Sweet Dreams Boxed Set (109 page)

“I thought she didn’t want you so far away?”

“She claims they’ll move with me.”

“And your sister?”

She covered a yawn. “She’d probably stay. She likes Boston. She’s got a great job running a major hospital, so she makes good money, and she loves her work.”

“You and your sister are definitely high achievers. So...are you tempted by what your mother suggests?”

“I was for a second,” she admitted. “It just sounds so...safe.”

“You’d give up Hanover House?”

She snuggled lower in the bed. “No. You’re right—I couldn’t. It’s hard to explain, but...I have to do what I’m doing even if my folks don’t like it.” She gripped the phone tighter. “Even if
you
don’t like it. Because nothing’s really changed. I won’t let Jasper or anyone else drive me into a corner. Not when I can use the knowledge I’ve gained, and what I might learn in the future, to fight back, to make a difference.”

“It’s what’s bringing you here, so I’m not complaining,” he said.

She smiled at his response. “Would you like to know how I hung on mentally? How I got through it?”

“Of course.”

She rolled onto her side and spoke more softly. “By thinking of you. I wanted to live so that I could see you again.”

“I like that,” he said. “But if that’s the case, why can’t I talk you into coming tomorrow?”

She laughed. “Because I have too much to do here! I’ll come as soon as I can.” There was a noise at the door as her parents and sister rushed in, carrying flowers and balloons and candy.

“Evelyn!” her mother cried.

“Amarok, my family’s here,” she said into the phone. “And I’m exhausted—and a little groggy from the relaxers they’ve given me. Can I call you tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

“Goodnight.”

“I can’t wait for you to return,” he said.

Evelyn thought of those words an hour later, after her family had left. That was the last thing to go through her mind before she fell asleep, and the first thing when she woke up. As a matter of fact, she was still thinking about Amarok mid-morning, when a courier carried in a dozen long-stem red roses.

The card read: “I’ve never had a better kiss. Amarok.”

Epilogue

Two weeks later, Evelyn was packing her suitcase for her big move—she flew out the next morning—when her father came in with her mail. She’d had what was going to her post office box forwarded to a different post office entirely—and a box in his name—and asked him to pick it up for her, since she wouldn’t go anywhere she’d ever been before.

“It looks like you’ll be up late, if you plan to read through all of this,” he said, dropping a big stack on the bed.

Evelyn sat down to sort through it. She needed the break.

Most were letters of support from other victims. A lot of those letters contained checks from people wanting to contribute to her research. Evelyn was always touched by the fact that so many people were willing to get behind a good cause—and was glad that at least a portion of the population understood the need for what she was doing.

But amongst all the letters and checks, bills and junk mail, she found a postcard of San Quentin State Prison and knew, even before she turned it over, that it was from Hugo Evanski.

Dear Dr. Talbot
,

I was saddened to hear of your recent and very unfortunate experience with Jasper Moore. How interesting that he has surfaced after so long. You must be shocked—or maybe not. You, of all people, must understand just how determined a killer can be.

I can’t help but admire his tenacity. But if I admire his tenacity, I also have to admire yours. Kudos on saving your own life. You’re obviously very spirited—a worthy opponent.

I look forward to getting to know you better in Hilltop.

Yours truly—Hugo Evanski

HANOVER HOUSE is the digital prequel to Brenda's new suspense series, which will be released from St. Martin's Press in 2016. You can join Evelyn Talbot and Sergeant Amarok as Hanover House opens its doors in Book #1, WHITEOUT. In the following excerpt, you will meet Anthony Garza, one of its chilling new psychopaths:

They’d had to sedate him. That was what the marshals told Evelyn. They’d said he was so difficult and dangerous, to himself and others, that the only way to get Anthony Garza safely from one place to another was to medicate him. A registered nurse at ADX Florence in Colorado where he’d been incarcerated before had administered 300 milligrams of Ryzolt four hours ago. There was a note of it on his chart.

But the tranquilizer had worn off by the time he arrived at HH. According to the correctional officers in receiving he’d come in slightly agitated and, despite his chains and cuffs, had quickly grown violent, going so far as to head-butt an officer. At that point, someone had sounded the alarm while others wrestled him to the ground and replaced his cuffs with a straightjacket, further restricting his range of motion. Now he had four officers flanking him instead of two. Although they stood with him in the holding cell across from her, even had to support him so he wouldn’t trip on his ankle chains, he wouldn’t settle down. He was raving like a lunatic, threatening to dismember anyone he came into contact with.

“I won’t stay in this Godforsaken place!” he cried. “You’ll all be fucked if you make me. Do you hear?”

“Should we take him to his cell?” It was Officer Whitcomb who asked. He obviously doubted she’d be able to get anything meaningful out of Garza when the man was in such a state, and she had to agree. She’d been about to suggest they take him away and give him a chance to cool off. But the second Mr. Garza realized she was on the other side of the glass, he fell silent and went still.

“Who are you?” His dark eyes shined with anger-induced madness as they riveted, hawk-like, on her.

Prepared for an ugly encounter, should it go that way, Evelyn fixed a placid expression on her face. She couldn’t, wouldn’t show this man how unsettled he made her. If he thought he was the first to use intimidation, he was sadly mistaken. Even the sudden reversal in his behavior came as no surprise. Sometimes the men incarcerated at HH reminded her of actors in a play with how quickly and easily they could slip in and out of whatever character suited them best.

“Ah, you’re coherent after all,” she said. “So what have you been doing, Mr. Garza? Putting us on notice that you’re no one to be messed with?”

He didn’t answer the question. “
Who are you
?”

She put on the glasses she used to alleviate eyestrain and jotted a note on his chart.
Low frustration tolerance. Possibly disorganized thinker and yet...seems more calculating than that. Aggressive when fearful or uncertain or presented with unfamiliar stimuli—

“Hey! I asked you a question!” He half-dragged the C.O.s along with him so he could shuffle up to the glass.

The guards started to yank him back, to show him that he’d better not get out of control again. No doubt they were angry about before. One of their fellow officers had been shuttled off to medical nursing a broken nose because of Garza hitting him with his head. But, lowering her clipboard, Evelyn motioned for them to leave him be. She was here to study, not punish. That distinction was important to her own humanity. “I’m your new doctor.”

“No, you’re my next victim,” he said. Then he made kissing noises and smiled, revealing the jagged, broken front teeth he’d gotten from gnawing at the cinderblock wall of his last cell.

About Brenda Novak

New York Times
&
USA Today
Bestselling Author Brenda Novak is the author of more than fifty books in a variety of genres, including contemporary romance, romantic suspense and historical romance. A four-time Rita nominee, she has won many awards, including the National Reader’s Choice, the Bookseller’s Best, the Book Buyer’s Best, the Daphne, and the Holt Medallion. When she's not writing, she's usually raising money for diabetes research (her youngest son has this disease). To date, she's raised $2.4 million and would love nothing more than to see a cure in her lifetime. For more about Brenda, please visit
www.brendanovak.com
.

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by Liliana Hart

Chapter One

I might not be the best expert on the subject, but in my opinion, marriage is pretty awesome.

Jack and I had spent the last three days soaking up the sun on a Caribbean Island the size of a table napkin. The population was small enough that we weren’t tripping over people on the beach, and our cabana was isolated from the main roads and all the other cabanas. Which was probably a good thing since we’d spent ninety percent of our time naked. It turns out married sex isn’t boring. Married sex is very, very good.

“We can put another tally mark on the wall,” I croaked out.

My heart pounded like a drum in my chest and a sheen of perspiration and salt water from the spray of the ocean coated my skin. I was sticky, hot, and probably getting a sunburn in places that were going to be really uncomfortable later on. I didn’t care one bit.

“No,” Jack said. His hand lay limp across my stomach, his tanned skin a blatant contrast to my own. “I don’t have the energy. Your tally mark idea is going to put me into an early grave. I need some rest and some food, woman. We’re on sex hiatus for at least an hour. ”

“Pussy,” I said, shaking my head. “I didn’t know marriage was going to make you so whiny.”

His fingers danced along my ribs and I laughed. “I beg your pardon? What did you call me?”

The problem with being married to my childhood friend was that he knew all my weaknesses, including the fact that I was ticklish on just about every space on my body.

“Nothing,” I snorted. “You must have misunderstood.”

We rolled from the large beach towels beneath us and sand went into a bunch of places sand had no business being. Palms swayed lazily overhead and the sky was cerulean and cloudless. Waves crashed to shore a few feet away, the sound hypnotic and soothing. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect day.

“Don’t think you’ll get another round out of me by wrestling and getting me all worked up. I’m on to you, Doctor Graves.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I bit his shoulder, laughing as I felt life return to certain parts of Jack’s body. “I’m just trying to use you as a sun shield. There are parts of my body that should never see the sun.”

“Baby, I hate to break this to you, but I’m not sure that any part of your body has ever seen the sun. I shouldn’t be able to lose you on a white sand beach.”

I laughed and hitched my leg around his hip. “Very funny. Besides, I’ve gotten a little color since we’ve been here.”

“Yes, now you’re white instead of clear.”

“Are you trying to piss me off as a way to get out of sex?”

“Never,” he said, grinning. 

Jack was one of those people who was a pleasure to look at. He stood a little over six feet and had the kind of body that showed discipline and training. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. Anywhere. He also had the kind of face that made women stop and stare, dimples that he always used to his advantage, and eyes that turned the color of dark chocolate when he was angry or aroused. He was one of the two at the moment, because they were almost black. Based on the fact that something hard was poking my hip, I was betting on the latter of the two.

His hair was dark and he always kept it buzzed close to the scalp. Mostly because when he let it grown long it had a tendency to curl. There were times when I had trouble focusing if Jack was in the room because I pretty much wanted to jump his bones every time he crossed in my general path. Fortunately, he was always very accommodating.

His body had scars—plenty of them—telling story after story of the life he’d led as a cop. And Jack wasn’t the type of man to sit comfortably behind a desk. He wanted to be in the action—leading the pack and taking the chances. Even now, as Sheriff of King George County, Virginia he made sure he knew what was going on in every department of the sheriff’s office. He wasn’t just a figurehead. 

“I mean it,” he whispered, slipping inside of me. “This is the last time.”

“Agreed. I’m already sick of you. Lets get a divorce.” And then my eyes rolled back in my head and I stopped thinking all together.

A half an hour later, Jack was spraying sunscreen across my shoulders and back while I dumped sand out of my bikini top. I managed to put on my bathing suit despite the fact that my legs weren’t quite working, and I tied a bright blue sarong around my waist. My body was satiated and relaxed, and all I wanted was to crawl into one of the hammocks outside of our cabana and sleep. I’d had precious little rest and relaxation over the past several years.