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

longer. She definitely had the determination one would expect in an Enforcer. She had the talents he’d expected as well. Disuse and lack of training had rendered them unreliable. But they were there just the same.

He walked cautiously toward the looming metal building, its siding rusty with age. A place of business would surely have some sort of security system.

When he rounded the corner, he crossed paths with the security on duty.

A low growl emanated from the big dog, its breed not readily identifiable but its intent crystal clear.

“Steady, boy,” he said softly. Security patrolled with similar animals at Center, but Aidan rarely encountered one without its handler. Yet he felt no fear. He knew techniques to disable the animal without doing permanent damage if the need arose. “Have you made this animal’s acquaintance before?” he asked of his companion, careful to keep his voice low and nonthreatening.

“Here you go, fella,” Darby murmured to the dog.

Sniffing, the dog cocked his head to one side and moved closer to her. She held out what appeared to be a large bone of suspect origin. The dog latched on to it and loped away to ensure privacy while he devoured it. Well, that answered his question plainly enough. Obviously she had encountered the animal previously which was why she’d known to bring a treat.

“He was here before,” she said when her gaze collided with his. “He gave the police a hard time until his owner took him inside.”

Aidan nodded. He could definitely imagine that very scenario.

“This way.”

Against his better judgment, he allowed her to lead. Her stealth surprised him. He wondered just how good she would be had she been subjected to the same training as him. Quite good, he estimated.

She surveyed the offerings a moment before pointing to what looked to be a ten-foot pirogue. The long, slender vessel was similar to a canoe but more efficiently designed. The pirogue rocked as they climbed aboard. She tossed her backpack on a pile of crawfish nets. He removed the loop of rope that anchored it to the dock at the same time that she reached for the push-pole.

With a succinct shake of his head, he took it from her. She surrendered without argument and pointed south. He pushed away from the dock, the sinuous feel of the boat sliding soundlessly through the black water.

The voices had drawn her here. Though he couldn’t hear them, he sensed her urgency. Felt her desperate need to find the remains of Lester’s victims.

Like Aidan, she had a mission. To see that those children made it home.

Unfamiliar emotions welled inside him as he considered how much she was willing to risk.

Her willingness to sacrifice was what had brought her here…would cost her more than she imagined if he learned she was hiding the truth.

He surveyed the dark primordial world that lay before them. Lester wanted to hurt her. Aidan could feel his hatred, his desire for vengeance in the heavy air. He’d passed this way…not long ago.

But Jerry Lester was inconsequential in the scheme of things.

He was already dead. He just didn’t know it yet.

Chapter Nine

Darby could only hope that the big old ham bone she’d found frozen in the freezer held no sentimental value for her friend. Knowing her friend’s penchant for fifteen-bean soup, Darby assumed she’d been saving it for making soup. But she couldn’t be sure. In any event, she had been gone for six months, had six to go. Who wanted a ham bone that old in their soup?

Lacking any real culinary talent, Darby could only pray that ham bones didn’t age the same way wine did. Thankfully, her distraction had worked; the watchdog had taken the bait.

She scanned the bank on either side of the dark, inky water. Not that she could see much. The moon was scarcely a sliver in the black velvet canvas of the sky. But she’d been here before, knew that rickety shacks on stilts dotted the shore here and there. Rusty metal boathouses rose up from the water like swamp monsters. Shrimp boats and other smaller vessels sat as still as stone upon the glassy surface. The folks who lived here represented a different breed. Some were good, hardworking types who never bothered anyone and who had simply chosen a simpler way of life. Others were barely a cut above criminals, poachers and the like, thriving in the world where alligators ruled.

The waterway branched off again and again. Each time she gestured vaguely, Aidan somehow seemed to know what she meant, even in the consuming darkness.

A gauzy white mist drifted like smoke on the water’s surface, winding through the gnarled, moss-laden cypress trees. The chirps and trill of insects and the song of frogs filtered through the night. The air was heavy with scents, some sweet, some definitely not.

The swamp was in reality a place of natural beauty. During the day or on a night blessed by a full moon, one would see great blue herons and tall, slender egrets as they fished along the bank. One might also see other wild animals such as snakes, turtles, raccoons, black bears, red wolves, deer and exotic birds.

And then there were the ever-present alligators. More than 500,000, according to the latest statistics. The thought had no more flickered through her mind than right next to the pirogue she sensed the distinct ripple through the water of one of the primitive creatures. She shuddered.

A whoosh of energy went through her and she knew they were getting close.

Close to that simple rectangular cabin where Lester had held the children. The bastard had taunted them, had allowed them to go without food and water until they’d pleaded with him, done anything he’d asked for a mere sip of water.

Thank God he hadn’t sexually abused any of them. Lester’s problem wasn’t about sex; it was about power. The children belonged to him, were his possessions. With his twisted personality and bizarre perception of life, the chance