Why would this man be angry with her?
âIâ¦donât know who you are or why you think you know me.â Stella met the manâs gaze, determined to prove her point, but somewhere deep inside, in the far recesses of her mind, something intangible registered.
A wild and primitive awareness flickered in his eyes, something predatory, an almost hungry look, as if sheâd not only met him, but that heâd known her intimately.
As quickly as the moment came, it fled, and she was thrust back into the depths of lost time.
âThis isnât funny, Stella.â Luke stalked toward her, stopped and gritted his teeth. âIâve been searching for you ever since you ran out on our wedding night.â
Stella gasped, perspiration beading her lip. Wedding night? What was he talking about? Sheâd never been marriedâ¦.
Had she?
Vows of Vengeance
Rita Herron
To all the fans of my Nighthawk Island seriesâ
thanks for your feedback and support. Hope you enjoy this one!
Award-winning author Rita Herron wrote her first book when she was twelve, but didnât think real people grew up to be writers. Now she writes so she doesnât have to get a real job. A former kindergarten teacher and workshop leader, she traded her storytelling for kids for romance, and writes romantic comedies and romantic suspense. She lives in Georgia with her own romantic hero and three kids. She loves to hear from readers, so please write her at P.O. Box 921225, Norcross, GA 30092-1225, or visit her Web site at www.ritaherron.com.
Special Agent Luke DevlinâAn FBI agent who never crossed the lineâuntil he met the enigmatic Stella Segall and married her.
Stella SegallâLukeâs wife disappeared on their wedding night without a trace. Now, accused of murder, she insists she has no memory of her traumatic past or the man who claims to be her husbandâLuke Devlin.
Dorothy SegallâStellaâs mother supposedly sold her when she was an infant, but Stellaâs returning memories hint at a different story.
Kat Dixon & Jaycee ShortâTwo hired and trained killers just like Stellaâor are they?
Spencer GrossmanâLukeâs superior at the agency suspected that Lukeâs partner was a bad agent. Now heâs gunning to find out if Luke had joined him.
J. T. OsborneâOsborneâs death was ruled a suicideâ wasnât it?
Drake SuttonâA stranger who claims to be Stellaâs guardianâhis sinister secrets may destroy them all.
Marvin AndrewsâThis reporter who will do anything for a storyâwill he die trying to write it?
The MasterâHe trained them all to kill without a conscienceâis it his turn to die now?
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
It was Luke Devlinâs wedding day. The happiest day of his life.
Nothing could go wrong.
He and Stella had arrived at the chapel just before it had closed. Theyâd already exchanged vows. And now his wife was waiting in the honeymoon suite, preparing for their wedding night.
A night of ecstasy he couldnât wait to begin.
Neon lights flashed across the night sky on the Vegas strip as he rushed to the car to retrieve the champagne and roses heâd bought for the occasion. Granted, he wasnât much of a romantic. Hell, he wasnât romantic at all. And he wasnât even sure he knew how to be a husband. But heâd decided to give it a try.
After all, heâd never met anyone like Stella.
She hadnât wanted a big, fancy wedding and neither had he. Sheâd insisted they drive to Vegas, instead of marrying in D.C. where theyâd met. Theyâd gotten in around eleven, picked out simple wedding bands at a jewelry store nearby and had a nice quiet romantic dinner with a bottle of red wine. After toasting their future, theyâd found an Elvis chapel offering a special deal for midnight ceremonies.
Even though the chapel had been somewhat cheesy, he wanted the honeymoon night to be special. Memorable.
And it would be. After the ceremony, theyâd hurried back to the hotel as excited as if theyâd floated into paradise.
Heady images drifted to mind as he jogged to the elevator. Stella in a bubble bath waiting for him, sipping champagne as he licked bubbles from her breasts. Stella naked and lying on that heartshaped bed with her hair spilling across the pillow and her legs open wide. Stella whispering that she wanted to go down on him as theyâd left the chapel. Him doing the same for her afterward, giving her pleasure, and hearing her long-winded ecstatic cries.
Then being inside her, all night longâ¦
A blissful evening of making love where, for once in his life, he could forget he was FBI. That he had an endless number of cases to work. Murders to solve. Killers to hunt down. Women and children to protect.
A life of violent and heinous crimes.
One that didnât include pleasure.
A life he wanted to share with Stella.
A frisson of anxiety suddenly assaulted him, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. He had this feeling often. Every damn time he went to a potential crime scene.