Tall, Dark And Texan
A wrong exit off the freeway and Hollywood-bound Wendy Jamison is suddenly in a worst-case scenario in the worst part of Dallas…until bounty hunter Michael Wolfe roars up on his motorbike. He's the right kind of dangerous–powerful, brooding and hot as hell. Staying in Texas was never in the cards, although Wolfe's incredible kisses may just make her reconsider….Wolfe knows trouble when he sees it. The moment he rescues Wendy, he knows he should walk away. But she's a sexy spitfire, and since her car and money are gone, he lets her stay with him–temporarily. Her sweet body and fast talk can only mean trouble. He's always been a loner–except having Wendy in his bed every night isn't such a bad perk!
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Wolfe was stark naked
Wendy froze, stunned at the sight. Back away. Leave his room. But she couldnât. Not when her eyes were glued to the most beautiful male body sheâd ever seen.
Suddenly he began to move. Wendy thought about running, but then Wolfe saw her, and she knew it was too late. As he turned and sat up on the edge of the bed, for a split second she was sure she was going to get a glimpse of the part of his body that would make the rest of him pale in comparison.
âWhat are you doing in here?â
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her eyes roved over his body as if they had a mind of their own, finally landing below his waist.
âHey!â he said. âYou want to look somewhere else? Pervert.â
Pervert? He was calling her a pervert?
âExhibitionist,â she muttered.
âI live here! If you donât like it, you know where the door is!â
âActually,â she said, âI like it just fine.â
Dear Reader,
Picture yourself the victim of a turn of events that leaves you stranded at midnight in the middle of a sleet storm on the mean streets of an unfamiliar city. You have no coat, no money and you know no one within five hundred miles.
Now imagine you hear the roar of an engine, and the biggest, baddest man youâve ever seen rides up on a motorcycle. He offers to take you someplace warm and safe. What do you do? Keep walking and freeze to death, or hop on and hope for the best? Thatâs the situation Wendy Jamison finds herself in, and the decision she makes changes her life!
Wendy Jamison and Michael Wolfe are as different as any two people can be, but it doesnât take long before she sees beyond his big, bad image and brings out the kind and compassionate man he really is. And little does she know that when he offers to let her stay with him for one night, there are going to be many more hot nights to come!
Visit me on the Web at www.janesullivan.com, or write to me at [email protected]. Iâd love to hear from you!
Best wishes,
Jane Sullivan
Books by Jane Sullivan
HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION
854âONE HOT TEXAN
898âRISKY BUSINESS
HARLEQUIN DUETS
33âSTRAY HEARTS
48âTHE MATCHMAKERâS MISTAKE
To all my wonderful friends at Dallas Area Romance Authors.
You amuse me, amaze me and inspire me.
Thanks for all the good times.
Iâm looking forward to many more!
Contents
1
WENDY JAMISON CREPT her 1992 Buick along the dark, deserted street, the February sleet storm pummeling her car and freezing wind whistling through the torn weather stripping around the passenger window. She hadnât planned on taking a midnight tour of the seedy part of downtown Dallas, but sheâd lost track of the turns sheâd made since exiting the freeway in search of a gas station and now she was hopelessly lost.
On either side of her, warehouses loomed several stories into the night sky, the majority of them boarded up. Most of the storefronts looked abandoned, topped by apartments that showed only an occasional dim light in a window. The sleet had stuck trash to the sidewalk in big, soggy piles that would probably still be there after the spring thaw. If it had been a hot summer night, the place would undoubtedly be crawling with the shadier side of society, but now, when she desperately needed to ask somebody how to get back to the freeway, there wasnât a pimp, a crack whore or a drug dealer in sight.
The problem was the trailer she was pulling. Filled with everything she owned, it had played hell with her mileage, running the little arrow on her gas gauge right into the red before she realized it. When that same little arrow had stopped floating and she still hadnât found an open station, sheâd gotten a little uptight.
Now, ten minutes later, she was wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans, trying to get a grip, telling herself that this was just one of those worst-case-scenario situations, which there had to be a solution to. Wendy knew how to stay alive during an avalanche, how to escape a sinking car and how to survive if her parachute failed to open in the event that she lost her mind and went skydiving. Unfortunately, sheâd never read about how to get out of a sleazy, unfamiliar, convoluted downtown neighborhood during a winter storm in a car that was choking along on its last gas fumes.
Find a way. Youâll never get to L.A. if you canât get through Dallas first.
She pulled up to the next intersection, which looked every bit as squalid as the last one. Putting her car in Park, she fumbled through the stuff on her passenger seat, looking for the Texas map sheâd picked up at the border. She doubted it would include a map specific enough to get her back to the freeway, but right now it was her only shot.
Then she noticed movement outside her driverâs window. Whipping around, she was shocked to see a man standing beside her car. A big, ugly, hairy man.
