Prey: A Novel

by Linda Howard

  Dare grinned like a jackass every time he looked at the ring on his finger, or the matching one on her hand. They were married. Six months ago he couldn’t get her to even go on a date with him, or look at him without pure fire shooting out of her dark eyes, and now here they were: married.

  From now on she was going to do all the paperwork. And that wasn’t anywhere near the best benefit he was getting out of this deal.

  There was music, food, and dancing. Dare wasn’t much of a dancer, but he could pull off a slow dance with his new wife. He’d made arrangements with a neighbor to look after their horses while he took her on a Caribbean cruise, where he planned to do nothing except eat and have the occasional adult beverage, lie around, and have sex. He still had some fantasies that hadn’t been fulfilled. Wasn’t that what honeymoons were for?

  When the time came to cut the cake, he wondered if Angie was having flashbacks. She damn well better not be. On their wedding day she shouldn’t be thinking about any other man but him.

  And she didn’t seem to be; her face was glowing, her eyes sparkling, as they stood at the table where the big-ass cake—four tiers tall, with cream and white roses all along the sides and a traditional bride and groom on top—sat. Dare looked down at her and she looked up at him, her face both relaxed and radiant. There were no shadows at all in her expression, no hesitation or doubt or even what looked like a distant memory showing. That other wedding didn’t exist for her, not now.

  All the guests had gathered around to watch, and he wondered for a split second if any of them had been at Angie’s other wedding and had witnessed her embarrassment. Yeah, sure, her friends from Billings had, but they didn’t seem to be thinking about that, either.

  This was the only wedding that mattered.

  She hadn’t asked him not to shove cake in her face, but she hadn’t had to. He knew what she wanted. More important, he knew what she didn’t want. Even though she hadn’t wasted her time hiring someone else to fix her hair and do her makeup—thank goodness because she looked damn good just as she was—he knew better.

  He wasn’t a complete idiot.

  They cut the cake together, his hand over hers. Then he dipped his finger into the fancy icing and lifted it to her lips, offering it to her. She smiled, her expression luminous, as she took the tip of his finger into her mouth and quickly licked the icing off, with her tongue dancing around his fingertip and her lips applying gentle suction.

  His eyes almost rolled back in his head. Fuck. Shit. Yeah, she could still do that to him, blow the top of his head off with pleasure. His entire body twitched with anticipation; he enjoyed the anticipation, but he’d rather save the twitching for when they were alone.

  Then she broke off a very small piece of the slice of cake they’d carved together, and popped it into his mouth. It was all very neat, very dignified. Dare made a rough sound in his throat. Angie Callahan could feed him any time.

  Angie Callahan. Damn, that sounded good.

  He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “You look good enough to eat. Later.”

  “Back at you,” she said smiling, and damn if he didn’t start twitching again.

  About the Author

  LINDA HOWARD is the award-winning author of many New York Times bestsellers, including Veil of Night, Ice, Burn, Death Angel, Up Close and Dangerous, and Drop Dead Gorgeous. She also writes a paranormal romance series with Linda Jones. They have recently published Blood Born. She lives in Alabama with her husband and a golden retriever.