it directly
into Donny Lee’s groin.

Howls and curses almost split her eardrum. Donny Lee was lifted off her and Savannah
could at last breathe. She sat up and leaned against the railing behind her, shaking
her head to clear it.

The worried and furious face of her boss appeared above her. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she answered, holding out her hand for him to help her up.

Eyeing her carefully, he pulled her to her feet. The lines
around his mouth and eyes had deepened. “We’ll charge the bastard with assault.”

Savannah breathed shakily as she flexed all moveable body parts, assuring herself
that nothing was broken. The ache in her shoulders and back told her that she was
going to be moving slowly and carefully for the next couple of days. Those fourteen
days of doing absolutely nothing were going to be even more welcome.

As Donny Lee was hauled out of the room, shouting obscenities and threats to the room
at large, Savannah kept a careful eye on him. He’d gotten away once; she wasn’t betting
on him not being able to do it again. She’d be ready this time. When the door closed
behind him, she allowed herself to slump against the railing for support.

“You sure you don’t need to go to the doctor?” Reid asked.

Savannah shook her head. “I’m fine. Just going to be sore for a few days.”

“That bastard say something to you?”

“Nothing new. That it wasn’t over … that they were coming for me.” The silence after
her statement had her gazing up at her boss. “What’s wrong?”

“Maybe you need to extend your vacation till after sentencing.”

A trill of fear swept through her. Not work for two months? She would go crazy. “I
had to work my ass off just to take these two weeks. There’s no way I can afford more—there
are too many cases for the ADAs already.”

“We’ll make do. I’d rather have you alive and able to come back to work.”

“Reid, seriously. Donny Lee was blowing smoke. Besides, I have police protection,
I’ll be fine.”

He shook his head. “That police protection will be going away in a day or so.” The
stern, determined look
that all his ADAs hated crossed his face. “I could order you.”

A huff of exasperation caused the pain in her back to increase. Dammit, she wished
she’d kneed Donny Lee even harder.

Reid continued his argument. “Just because we believe the X-Kings cut Donny Lee loose
doesn’t mean he doesn’t have some old friends who wouldn’t mind coming after you as
a favor. As of now, you’re off—two months minimum.”

“I can’t—”

Reid added, “Of course, I can’t pay you full salary.”

Though money wasn’t scarce for her and he knew it, that wasn’t the issue. “I’ll hire
a bodyguard. There’s no reason for—”

He snorted. “Hell, Savannah, you’d think I was sending you to jail. Get out of town;
get some sun. Go visit your sisters or take a long cruise. You’ve been working nonstop
for more than three years without a break. You’ve got more vacation time built up
than I do.”

That was an exaggeration but he was right. Other than the one-weekend-a-month visit
with her sisters, she hadn’t taken any time off in years. And she wouldn’t have taken
these two weeks she had planned if it wasn’t for the fact that she was just so damn
tired.

But two months? An image of the Wilde mansion, empty and lonely, popped into her head.
With two months to spare, no matter how much she dreaded the event, she had no excuses.