Deadly Charade - By Virna Depaul Page 0,1

much she loved him. How much she’d always love him. Even if they couldn’t be together.

She led him back to their bed, relieved he went without once looking back at that bag of pills. She straddled him, not wanting to dominate him, but to give to him. Even though it wasn’t enough, would never be enough, the desire that had been absent just minutes ago washed over her like a tidal wave.

Her hands caressed him. The strong shoulders so gracefully padded with muscle. The defined grooves in his chest, lightly dusted with hair. The smooth curly locks that had first drawn her to him.

Their breaths grew ragged the longer she touched him, and she was aware of his hands on her hips, lightly gripping her as he arched beneath her. He was hard and she moaned at the sharp spark of pleasure that twisted through her. Frantically she reached down and guided him into her welcoming heat.

She bit her lip at how thoroughly he filled her.

Why, she longed to cry. Why couldn’t this be enough for him?

But she kept the words inside. Later, they’d talk. Later, he’d seek to reassure her. To reason with her that he hadn’t actually taken a pill. To tell her that he loved her and always would and would never jeopardize what they had together.

He’d mean every single word he said. And she’d be tempted to believe him, even though she couldn’t.

All she could have was right now. His body in hers. Her body over his. Loving him enough for a lifetime when all they had left together was tonight.

Chapter 1

Three and a half years later...

Pitting oneself against a drug lord definitely had its downsides, Tony Cooper thought as he sat in his car in front of the Sacramento County Courthouse, watching for any sign of his ex, Linda Delaney.

The first time he’d challenged Mark Guapo, he’d still been reeling from his breakup with Linda some eighteen months before and hoping that by narking on his former drug supplier, he might be able to win her back. The downside? Six months after that, Linda had been lying in a hospital bed, recovering from the wounds that Guapo’s men had inflicted on her, and he’d been forced to leave her and accompany his sister Mattie and his niece Jordan into the Witness Security Program.

Now, eighteen months later, he was back, this time to infiltrate Guapo’s organization—which despite the other man’s prison address, had been steadily expanding—and convince people he was taking over. His main objective? Identify the supplier of a dangerous hybrid bath-salt drug, Rapture. The downside? Too many to list, but the biggest was making sure Linda stayed safe this time and that meant staying the hell away from her.

Yet here he was, hoping for just one glimpse of her. One glimpse to replace his last memory of her, beaten and bruised. One glance to get him through the next few weeks, months and years without her. Then he’d start his car and leave. No one would guess he was here to see her.

Just in case, however, he visually swept the surrounding area, just as he’d done every few minutes for the past half hour.

No one appeared to be watching him, but he knew what they’d see if they were.

What Linda would see.

Would she even recognize him? Sometimes he didn’t even recognize himself.

Every detail of his appearance had been chosen with care. Gone was the curly brown hair that had made him look boyish even when he’d been breaking the law. In its place was a shaved head that showed off his eyebrow piercing to its best advantage. The scars on his face, the ones left over from the beatings Michael Sabon, Guapo’s brother, had given him, added to the overall look, declaring him to be a badass to the nth degree.

But he didn’t feel like one.

He felt like the weakling he was. The same weakling who’d gotten addicted to prescription painkillers in the first place, ultimately losing the love of his life as a result. The same weakling Linda hadn’t trusted to refrain from using again.

To some extent she’d been wrong. Just as he’d told her, he hadn’t used since before he’d met her, which meant he’d been clean for over five years now. Even so, there had been several close calls, including the night she’d caught him with those damn pills. And there were still plenty of times he doubted his ability to stay clean. Plenty of times his behavior had been affected