The Wrong Wife

The Wrong Wife
Eileen Wilks

HE WOKE UP NAKED, IN BED WITH HIS BEST FRIEND'S SISTER…One minute Gideon Wilde was lamenting his recent broken engagement. The next, he was saying "I do" - only, he'd married the wrong wife! Always in control, Gideon had no room in his life for whirlwind Cassie. Yet having her in his bed was another matter… .AND THEY WERE MARRIED!Cassie had been in love with Gideon for years. And now that they were "accidentally" married, she was determined to make him finally notice her. It wasn't long before their marriage in name only quickly turned into a passionate affair. Now all Cassie had to do was turn his "I want you" into "I love you."

“Be My Bride. Live With Me. Let Me...Take Care Of You.” (#u713bec31-9dba-5b0d-8cb5-dddba537f28a)Letter to Reader (#u956a6927-9f00-5c4e-9bed-2507a078bf04)Title Page (#u4e8a58cd-8579-5068-9c21-a8911a2477b5)About the Author (#uee3a5020-a958-51a9-b453-b366ebb9a9f5)Dedication (#u09c8c270-45fc-5467-8a91-7343586a8b22)Chapter One (#u0bdb3b02-de0a-5816-971e-49dd76bbc010)Chapter Two (#u13cfe55b-8aa4-5f1e-8e59-7fe6b235a0de)Chapter Three (#u090f5953-ceb0-51f9-825c-5af40bd46d99)Chapter Four (#u0a16d9a5-457a-5491-8cdd-237f63416a62)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

“Be My Bride. Live With Me. Let Me...Take Care Of You.”

“You just don’t want to admit you made a mistake,” Cassie said, her voice husky. “You think because you’re married, however...accidental that marriage was, you should stay married. Stubborn.”

“Consistent,” Gideon corrected.

“But you don’t want to be married to me.”

“Don’t I?” When his fingertips made a little circle on her arm, his knuckles grazed the side of her breast.

Oh my. “Gideon? I have to know what you want from this marriage.” Sex? she thought wildly. Was sex enough to begin a marriage with? Could she accept it if that was an he wanted from her?

Could she refuse?

Dear Reader,

A sexy fire fighter, a crazy cat and a dynamite heroine—that’s what you’ll find in Lucy and the Loner, Elizabeth Bevarly’s wonderful MAN OF THE MONTH. It’s the next in her installment of THE FAMILY McCORMICK series, and it’s also a MAN OF THE MONTH book you’ll never forget—warm, humorous and very sexy!

A story from Lass Small is always a delight, and Chancy’s Cowboy is Lass at her most marvelous. Don’t miss out as Chancy decides to take some lessons in love from a handsome hunk of a cowboy!

Eileen Wilks’s latest, The Wrong Wife, is chock-full with the sizzling tension and compelling reading that you’ve come to expect from this rising Desire star. And so many of you know and love Barbara McCauley that she needs no introduction, but this month’s The Nanny and the Reluctant Rancher is sure to both please her current fans...and win her new readers!

Suzannah Davis is another new author that we’re excited about, and Dr. Holt and the Texan may just be her best book to date! And the month is completed with a delightful romp from Susan Carroll, Parker and the Gypsy.

There’s something for everyone. So come and relish the romantic variety you’ve come to expect from Silhouette Desire!

Lucia Macro

And the Editors at Silhouette Desire

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service .

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609. Fort Brie, Ont. L2A 5X3

The Wrong Wife

Eileen Wilks

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

EILEEN WILKS

is a fifth-generation Texan. Her great-great-grandmother came to Texas in a covered wagon shortly after the end of the Civil War—excuse us, the War Between the States. But she’s not a full-blooded Texan. Right after another war, her Texan father fell for a Yankee woman. This obviously mismatched pair proceeded to travel to nine cities in three countries in the first twenty years of their marriage, raising two kids and innumerable dogs and cats along the way. For the next twenty years they stayed put, back home in Texas again—and still together.

Eileen figures her professional career matches her nomadic upbringing, since she tried everything from drafting to a brief stint as a ranch hand—raising two children and any number of cats and dogs along the way. Not until she started writing did she “stay put,” because that’s when she knew she’d come home.

This one is for my mother,

wherever she is on her journey

One

There was a head on the pillow next to hers.

Cassandra O’Grady blinked sleepily at the back of a man’s head so close to her own. She wasn’t alarmed by the sight. Cassie never felt much of anything except reluctance when a new day first forced itself on her. If she’d been capable of thinking yet, though, she might have been amazed at how little she grudged opening her eyes this morning.

She knew that head. But whose leg was cuddled so cozily between hers?

That question had an important ring to it. Cassie’s three functioning brain cells—the ones left on, like a night-light, to lead her back to wakefulness—stirred with feeble interest. She blinked and managed to frown.

It was a nice head. Not too round or square or oblong. Just right. The hair covering it in back, her present viewing angle, was nice, too—soft and thick. In the early-morning light, with the rest of the world’s colors just starting to wake, that hair held on to the darkness of midnight. Cassie’s frown softened into a smile.

Morning, afternoon or night, Gideon’s hair was beautiful.

Gideon?

Cassie actually felt her heart start. It made a sudden jump and then began to thump so obviously against the wall of her chest, that she understood that the ignition had just been turned on and the accelerator pressed.

Gideon. Gideon Wilde. That was Gideon’s head lying on a pillow eight inches from her own.

Oh, yes, she knew the shape of his head, the darkness of his hair and the way his short, no-nonsense haircut left the nape of his neck bare. And those were his wide shoulders flowing into the strong lines of his back, lines she’d sketched only from memory because she couldn’t let him know his body fascinated her. That was Gideon’s back, because Gideon was lying on his stomach beside her in this large, strange bed, stretched out like the big cat she’d often thought he resembled. And though her line of sight didn’t go any farther, like beneath the sheet, logic suggested that the leg pressed so intimately between hers belonged to Gideon, too. Gideon’s strong, hairy, muscular thigh pressed right up against—

Embarrassment was one type of heat that flooded Cassie as she realized what she wasn’t wearing. The same thing he wasn’t wearing. Memory rushed in, along with another sort of heat—memories of yesterday...and last night.

She remembered taking Gideon’s phone call yesterday at her brother’s office. She’d gone with Ryan to meet Gideon at the Blue Parrot Lounge. She remembered the hours at the Blue Parrot and the trip to the airport, followed by the garish lights of the Las Vegas strip...and last night. Oh, yes, she did remember last night.

Beyond the masculine shoulders that partially blocked her view, Cassie could see the pale, gilded colors of the luxury suite, colors that made her think of Cinderella’s coach. At the foot of the bed was a Disney version of a pirate’s foot locker, painted a soft, dreamy color. Titanium white, she thought, with just enough Hansa yellow to turn milk to cream. Her bouquet rested there. The orchids were a richer cream than the chest they lay upon, and the roses were a paler blush than the color that swept over her as she remembered.

Oh, yes, this was a morning like none before in her life. Cassie smiled, aching with happiness, and started to cuddle closer to the big man in bed with her.

Her movement made him stir. A deep, low, dying sort of groan rumbled up from his chest. He rolled away from her, onto his back, throwing out a heavy arm that glanced off Cassie’s chin.

“Ow!”

His eyes jerked open. They immediately squeezed closed again. He made a soft, piteous sound.

She knew Gideon had put away a lot of alcohol yesterday, both before he called her brother and later. She knew Gideon seldom drank more than a single highball and that he probably felt lousy. But he still ought to be more careful what he did with his arms. Cassie frowned, rubbed her chin and scooted back another couple inches.

His eyes opened again. Slowly his head turned on the pillow. From a distance of a foot and a half she looked at Gideon’s craggy face, stared right into his unfocused eyes. He looked awful. Well, Gideon never looked really awful, but he did make her think of the Marlboro Man coming off a binge, with his eyes dark as sin and the most beautiful mouth she’d ever seen on a man. Gideon usually managed to present himself to the world as cool, civilized and in charge. The polished veneer helped him deal with the money people who invested in the oil and gas deals he put together.