Samhain Publishing

Hell hath no fury like a scorned woman—with toys.

Private Lives, Book 1

Renny Johnson has no idea why her ex-husband broke into her house in the middle of the night. She plans to find out—right after he wakes up from a close encounter with his own baseball bat. As long as she’s got him tied up, she might as well make him answer every unanswered question about their divorce.

Nicholas sneaked into the house, hoping to retrieve his precious autographed bat without having to face Renny’s wrath. He didn’t expect her to knock him out with it. Then again, who can blame her? He left her to take a walk on the wild side, to search for that missing something he thought he couldn’t find in his marriage.

Now that he’s completely at her mercy, he’s about to find out how merciless—and how incredibly sexy—his ex can be. The night becomes a wild roller coaster ride of amazing sex, dominance and submission, and maybe the beginning of a brand new chapter in their lives.

Unless the flames burn out of control…

Copyright © 2006 Beth Williamson
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication

Chapter One

Renny was ripped from an intense slumber as if she’d been thrown into the deep end of a freezing cold pool. She sat straight up in bed, sweating and trembling. Adrenaline pumped through her sleep-chilled body. She didn’t know what had woken her. Perhaps it was the snick of a door closing, or the brief meow of a cat outside. Whatever the cause, she was wide awake and alert.

Someone was in the house.

Every single woman’s fear, especially when she lived in an area that was easily accessible and hidden from public view. Her dream house fulfilled her lifelong need to own something tangible. However, it now appeared the dream was about to be distorted from bright and sweet to dark and scary.

Renny glanced at the alarm clock. The red numbers flashed 12:17 in a room otherwise dark as pitch.

She should call the police, but out in the boondocks there was no nine-one-one service. Since the local police force clocked out at six, the closest help was the state police more than twenty miles away. Renny was more or less on her own.

She clamped down on the panic trying to rise. She had a weapon and a cell phone, and she wasn’t about to let someone chase her out of her new house. A sharp crack of thunder reverberated through the house, startling her enough that she bit her lip to the point of pain to keep from crying out. The rumbling was followed by a flash of lightning that temporarily blinded her. The gauzy white curtains on the bay window did nothing to shield her from its dazzling light.

Perfect. A thunderstorm would not only mask any noise the intruder made, but the lightning would make it impossible to hide from him. Then again, he couldn’t hide from her.

She stood and groped in the dark for her shirt and shorts, but just found panties. Ah well, the drawbacks to sleeping nude. She slipped the panties on, then felt her way to the nightstand and removed the Taser gun. Her dad had convinced her to get something to protect herself after she refused his offer of a pistol.

Her palms were clammy and her mouth felt like a drought-ridden prairie, but she gripped the Taser and remained upright. As she walked toward the bedroom door, the thunder shook the house again, followed by a sizzling bolt of lightning. She spotted her shirt on the floor by her left foot and snatched it. After slipping it on, she felt a little better prepared. Less naked anyway, since panties and a shirt weren’t exactly body armor.

The old Renny would have run from a challenge; whether or not there was danger involved was irrelevant. The youngest of five children, she had spent most of her life avoiding anything remotely resembling confrontation. That was before her divorce, before she found the courage to start her life all over again. The new Renny would confront everything head on, come hell or high water.

Whatever the outcome of the break-in, it would bring trouble, but she could not stop herself from finding out who was in her house. Renny trusted her instincts, and they were all standing up like the hairs on the back of her neck.

Her heart thumped like a bass drum, sending adrenaline and blood racing crazily through her system. Beads of sweat broke out on her brow, between her breasts and under her arms. Through all that, she felt cold. Perhaps it was the air-conditioning set low enough at night to allow her to snuggle under mounds of covers. Perhaps it was cold, raw fear.

Renny opted to believe it was the latter, but it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t let the fear control her. Courage and fear went hand in hand.

A deep breath in, and she let it out so slowly, even she didn’t hear it. Although she lived alone, she always kept the bedroom door closed when she slept. Creeped her out to leave it open. She glanced down at the Taser and shook her head. To use it, she’d need to get close, really close, to whoever was in the house. She needed something with more reach, something longer.

The baseball bat. Nicholas’s baseball bat. It was on the shelf in the closet, a trophy from her divorce battle with her ex-husband. Used by Mark McGuire to break the homerun record, the bat was obsessively important to her ex. He’d insisted on it in the divorce settlement, but she happily refused to hand it over.

It seemed more important to him than his wife had been, which was exactly why she refused to give it to him.

Thankful she’d purchased the deep plush carpet, she tiptoed to the closet and set the Taser on the floor. As quietly as possible, she slid the door open and groped on the shelf until she located the bat behind the empty shoeboxes and purses. One of the smaller purses fell and landed on her face, nearly scaring a scream out of her. Definitely made the sweat pools larger. She’d need a shower soon.

The bat slid down almost noiselessly, thank God. The weight of the wood felt solid in her hands. Comforting. Empowering. Whoever the jerk was who broke into her house, this bat was about to make him regret it.

A scratching sound made Renny jump. She watched in horror as the bedroom door slowly opened a few inches. She crept behind the door, keeping both hands on the baseball bat, praying her sweaty palms or racing heart didn’t give her away. Damn, she should have picked up the Taser too.

The soft scrape of the door on the carpet was the only sound in the room, other than the blood rushing past her ears. She held the bat like a batter waiting for the ball to cross the plate. God help her if her aim was off even a little.

She swallowed, or tried to since her mouth was still as dry as cotton. Inch by inch, the door opened until she wanted to scream, “Just get your ass in here!” Instead, she held onto her patience and waited, bat at the ready. Finally, finally, a dark shape stepped into the room and paused. When a rumble of thunder sounded, Renny knew she had only moments before the lightning flashed again, revealing her whereabouts, or at least where she wasn’t.

Her opportunity came seconds later when he stepped farther into the room. Renny swung the bat with all her might. After dinging a shoulder, it connected with a dull thump on the intruder’s skull. He dropped with a grunt onto the carpet and lay still as death in the gloom.

Renny shook with fear and triumph, and felt damned lucky she didn’t need new panties.

Holy crap.

She ran to the closet and picked up the Taser, never letting the bat leave her right hand. Now doubly armed, she headed toward the bathroom to turn on the light. She didn’t want to blind herself so she flicked on the switch near the tub, which threw a small shaft of light into the bedroom. The unconscious lump on the floor didn’t move.

Renny crept toward him until she was within reach. She poked him with the bat, then jumped back. Her heart couldn’t take many more surprises. Fortunately, nothing happened. She blew out a shaky breath and figured she needed to make sure he was securely trapped before she called the police.

Rope. She needed rope. Did she have any? Maybe in the garage. That meant she’d have to walk around him, or rather over him, to leave the room. Better now than never. She used the wrist strap on the Taser to hang it from the elastic on her panties, hoping like hell it wouldn’t slip and send jolts of electricity into her sex.

She tiptoed slowly toward him, baseball bat ready. It had only been a minute, but it felt like an hour since she’d hit him. As she made a wide arc around the body, something caught her eye, something that winked in the meager light from the bathroom. A silver necklace around the intruder’s throat. A familiar-looking open-link necklace of white gold.

It couldn’t be.

She stepped closer and peered at the intruder’s face, knowing who it was yet hoping she was wrong.

Nicholas.

It couldn’t be. It sure as hell shouldn’t be. Why would her ex-husband break into her house? He left her, not the other way around. Now he broke into her house in the middle of the night? The very idea made her head hurt, not to mention what it did to her heart.

Nicholas sure as hell owed her an explanation for this, among other things. Particularly since her friend Janie told her about where she’d seen Nicholas and what he’d been doing there. In all the years she and Nicholas had been together, she’d never imagined he’d need or want something like that. Another puzzle she needed to solve.

Renny headed for the garage…and the rope. As soon as she flicked the light on, she remembered how she got the rope. About two months after Nicholas left her, her friends convinced—bullied—her into rock climbing at a local indoor place. She had actually been excited about climbing and bought a new harness, carabiners and rope. When they got there, Renny learned how to step into the harness before slipping it on. The instructor checked everyone’s and they all passed inspection…until he got to Renny.

He frowned. “You need at least three inches of room between the strap and the buckle. There just isn’t enough here to be safe. Sorry, but you’re going to have to use one of our extra-large harnesses.”

His blue eyes were sympathetic, but it didn’t make Renny feel any better. Fact was, her damn thighs were too fat to fit properly on the climbing harness the salesgirl had told her was one-size-fits-all. In the end, all Renny did was belay for others, holding the rope for them and giving them slack as needed. She was too embarrassed to climb or wear a jumbo-sized harness like a circus elephant.

She stared at the bright yellow and black rope sitting on the shelf next to the hated harness. Right on top were two carabiners, the locking kind. Now she had to remember how to tie that figure-eight knot, and Nicholas wouldn’t be able to move an inch. A rush of evil thoughts swirled through her mind.

Should she really tie him up? When else would she have the opportunity to grill him on what went wrong? He’d left her after ten years of marriage without so much as a note. Instead, a courier arrived at work and delivered the papers from the attorney after he’d filed for divorce. The most devastating, crushing experience of her life and all she had was a stack of papers in her shaking hands.

The memory of that moment sealed her resolve. Renny would make Nicholas talk. One way or the other.