Veil of Night Read Online Free PDF Page A

couldn’t remember when. The fact that what she felt was so strong both compelled and repelled. Part of her was excited, wanted to respond, wanted to see where this would take her; another part urged her to run like hell. When she thought of what she wanted from a relationship, what came to mind was comfort and compatibility, a sense of ease, of fitting together—along with physical attraction, of course. If the physical attraction was so strong that it clouded her mind, that couldn’t be good.
    “That’s too bad.”
    His comment so neatly dovetailed with what she’d been thinking that it took her a moment to reconnect to the conversation. “But at least I didn’t smash into anyone else this afternoon.”
    “That’s a plus. Another one, and I’d have to cite you for a moving violation.” The dryness of his tone made her smile again, even while she was having the usual arguments with herself. She didn’t know him. Aside from the fact that physically he really did it for her—like she was going to tell him that—they had nothing to talk about. Before you knew it, they’d be discussing the weather, or he’d ask for her astrological sign. She really didn’t want to do that two-step, but there was something about him … and she wasn’t ready to let him go. Not yet.
    “Please, have a seat,” she said, motioning to the empty chair at her table.
    He sat, placed his drink on the table with a solid thunk that almost seemed as if he was staking a claim to the spot, and looked her in the eye. His face was no longer shadowed, as it had been when he’d been standing. Nice jaw, a mostly straight nose, dark level brows, and a penetrating intentness to his gaze. Dark hair, and she thought his eyes were probably hazel, though in the dim bar she couldn’t really tell. But most important of all, this man was confident. He was accustomed to getting his way, which could be off-putting, but somehow he projected those qualities without coming off as arrogant. She suddenly had the thought that his good manners were kind of a camouflage, hiding a dangerousness hinted at by the piercing intensity of his eyes.
    “Are you waiting for someone?” he asked, double-checking even though he was already seated.
    “No.”
    “Good.” Settling more comfortably into his chair, he extended his hand. “I’m Eric Wilder.”
    Amused, she started grinning even before she placed her hand in his. His big, warm fingers wrapped around hers and she willed herself not to get totally, completely, sucked in by the feel, even though it was a sensation that would be very easy to get lost in. “Wilder?”
    “It’s just a name, not a comment on my personality or lifestyle.”
    “Pleased to meet you, Eric Wilder,” she said. “I’m Jaclyn Wilde. It’s just a name, not a comment on my personality or lifestyle.” He’d turned his hand just a little, the subtle movement changing their grip from that of a handshake to something more … intimate. Her heartbeat jacked up, and she fought the sudden urge to lick her lips.
    He laughed, his eyes crinkling and his head tipping back a little, revealing a strong, tanned throat. “For real?”
    “For real.”
    “It really is a small world, isn’t it?” He let go of her hand, and as much as she hated to release that warmth and strength, she couldn’t very well grab his hand and hold on. Then he deliberately caught her left hand and lifted it, checking out her ring finger. She lifted her brows, then coolly gave him back as good as she got, pointedly checking out his left hand, too. Not that the absence of a wedding ring was a sure sign that a person was single, but it made for a safer bet.
    He leaned back, lifting his beer for a sip. “So, Jaclyn Wilde, why did you have a bad afternoon?”
    She sighed and reached for her margarita, mirroring his actions. He was probably sipping for pleasure, though, while the mere thought of Carrie Edwards made her need more liquid fortification. “I’m a