Wilde Novellas

By: Janelle Dennison

“Leave your hair down.”

Startled by the deep, masculine voice she’d heard, she dropped her unfinished braid and whirled around, her gaze scanning the room in a quick sweep. She caught a subtle movement just outside the open French doors. Heart racing, she tried to make out the shadow, wondering if it, and the sexy male voice she’d heard, were all a product of her overactive imagination.

A summer breeze blew outside, rustling a light sprinkling of leaves across the patio. The sultry warmth swept through the room, fluttering her silk chemise around her thighs. Her skin tightened, and the little hairs on her arms prickled to attention just as a large silhouette moved into the open archway, the unmistakable size and build of a man. Silvery moonlight glinted off his dark hair and gave him a surreal aura.

She gasped and took a step back, ready to brandish the brush in her hand as a weapon, if need be. “Who’s there?” she demanded.

The man entered her room, bold as he pleased. But instead of running for the phone to call for help, she stared in stunned disbelief, more intrigued by Eric Wilde’s presence than she would have liked. His hair was tousled in wild disarray around his head, and he wore tight black jeans that molded to lean hips and long, muscular legs, and a black T-shirt that stretched taut across his chest. He looked dark and forbidding as original sin, and dangerous in a way that excited her.

She swallowed hard and found her voice again. “What are you doing here?”

He moved toward her, a lazy smile curving his sensuous lips. “You’ve been waiting for me,” he stated confidently, his tone as pretentious as his entrance into her private life.

She opened her mouth to deny his claim, and quickly snapped it shut again. Despite whatever game he was playing, she couldn’t lie. She’d dreamed of him too many nights to count, a fantasy lover who came to her in the dark of the night to fulfill her desires. She’d just never expected him to appear in the flesh. And she’d never expected him to look so good, so sexually intense.

He strolled past her to her dresser with a pantherlike grace that brought all her feminine senses to keen awareness. There was power beneath that control he exuded—power she sensed that once unleashed would have the ability to consume the woman he was with. She wanted that heat and strength to consume her.

She continued to watch him, mesmerized, as he lifted one of her perfume atomizers to his nose and inhaled the fragrance. He closed his eyes as he did so, making it seem like an erotic experience in which she wanted to share. When he lifted his raven lashes again, his eyes were filled with a raw hunger, directed solely at her.

She began to tremble, from the inside out, and struggled to maintain the upper hand in this scenario. “Did you know that breaking and entering is against the law?”

“I didn’t break in,” he said, his voice low and amused. “You left your doors wide open, which isn’t safe, by the way.”

She rolled her eyes heavenward. “I’ve lived in this house all my life and there’s never been a problem with prowlers in this neighborhood… until tonight,” she added meaningfully.

He absently touched the other feminine things on her dresser, his fingers lingering on her personal items. “I’m not a prowler.”

She eyed him critically, taking in his choice of clothing, his arrogance, and the way the entire length of him radiated pure, unadulterated sensuality. “At the moment, you look very predatory to me.”

“And you like it.” His gaze slid from her face to her chest, then back up again. “The fast-beating pulse in your throat is a dead giveaway, as are the hard nipples pressing against your nightgown.”

She resisted the urge to cover her body’s response to him with her hands and deny his too accurate claim.

He slowly circled around her, so close she could feel the heat of his body, the subtle brush of his hand over her silk-clad bottom. “You’re filled with anticipation,” he murmured huskily, “wondering what I’m going to do, if I’m going to touch you, or kiss you, or if I plan to strip you naked and have my way with you right here and now.”

God, how did he know her so well that he could verbalize her thoughts and know exactly what she ached for? “What do you want, Eric?”

He stopped in front of her. In direct contrast to his dark attire, his eyes were a stunning, sultry shade of blue that made her weak in the knees. “There’s no sense beating around the bush in terms of what I want. I’m here to issue you a proposition.”

She was too curious to hear the rest of what he had to say to interrupt him with her own immediate misgivings.

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