“You ever ride a bike before?”

Her pretty pink lips turned down. “You know, oddly enough, I have not.”

The way she talked, every once in a while, bespoke an Ivy League education and hard-won experience. Just who was Cee Cee? “What’s your last name, darlin’?”

“Jones.” She shivered in the night air and zipped up a designer leather jacket.

Daire would bet his last coin that his cousin, clothes aficionado Simone Brightston, would approve of the coat. “You’re a mystery, Cee Cee Jones.”

She stepped into him, bringing the scent of wild hyacinth. “I’m just a good girl out for one wild time before getting back to real life. You going to give me that, Enforcer?”

ALSO BY REBECCA ZANETTI

THE DARK PROTECTORS SERIES

Fated

Claimed

Tempted

Hunted

Consumed

Provoked

Twisted

Shadowed

Tamed

Marked

THE REALM ENFORCERS SERIES

Wicked Ride

Wicked Edge

Realm Enforcers, Book 2

REBECCA ZANETTI

Wicked Edge _1.jpg

LYRICAL PRESS

Kensington Publishing Corp.

www.kensingtonbooks.com

Wicked Edge _2.jpg

All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

Table of Contents

“You ever ride a bike before?”

ALSO BY REBECCA ZANETTI

Title Page

Dedication

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Teaser chapter

Teaser chapter

Teaser chapter

Copyright Page

This one’s for Big Tone,

because for our first date,

he took me on a motorcycle ride

to visit my Nana.

I love you.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I have many people to thank for help in getting this second Wicked book to readers, and I sincerely apologize to anyone I’ve forgotten;

Thank you to the readers who’ve followed the Dark Protectors into the Wicked Realm, and thanks for understanding that I make up places and people in my books (the island isn’t real in this one, gang);

Thank you to Big Tone for giving me tons to write about and for being supportive from the very first time I sat down to write. Thanks also to Gabe and Karlina for being such awesome kids and for making life so much fun;

Thank you to my talented agents, Caitlin Blasdell and Liza Dawson, who have been with me from the first book and who have supported, guided, and protected me in this wild industry;

Thank you to my amazing editor, Alicia Condon, who is unflappable, willing to take a risk, and is always a wonderful sounding board;

Thank you to the Kensington gang: Steven Zacharius, Adam Zacharius, Alexandra Nicolajsen, Vida Engstrand, Michelle Forde, Jane Nutter, Justine Willis, Lauren Jernigan, Fiona Jayde, and Arthur Maisel;

And thanks also to my constant support system: Gail and Jim English, Debbie and Travis Smith, Stephanie and Don West, Brandie and Mike Chapman, Jessica and Jonah Namson, and Kathy and Herb Zanetti.

Chapter 1

Daire Dunne swung his leg over his Harley, disembarking and biting back a growl. Music and boisterous voices spilled out the open doorway to the club’s main bar area, and the stench of beer permeated the center concrete courtyard.

Another bloody party at Titans of Fire Motorcycle Club.

He’d spent most of the evening at the Grizzly MC headquarters, quietly drinking aged whiskey and playing poker with several friends, who were supposed to be his enemies. He’d had enough of the potent brew to be feeling nicely mellow, but with his metabolism, the feeling wouldn’t last long. Especially since he’d had to return to Fire, pretending to be a full member.

Enough of this undercover shit.

He rolled his neck and erased his normal pissed-off expression, stalking inside the room heated with too many bodies and alcohol fumes. Maybe he could get a couple of Fire members to finally loosen up and give him the Intel he needed. Spilled booze squished beneath his size fourteen boots, and he felt the scowl forming on his face again.

He scoured the disorganized array of bar tables, stools, and drunks, his gaze hitching on a woman across the room, moving on, and then zooming back in.

Fucking stunning. Long, nearly white-blond hair, deep blue eyes, bone structure masterfully crafted by the gods on a seriously good day. She sat on a stool across a round wooden table, a low-cut black T-shirt revealing high breasts—pushed up and surprisingly full from what could only be described as a petite bone structure.

Her gaze met his and traveled from his head to his boots . . . and then back again. Her pink lips twitched and spread into a smile.

It was the smile that did it. Sweet and filled with challenge, which was a combination he’d never been able to ignore.


Перейти на страницу:
Изменить размер шрифта: