love me like you loved him? Can you?”
She released a deep breath in an audible rush. Her heart reached out to him, revealing the many facets of her affection and adoration, the feelings she had for Max so different from what she’d felt for Darius, but just as powerful, and growing every day. She was beginning to see how much of herself she’d kept away from Darius, and how much of herself she’d already shared with Max-the man who’d shown her how to embrace her nature and revel in it. Safe in his embrace.
“Yes, Max,” she promised. “So much.”
His power swelled in response to her passion, flowing into her, and she enhanced it. The soul-deep thrumming that coursed through them was almost overwhelming. They would have to train, relearn everything they knew, find a way to control it. Together.
The task ahead wouldn’t be easy…
Victoria offered her mouth to him and he took it, his chest rumbling with laughter as her lips curved against his in a catlike smile.
SYLVIA DAY is the multi-published author of erotic romantic fiction set in most sub-genres. A wife and mother of two, she is a former Russian linguist for the U.S. Army Military Intelligence. Her award- winning books have been called “wonderful and passionate” by
Quick Silver by Vivi Anna
One
After adjusting the miniature microphone attached to her ear down toward her mouth, she pushed the red connect button on the dashboard. “Yes.”
“I have a package for delivery.” The feminine voice was commanding and cold. Sangria noted that the caller was certainly no underling but most likely the main contact herself. This was indeed an important call.
She was used to dealing with intermediaries when it came to pickup and delivery. Usually the cargo that she transported around the country was illegal in some manner. She didn’t know that for sure, and she didn’t ask. Her discretion was the reason she was the number one Conveyor in the New States of America.
“Size?” she asked.
“A metal case. Six feet by three feet by four.”
Sangria sketched out the measurements on a pad of paper she had lying on the passenger seat. She had to make sure it would fit into the false bottom in the back of her Hummer. “Weight?”
“About two hundred and fifty pounds.”
She scribbled that down. “Explosive or toxic?”
“Neither.”
Sangria breathed a sigh of relief. She hated those jobs and was planning to avoid taking on any more. About a year ago, she transported a toxic case that was supposedly airtight and safe. When she arrived at the designated address, she was whisked inside a large warehouse by two men in white suits and facemasks and put into a detox station.
There she spent the next two hours naked, under scalding hot water, while two other men scrubbed her body with hard bristled brushes. She had been sore and raw for weeks afterward. However, she had a sneaking suspicion that whatever they were trying to get off her skin made its way inside anyway. She’d been feeling weird lately.
“Pickup and delivery addresses?”
“Pick up at the corner of Rochester and Selby; deliver to 1020 East Bonanza Road, Las Vegas.”
Sangria punched the addresses into her GPS system mounted on the dashboard. Instantly she had the distance calculated and the time estimation of how long it would take her to go from one place to the other if the traffic was flowing and she drove the posted speed limit.
“An approximate driving time of four hours and ten minutes. I can pick up the package early in the a.m.”
“Now,” the woman demanded. “I need you to pick it up now.”
Sangria didn’t like the way this conversation was going. Something about the woman’s voice bothered her. Too icy, too controlled. A woman without emotions was a very dangerous person.
“That will cost you-”
“Two million.”
Fingers poised over the GPS system, Sangria froze. That was more money than she hoped to make in the next two years. Her usual transporting fee was twenty thousand. She made a comfortable living on that, with a job or two a month. With two million from one delivery, she could actually retire from the job and settle down in a Caribbean country like the one she always dreamed of. But there had to be a catch.
“Excuse me?” Sangria choked.
“I will pay you two million dollars to come now, tonight, to pick up my package and deliver it to Vegas.”
“My usual fee is twen-”
“I know what you usually get paid, Ms. Silver,” the woman interrupted.
Sangria swallowed hard. The woman knew her name. She went to great pains to be anonymous. Her vehicle was registered to a company with three bogus owners who didn’t exist. Her modest house was leased under a false identity that Sangria had created online, complete with birth certificate and social security number. Being an orphan and having run away from every foster home she’d been sent to, she had no family to speak of. And she had no friends and no regular lover. Sure, she had a couple of acquaintances who owed her favors, but it was strictly business not personal.
How did this woman know who she was?
Before she could speak, the woman continued as if reading Sangria’s thoughts. “Yes, I know who you are. I wouldn’t be in
“What do you want?” A sense of dread started to wash over Sangria. She was never any good at dealing with glitches in her system. Her attention to detail and organization made her feel safe, secure. Now, she felt anything but.
“Your silence.”
“If you’ve called me then you must be aware of my reputation for discretion.”
“I am quite aware,” she stated icily. “But I am not some drug dealer moving H across state lines, or an arms dealer moving guns from New Mexico to Texas. I am so much more dangerous than that, Sangria.”
All the air left her lungs, and she had to close her eyes to stop from panicking. The woman knew about Sangria’s other conveying jobs. How was that possible? Unless she had been watched for the past year? But why?
Sangria’s hands were trembling, and she had to squeeze them together to stop from shaking. She couldn’t take
