Man of Her Dreams by Debra Webb (best smutty novels txt) 📗

path. She ignored the couple arguing in a doorway as she passed. Paid no attention to what looked like a gang hanging out on the corner with a boom box blaring the latest rap chart hit.

This was New Orleans. Nothing was out of place; nothing surprised longtime residents. She just kept marching forward, head held high, shoulders squared, showing no fear. This was her home, same as for those who loved to intimidate. Catcalls and whistles echoed behind her as she moved past the gang of what her mother would have called thugs. Probably just young guys with nothing else to do.

She crossed the street to the next block which was tree-lined to the point of near darkness. She refused to allow the uneasiness to take root as she pushed forward, moving out of the warm sunlight and into the ominous shadows. Ancient houses sat so close together that hardly a sprig of grass separated them. Each had its own little postage-stamp front yard that consisted mainly of huge old oak trees which canopied the sidewalk and street like a protective awning.

Only another block or so and she’d hit St. Charles and the generous sunlight the October sky offered. As she passed an alley between two shops, someone called her name. She hesitated, frowned. At least she thought she’d heard her name called. Maybe it was her imagination. She stepped closer to the alley and peered into the dark passage. A Dumpster. Garbage cans. Not much else. A cat hissed and jumped down from an open can, leaving whatever treasures it contained to two other, more aggressive felines sitting atop it, tails twitching.

Darby Shepard. The whispered words feathered across her nerve endings, making her shiver.

She moved closer still, cocking her head, listening, watching, for any sound…any movement.

“Madam Talia sent me.”

Darby drew up short, gasping for the oxygen currently evacuating her lungs.

“Shhh!” the woman warned.

Darby reclaimed her composure and moved farther into the deep shadows. “Who are you?” Fear should have skittered up her spine, but it didn’t.

“I work for Madam Talia. She sent me here to give you a message.”

Darby almost laughed. How could Madam Talia have known that she would take this route? She hadn’t even known.

“What kind of message?” Darby’s eyes had adjusted to the lack of light and she could see that it was, indeed, the receptionist from Madam Talia’s place of business. “How did you know I’d be here?”

The woman smiled. She was much shorter than Darby and a bit on the heavy side. Forty-five or fifty, maybe. Her smile warmed her usual, business-like expression.

“Madam Talia knows many things, Ms. Shepard,” she reminded.

Darby nodded. She definitely couldn’t deny the assertion. She sensed that Madam Talia was a very powerful woman. The only question in her mind was the source of that power.

“She wanted me to warn you that your life is in grave danger.”

If she’d said most anything else, Darby wouldn’t have been surprised. But this…the nightmares were over. Lester was in jail awaiting trial or arraignment…whatever.

“How? From who? I don’t understand,” she said, shaking her head. “Lester is in jail. He can’t hurt me—”

The woman manacled her arm. “Listen to her!” she whispered harshly. “She never makes a mistake.”

For the first time since she heard her name called, she felt a prick of fear. “Surely she gave you some idea of how my life was in danger.”

This didn’t make sense. Why wouldn’t she sense the danger herself? The only change in her life was the whole business with helping those kids and putting Lester behind bars. Well, she amended, there was a new job and Aidan. Surely he meant her no harm. He’d certainly had the perfect opportunity last night to hurt her if that were his intent.

“This doesn’t make sense,” she murmured aloud before the woman could answer her question.

“Madam Talia said to tell you that the threat comes from the men in the white coats. She said you would understand.”

Ice-cold terror slid through Darby’s veins. “You’re certain that’s what she said?”

The woman nodded gravely.

“Thank you,” Darby managed, the words brittle. “Thank Madam Talia. I…” Her voice betrayed her, quavering with fear. “I have to go.”

She turned away, her movements stiff, awkward.

“Better lock your door,” the woman called after her.

Darby stalled just beyond the mouth of the alley, her feet mired in the sidewalk that suddenly turned to swampy quicksand.

One, two, I’m coming for you. Three, four, better lock your door.

Time lapsed into slow motion. Silence coagulated around her. Darby turned, the movement seeming to take an eternity. Her gaze went back to the dark alley and the woman who’d delivered the warning.

She was gone.

Darby blinked, and time and place zoomed back into vivid focus. She spun slowly around amid the chaos that was constant, an everyday part of New Orleans life. The chaos that had been strangely missing only moments ago when she had been alone in an alley with the woman Madam Talia had sent. The sunlight reached through the trees and warmed her face. The music from the boom box blasted her eardrums. The guys loitering on the corner of the last block danced, blatantly sexual moves to the erotic beat. And the couple in the doorway was lost in a passionate kiss.

The threat comes from the men in the white coats.

They knew she was here.

The realization shook her like the propulsion from a rocket during takeoff.

In that instant, a new awareness settled deep into her bones.

They were coming for her.

WHEN SHE’D REACHED the gate to the courtyard behind her apartment, Darby paused to catch her breath. She glanced warily, first right and then left. The side street was empty. No one had followed her and yet every step of the way she’d felt as if someone was right on her heels.

Maybe the warning had merely made her paranoid. Whatever the case, she couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense that more than one set of eyes watched her.

She rested her forehead against the wrought-iron gate and released a heavy breath. She hated