My heart pounded as a familiar figure stepped out.
Declan.
His eyes were sparkling with mischief and something darker.
“Well now, look what the wind blew in,” he drawled, leaning against the RV, projecting a casual ease.
“Didn’t expect to see you out here,” I replied, nudging Ginny forward.
His sapphire gaze glinted in the rising sun. “Just looking for some peace, Wildflower.”
I gave him a skeptical look at the evasive response and the tenderness of his nickname for me. “The Dust Devils too much for you?”
His laugh was low and silky, a sound that curled around me, pulling me in. “Oh, they have their moments.”
The tension between us sparked and sizzled, a connection I should have resisted but couldn’t. Our banter continued, a verbal sparring match as wicked as it was compelling.
I scoffed, my grip on the reins tightening. “Moments? Seems like terrorizing the locals is more their speed. Though I haven’t decided if you’re as awful as the rest of them.”
Declan’s expression grew more smug, his eyes burning with an intense glimmer. “To be honest, I’m just as bad, if not worse.”
I narrowed my eyes, unyielding in my gaze. “Well, saving me last night puts you a notch above those devils, I suppose.”
“Maybe I had ulterior motives,” he replied, his voice husky and alluring.
I stepped off my horse, my heart pounding as I closed the distance between us. “And what motives would those be?”
He leaned in, his breath grazing against my ear. “You were a beautiful damsel in distress. Perhaps I was hoping for a more . . . intimate way of showing your gratitude.”
My lips curled into a sly smile, the tension between us growing. “So, you think a kiss would be appropriate?”
He smirked, his eyes tracing my lips. “A kiss, or something even more daring. The choice is yours.”
A flicker of uncertainty mixed with undeniable attraction filled me as I took a step closer to him, our bodies almost touching. “And what if I choose the more daring option?”
Declan’s voice dropped to a low, seductive tone, his gaze never leaving mine. “Choose it and find out.”
I cleared my throat and shook my head. “Well, aren’t you a flirt?” I laughed, feeling nervous. It was strange how easily he got my heart racing, my legs trembling.
“No, Wildflower. I’m definitely not a flirt. I’m a man of promise.”
I swallowed nervously, and he took a step closer.
Declan closed the distance between us, his presence enveloping me in a heady mix of need and temptation. His voice was a velvety whisper, laced with a hint of dominance.
“Choose the daring option, Wildflower,” he murmured, his gaze locked onto mine.
I couldn’t help but feel a delicious sense of anticipation, a curiosity mingled with the nerves that flared within me. His confidence was both captivating and intimidating.
I leaned back slightly, my voice betraying a hint of nervousness. “And what exactly does this daring option entail?”
Declan’s eyes sparkled with wicked delight. “It’s a dance on the razor’s edge.”
My breath caught in my throat as his words painted vivid images in my mind. The charm of the unknown tugged at me, and yet, a part of me hesitated. “Maybe take me to dinner first,” I teased.
His response was instant. “Are you free tonight?”
Before I could respond, the RV’s door creaked open, revealing a woman in a black lace bra, her blonde curls tumbling around her shoulders. Jealousy flared within me, a green-eyed monster that surprised me. I barely knew this man and we shared nothing but harmless flirting.
It still stung, though.
She had bruises in the shape of lips along her neck. Her casual intimacy with Declan made it clear he was taking plenty of women to dance on the razor’s edge.
“I think I better go,” I murmured, my pulse loud in my ears.
But Declan was quick to make introductions, his tone full of sly amusement, “Tara, meet my wildflower. Wildflower, this is Tara.”
Tara’s eyes flickered between us as she arched her brow, “Hello, Wildflower.”
Flustered and seething with a strange mix of envy and anger, I managed a curt nod before mounting Ginny and steering her back down the trail. I shouldn’t be flirting with a Dust Devils member, much less harboring feelings of jealousy. But as I rode off, a bitter truth settled within me: Declan was an enigma I couldn’t simply ignore.
DECLAN
I stormed into their hovel of a hideout, fury bubbling up from my gut. The Dust Devils, a rotten group of clumsy criminals, had recruited me for a job. And their leader, Hank, seemed hell-bent on making my fucking life miserable.
First, he wanted to test me by making me ride a bull. It was some shitty hazing ritual they all enjoyed. I’d done it countless times before, and the back of a bucking bull lost its rush years ago, yet I resented Hank’s smug assumption that it would be a challenge for me.
Now, apparently, Hank had another task lined up.
The stench of inevitable conflict filled my nostrils, bringing a wolfish grin to my face. I was ready for a damned good fight.
Pissed off and ready to raise hell, I was practically begging for a fight. The Dust Devils in the compound gave me a wide berth, their nerves fraying as I strutted past.
My every move screamed dominance, my glare sharp enough to drill holes.
I made my way confidently toward Hank’s private quarters, immediately coming face-to-face with a duo of burly bodyguards. Their icy glares and clenched fists were clearly designed to intimidate, but I felt anything but fear. Instead, a rush of adrenaline mixed with sheer bravado coursed through me. My grin was rapacious.
Breaking the silence, my voice held a growl of impatience. “Where’s Hank?” The guards visibly tensed at my confrontational tone, fully aware of the whirlwind I could cause. My overall demeanor, coupled with a gaze as cold as winter itself, was a clear warning sign.
“He’s inside. Been waiting for you,” one of the guards managed to say, barely concealing the nervousness in his voice. I simply nodded, ready to face whatever Hank had in store for me.
As I pushed my way through the grand doors into Hank’s private den, my heart pounded a fierce rhythm. There he was, the man himself, reclining on his worn seat of power. He looked like the devil bathed in a haze of smoke.
His smirk broadened into a grin as he spoke. “A toast to your initiation,” he chuckled, his voice as rough as gravel. “You handled that bull like a seasoned cowboy.” Hank theatrically blew a kiss toward me, his predatory gaze challenging me to look away. The room was alive with a palpable tension.
I could take him out, along with everyone else in this damned place.
But I had a part to play.
“Been riding since I was a boy,” I replied, layering my words with an enticing blend of venom and charm.
“Good,” responded Hank, his self-satisfied grin transitioning into something genuine. “Means you can handle yourself in a fight. Just the kind of enforcer I need right now.” He settled back into his chair, deeply inhaling from his cigar, all the while maintaining eye contact.
“I’m not an enforcer. I’m a hired killer. My contract with you has an end date.”