Touch the Wind - Softcover

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Janet Dailey (1944–2013) published her first book in 1976. During her lifetime, she wrote more than 100 novels and became one of the top-selling female authors in the world, with 300 million copies of her books sold in nineteen languages in ninety-eight countries. She is known for her strong, decisive characters, her extraordinary ability to recreate a time and a place, and her unerring courage to confront important, controversial issues in her stories. You can learn more about Janet at JanetDailey.com.

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Janet Dailey, the New York Times bestselling author who has touched the hearts of millions, shines in this unforgettable novel. Sweeping from the wealth and glamour of a modern Texas city to the rugged majesty of Mexico's High Sierras, this is a magnificent tale of desire and destiny from one of the world's most beloved storytellers.

All her life, beautiful Sheila got what she wanted. Now she yearned for the raw passion of a man beyond her reach, a violent, mysterious outlaw whose followers adored him. A lion of a man who held her for ransom -- a man who would trade her for a fortune in gold. But Sheila wanted only him -- with all the reckless longing of her body and soul.

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Chapter 1

A trio of gold bracelets jingled as Sheila Rogers closed the door of her blue Thunderbird. She turned toward the hotel where Brad worked, sleek, tawny hair swinging freely near her shoulders.

There wasn't a whisper of a breeze. Beyond the towering hotel structure, the waters of the dammed Colorado River were mirror-smooth. On its downward path, a Texas sun was leaving a long, yellow trail across the surface. The February afternoon air was cool against Sheila's cheek.

Her amber gaze flicked to her wristwatch as she started toward the hotel entrance. It was nearly five o'clock. She had cut it close again. Her shoulders lifted in a typical I-don't-care shrug that revealed she was accustomed to having people wait for her. It wasn't a conscious gesture.

Sheila didn't admit to being spoiled, although she would concede that, as an only child, she had been indulged by a pair of loving parents.

But not by Brad. She couldn't wrap him around her finger as she had the other men she dated. Perhaps that was one of many reasons why she was so fascinated by him. Now Brad would be angry with her for being late, but Sheila was confident she could make him forget his displeasure.

At the thought, a faint smile curved her sensuous lips, glossed a dusty-rose shade. Combined with the promising sparkle of her gold-flecked eyes, the movement gave a look of secretive pleasure to her expression, tantalizingly mysterious to a casual onlooker.

Sheila had nearly reached the entrance door when she saw Brad standing to the side of the building with another male member of the hotel staff. The brown light of his eyes was roughly accusing as he met her gaze. He had to have seen her walking from the parking lot to the entrance, yet he hadn't called out to her. He would have let her waste precious minutes looking for him inside to punish Sheila for her tardiness.

Poised near the door, Sheila gazed at him, her breath caught in her throat. Blonde hair fell with masculine carelessness across his tanned forehead. Blatant virility was stamped in the handsome lines of his face, a suggestion of arrogance in the set of his jaw. Tall, well muscled, his sun-god looks would have set any girl's heart beating faster. The hotel uniform of a camel-tan blazer over a white pullover with dark slacks accented his male physique.

Each time Sheila saw him, her reaction was the same. First there was a vague sense of surprise that she could have forgotten how stunningly handsome he was, followed by a sense of guilt that she had kept him waiting, however unintentionally.

True, her steps were unhurried, graceful, almost leisurely strides carrying her forward. Her lips parted into a smile, beguiling and faintly apologetic. The bracelets jingled again as Sheila tucked golden-toast hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry I'm late, honey." Her voice was low and warm, designed to soothe his irritation.

Brad Townsend didn't return the smile. He nodded briefly to his co-worker and took Sheila's hand in a finger-crushing grip. She breathed in sharply at the pain as he pulled her after him to the side of the building.

"Brad, you're hurting my hand," Sheila protested when they stopped, uncertain if he was aware of his own strength.

He released her numbed fingers immediately, his hands grasping her shoulders as he pulled her roughly against him.

"I don't like being kept waiting," Brad growled beneath his breath, its warmth moving hotly over her lips a split second before his mouth smothered them.

The kiss was a combination of bruising punishment and mastery. Sheila struggled against his attempted domination even as she thrilled to his possession. His arms encircled her to crush the minor rebellion, the heat radiating from his embrace. Conquered, Sheila tipped back her head to let his hard mouth explore the sensitive cord of her neck and the hollow of her throat.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her eyes closed as a fiery weakness spread through her limbs. "I didn't mean to be late."

"That's what you always say," he muttered, nipping an ear lobe.

Her fingers slid inside the unbuttoned blazer to curve her arms around him, feeling the burning warmth of his body and the flexing muscles in his shoulders and back. His roving hands were moving over her waist and hips to mold her closer to him.

The musky scent clinging to his smoothly shaven jaw was intoxicating. Sheila breathed it in deeply as she exclaimed, "I was asked to stay for a few minutes after my last class, and the time just slipped away from me."

He lifted his head. "Which professor was it this time? Not that it matters. You are every professor's pet," Brad said with a slight curl to his lips.

"It was Benton." Sheila ignored the faint jeer. "He had some suggestions to make on the outline I had submitted for this semester's theme."

"And you kept me waiting while you talked to that dried-up old prune," he accused.

"I said I was sorry."

"Maybe I should find out how truly repentant you are." Brad said it lightly, the dark light of desire in his brown eyes.

With a breathless laugh, she withdrew her arms from around him, letting her hands rest on his chest to wedge a slight space between them. She felt the strong beat of his heart beneath her fingers.

"But you have to be on duty in just a few minutes," Sheila pointed out, partially aware that she hadn't exactly told him "no."

"Yes," Brad agreed, lowering his head to let his mouth brush the sensual curve of her lips, "and making love to you isn't something I would want to hurry."

An inner heat warmed her...