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A Kept Woman
Sheri WhiteFeather
THERE ARE ALL KINDS OF CAGES. Once the glamorous mistress to a high-powered mob boss, Natalie Pascal was now a kept woman of a very different sort. Her new keeper: U.S. Marshal Zack Ryder, the handsome man assigned to give her a new identity and a chance to cleanse her torrid past. Soon, only her guardian's presence could comfort her, only his touch could chase away her nightmares.Zack always played by the rules and that meant never getting involved with a witness. If Natalie's cover was compromised, she'd be given a new life - one he'd know nothing about. But trying to deny his desire for the vulnerable beauty was compromising his very ability to see danger approaching.By succumbing to Natalie's siren song, Zack could destroy his career and maybe his own safety. Now, who was keeping whom?
“Make Me Stop,” He Said. “Tell Me This Is Wrong.”
Natalie froze. “I can’t.” She wanted to caress his face, to follow the angles and hard lines, to shape them with her hands. But she couldn’t seem to summon the courage.
“Say it,” he beckoned.
Silent, she remained where she was, her body flooded with warmth. She needed him, and she couldn’t bear to let go, to lose the connection. He closed his eyes. With a quaking hand, she pressed her palm to his chest and felt the erratic beats.
When he opened his eyes, she took her hand away. A minute passed. Or mabe it was a second. For Natalie, time stood still.
“I can’t,” she said again. “I can’t tell you it’s wrong.”
“Then I’m taking you.” Zack’s voice turned rough. “I’m taking all of you.”
Dear Reader,
Welcome back to another passionate month at Silhouette Desire. A Scandal Between the Sheets is breaking out as Brenda Jackson pens the next tale in the scintillating DYNASTIES: THE DANFORTHS series. We all love the melodrama and mayhem that surrounds this Southern family—how about you?
The superb Beverly Barton stops by Silhouette Desire with an extra wonderful title in her bestselling series THE PROTECTORS. Keeping Baby Secret will keep you on the edge of your seat—and curl your toes all at the same time. What would you do if you had to change your name and your entire history? Sheri WhiteFeather tackles that compelling question when her heroine is forced to enter the witness protection program in A Kept Woman. Seems she was a kept woman of another sort, as well…so be sure to pick up this fabulous read if you want the juicy details.
Kristi Gold has written the final, fabulous installment of THE TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB: THE STOLEN BABY series with Fit for a Sheikh. (But don’t worry, we promise those sexy cattlemen with be back.) And rounding out the month are two wonderful stories filled with an extra dose of passion: Linda Conrad’s dramatic Slow Dancing With A Texan and Emilie Rose’s suppercharged A Passionate Proposal.
Enjoy all we have to offer this month—and every month—at Silhouette Desire.
Melissa Jeglinski
Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire
A Kept Woman
Sheri Whitefeather
SHERI WHITEFEATHER
lives in Southern California and enjoys ethnic dining, attending powwows and visiting art galleries and vintage clothing stores near the beach. Since her one true passion is writing, she is thrilled to be a part of the Silhouette Desire line. When she isn’t writing, she often reads until the wee hours of the morning.
Sheri’s husband, a member of the Muscogee Creek Nation, inspires many of her stories. They have a son, a daughter and a trio of cats—domestic and wild. She loves to hear from her readers. You may write to her at: P.O. Box 17146, Anaheim, California 92817. Visit her Web site at www.SheriWhiteFeather.com.
To my readers:
Many of you have commented that you enjoy stories
that push the envelope, and A Kept Woman
is no exception. I was particularly fascinated by the
early days of WITSEC (the witness protection program)
and decided to combine some of the early security
methods with the modern program. A Kept Woman
is my interpretation of a security field inspector toppling
into a forbidden, heart-bound affair with a witness.
This story blends fact, fiction and creative liberties and
does not necessarily represent the inner workings
of this highly effective and controversial program.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
One
Natalie Pascal was nervous. Deputy U.S. Marshal Zack Ryder sensed it from the moment he saw her. As a WITSEC field inspector, he’d encountered plenty of edgy witnesses, and this stunning blonde was no exception. Scanning the passengers filtering into the baggage claim area, he moved forward to make his presence known, to greet the woman he’d been assigned to relocate.
“Natalie.” He said her name and she looked up and caught his gaze. For a moment, they just stood in the midst of a bustling airport, staring at each other. Like strangers, he thought, whose lives were about to collide.
“So you’re him,” she said.
He nodded. “Yep. I’m him. Zack Ryder.” Her field inspector, the deputy marshal who would help Nancy Perris adjust to her new identity, to becoming Natalie Pascal.
She didn’t extend her hand and he didn’t offer his. He figured she wasn’t keen on shaking hands with a lawman, on being too friendly. He’d seen old photographs of her; he knew her history. Prior to her acceptance into the Witness Security Program, she’d been a hot-as-sin, buxom brunette, as well as the girlfriend of a Los Angeles mobster.
These days, she was a reed-thin blonde, with stylishly cropped hair and tinted contacts. The golden-brown color made her eyes seem cougarlike, but he supposed the smoky black liner enhanced the effect, too. Tall and chic, she wore an elegant pantsuit, tailored to fit her slim form.
Zack motioned to the luggage turntable. “Let me know when you see your bags.”
She shifted her purse, adjusting the strap on her shoulder. “There’s only one.”
He didn’t comment. He already knew she was traveling light. WITSEC would deliver the rest of her belongings, what little there was. Natalie had liquidated just about everything she owned, everything her mobster boyfriend had given her. “So,” he said, reverting to small talk. “How was your flight?”
She glanced away, making him aware of her discomfort. Arriving in an unfamiliar city to meet an unfamiliar man couldn’t be easy. But it beat the hell out of the alternative, he thought. Natalie had agreed to testify against her former lover. And if the mob found her, they would kill her. Her old boyfriend wasn’t an underling. He was David Halloway, the new boss of the West Coast Family.
Finally, she shifted her gaze back to his, and when she did, they stared at each other again. “My flight was fine. Just fine,” she added in a cracked whisper, in a voice so low he could barely hear it.
Because he got the crazy notion to touch her, he broke eye contact. Was she for real? Or was she playing head games? He’d expected her to be a revamped gun moll, but he hadn’t predicted the delicate edge of vulnerability.
Zack remained silent. He was pretty good at idle chitchat. But at the moment, communicating with this woman eluded him.
“That one is mine,” she said suddenly.
“What?”
She motioned to a suitcase on the turntable. “The one with the gold ribbon.”
“Got it.” A bit terse, he reached for the bag. Over the years, he’d learned not to trust too deeply, not to allow the criminals-turned-witnesses to con him, not to BS their way into his good graces. He wasn’t about to get compromised, especially by a mistress.
He turned to face her, and she took a step back, confusing him even more. “Are you ready?” he asked.
She nodded, and he guided her to the parking lot. It was his job to protect her, to give her a chance to start a new life. And Zack was damn good at his job.
Silent, Natalie walked beside him. Her strides weren’t as long as his, but they were close. She moved like a runway model, like a lean, lithe, sexual creature—a woman who’d gotten by on her looks.
They reached his black sedan and he popped the trunk and stowed her bag. When he opened the passenger door for her, she gave him a hesitant look. Did she think he had a trick up his sleeve because he was behaving like a gentleman?
He climbed behind the wheel, and she buckled her seat belt and gazed out the windshield. He reached for his cigarettes and shook one from the pack. Igniting the tip, he inhaled a gust of nicotine and tobacco, a habit he had no intention of breaking. At forty, he was more than set in his ways.
Squinting through a haze of smoke, Zack backed out of the parking stall, wishing Natalie didn’t rub him the wrong way. He’d relocated criminals, as well as innocent people. Husbands, wives, children. Families who’d sacrificed their safety to do the right thing. He wasn’t sure where Natalie Pascal fit in. For the first time in his career, a witness had managed to baffle him.
He slid her a sideways glance, and she pushed her bangs out of her eyes. “Are you all right?” he asked.
She placed her hands on her lap. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“This is a monumental change. Different from what you’re used to.”
“I can handle it.”
Could she? he wondered. She’d been a kept woman for most of her adult life and, at twenty-nine, that left her out of the mainstream loop. “It’s okay to be scared.”
She barely blinked. “Scared? About relocating to Idaho? I’m looking forward to living in Coeur d’Alene. I’ve heard it’s a nice place.”
“Yes, it is.” But he wasn’t buying her I’m-in-control facade. Although WITSEC had provided her with psychological counseling to prepare her for the move, she was still anxious, he thought. Restless about her future, afraid the West Coast Family would find her.
“WITSEC showed me a videotape of Coeur d’Alene,” she said.
“I know,” he responded, wondering why she’d agreed to testify against her former lover. Revenge? Fear? With Natalie, he couldn’t be sure.
What kind of woman would sleep with a mobster? A married mobster, no less. Her affair with David Halloway shouldn’t matter, but the idea twisted Zack’s gut, reminding him of the day he’d caught his ex-wife in bed with another man.
When his knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, he eased his grip. In a roundabout way, his wife had blamed him for her infidelity, claiming his job had interfered with their marriage. But that was a load of bull. In Zack’s mind, cheating was cheating. He wasn’t about to take responsibility for something that wasn’t his fault.
Natalie stared straight ahead, watching the bumper of the car in front of them. For the past thirty minutes, the ride had been quiet, the conversation stilted.
Why did Zack Ryder have to remind her of David? They didn’t look anything alike, but the deputy marshal was big and tough and brimming with power. He possessed a domineering presence, just like David. The man she’d loved. The man who’d destroyed her.
She shifted in her seat, then turned to study Zack’s profile. His neatly trimmed hair was a deep, dark shade of brown, and his temples and sideburns bore faint threads of gray. He was handsome, in a hard, imposing sort of way. She knew WITSEC inspectors were highly trained security specialists, but Zack made her nervous. Then again, this whole experience made her nervous.
The trial was still a ways off, but the Marshal Service had promised to provide around-the-clock protection when she returned to L.A. to testify. Of course, this was different. Zack wouldn’t be with her twenty-four hours a day. Natalie wasn’t in a “danger area.” She was on highway 90, heading for Coeur d’Alene.
WITSEC had gone to great lengths to establish her new identity, to alter her appearance, to help Nancy Perris disappear. They’d kept her in a secure location until they felt it was safe to put her on a plane and send her to Idaho. To meet Zack Ryder.
He glanced over at her and for one pulse-jarring second, she froze. When he turned back to the road, she let out the breath she’d been holding.
In spite of the help she’d been getting from the Marshal Service, Natalie wasn’t comfortable around lawmen. The good-cop bad-cop thing set her on edge. She could never tell who was who.
“We’re almost there,” Zack said.
“We are?” She opened her purse, prepared to reapply her lipstick, then realized what she was doing. Fumbling with her bag, she cursed her stupidity. David had encouraged her to primp, to make sure she looked perfect every time she appeared in public. It was a habit she couldn’t seem to break. Her fingers itched to secure her compact, but she closed her purse instead. She wasn’t about to flip open her mirror and gloss up her lips in front of Zack.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
Still stressing over her compact, she looked up. “What?”
“Do you want to eat?”
She shook her head. Food was the furthest thing from her mind.
He gave her a quick study. “I’ll bet you refused the meal on your plane, too.”
Natalie didn’t respond. She’d been told that her field inspector would play a definitive role in her relocation, that his commitment to her would be on a long-term basis. Yet she couldn’t imagine sharing her emotions with this man. She wasn’t about to admit that she’d awakened this morning, fresh from a nightmare and battling a stomachache.
He exited the highway and headed into town. Curious, she peered out the window. The sidewalks of Coeur d’Alene were busy, the shops quaint and inviting. She liked the idea of living in a resort community, but her quest for independence wasn’t nearly as liberating as she’d hoped it would be. The newness made her feel like a knobby-kneed kid on the first day of school.
As Zack turned onto another street and pulled into a parking lot, she noticed the sandwich shop. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Getting us some lunch.”
