âIâm a thief, Paloma. It wonât matter what you say. Theyâll assume that I coerced you and toss me back into jail.â
âNot without proof, they wonât.â
âSince when do they need proof to arrest someone?â
âI donât know what happened with your arrest,â she admitted. âBut you donât have to worry about tonight.â
Dante slanted her a glance. âThereâs still one problem.â
âWhat?â
âI donât believe you.â
He didnât believe sheâd stand up for him? âWhy not?â
âWhy should I?â
âBecause I said I would. And my word is good.â
âYouâve been lying to me from the start.â
âThe reason I need that tape doesnât matter.â
âIt matters. Iâm in this mess as much as you are, so you damned well owe me the truth. And until I get it, Iâm not letting you out of my sight.â
âWhat?â
âYou heard me, Princess. Youâre stuck with me until I decide Iâm out.â
Dear Reader,
I love edgy heroes. The more cynical, disillusioned and bitter they are, the more they fascinate me. Thatâs why I invented the Stealth Knightsâheroes who straddle that murky line between right and wrong, who are neither all-good nor all-bad, and who prove that nothing in life is as clear-cut as it seems.
The hero of High-Stakes Affair, Dante Quevedo, is one such complicated man. A modern-day Robin Hood, Dante dedicates his life to righting the injustices done to his downtrodden people, albeit through unorthodox means. But when circumstances force him to team up with his sworn enemy, Princess Paloma Vergara, he discovers she isnât the frivolous royal he believedâand that the woman who once seemed completely wrong for him might instead be exactly right.
I hope you enjoy this latest installment in the STEALTH KNIGHTS miniseries.
Happy reading!
Gail Barrett
GAIL BARRETT always knew sheâd be a writer. Who else would spend her childhood grinding sparkling rocks into fairy dust and convincing her friends it was real? Or daydream her way through elementary school, spend high school reading philosophy and playing the bagpipes, and then head off to Spain during college to live the writerâs life? After four years she straggled back homeâbroke, but fluent in Spanish. She became a teacher, earned a masterâs degree in linguistics, married a coast guard officer and had two sons.
But she never lost the desire to write. Then one day, she discovered a Mills & Boon>® novel in a bookstoreâand knew she was destined to write romance. Her books have won numerous awards, including a National Readersâ Choice Award and Romance Writers of Americaâs prestigious Golden Heart.
Gail currently lives in western Maryland. Readers can contact her through her website, www.gailbarrett.com.
Dedication
To Liz and Amanda, for making my sons so happy.
Acknowledgements
Iâd like to thank the following people for their enormous help with this story: Loni Glover for her emergency brainstorming sessions; Ken Archer for providing me with accounting details; Elle Kennedy for her much-needed encouragement; Judith Sandbrook and Mary Jo Archer for their invaluable critiques; and last, but not least, my husband, John, for not complaining when I went AWOL to finish this book.
If there was one thing Dante Quevedo knew intimately, it was revenge. Heâd lived it, breathed it and plotted it for twenty years. And tonight it would finally be his.
He pressed the trigger on the remote control detonator, then watched as a potent mixture of C-4 and diesel fuel exploded, shooting brilliant orange flames high into the midnight sky and rumbling the ground beneath his feet. With a quick surge of satisfaction, he slid the detonator back into his knapsack, then slipped through the inky shadows to the machinery shed where the casinoâs emergency generators were housed.
The bombâs fire leaped and roared in the darkness. Security guards rushed past, shouting into their radios as they raced toward the rocketing blaze. Dante crept around the shed, the thick smoke shielding his movements from the surveillance cameras mounted on the walls, and paused at the metal door. Using his custom-made stainless-steel diamond pick, he jimmied the lock and stepped inside.
He glanced at his watch. Sixteen minutes. Not much time to disable the backup generators and get himself in place. Then the hacker would work his computer magic and cut the main power to the casino, allowing Dante to break into the penthouse, the aristocrat whoâd hired him in tow.
Misgivings stirred inside him, but he shook them off. Heâd agreed to the dealâhis release from prison in exchange for getting the unknown woman inside. Her reasons, her goalâhell, even her identityâdidnât matter.
Only Danteâs chance for vengeance did.
Resolve fisting deep inside him, he strode to the generatorsâ control panel, located the power switch and turned it off. Then he sawed through the fuel lines with his wire cutters and opened the drains on the tanks to buy more time. Diesel fuel poured out, the harsh fumes stinging his nostrils and watering his eyes. Knowing time was dwindling quickly, he returned to the door and peered outside.