Free Veil of Night by Linda Howard Page A

Jaclyn’s life. Madelyn had finally thrown in the towel and filed for divorce when Jaclyn was thirteen, when Jacky’s irresponsibility with money had threatened to drag them all down.
    Jaclyn made a face in the mirror as she deftly twisted her heavy hair into a knot and shoved some long, stabilizing pins into place. Of course, Jacky being the half-assed father he was, and the divorce, had marked her. Everyone was marked by their experiences in life, so she wasn’t special. She couldn’t even say she’d had any unusually traumatic events. But being Jacky’s daughter had definitely made her wary and cautious, because he was exactly what she didn’t want to be. Maybe she wouldn’t have been like him anyway; maybe the wariness and caution were inborn, which made it possible for her to see him, love him, and not be bamboozled by him. Who knew?
    All of which had nothing to do with the fact that she’d just had the first one-night stand of her life, and in retrospect, she didn’t like the idea that she’d lost either her self-control or her mind. What would she do if he really did call her next week? Did she want a relationship? Was that even still on the board, or had she placed herself in the call-for-sex category?
    Oh hell, of course she wanted to at least try for a real relationship with him. She’d never before had such an instant, compelling reaction to a man, and even though it scared the stuffing out of her, she wanted to see where it went. And if he thought she had been slotted into the call-for-sex category, well, she’d find out soon enough, and the sooner the better.
    She took two deep breaths, squared her shoulders, then glanced at the clock and groaned. Introspection was a time-hog.
    She grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl in the kitchen, poured the rest of the coffee into a to-go cup, and turned off all the appliances and lights before letting herself into the garage, locking the door behind her. A motion light in the garage came on, lighting her way to the car. Juggling her bag, coffee, and banana, she got into the car and locked the door before punching the garage door opener. Yep, “careful” was her middle name.
    She backed smoothly out of the garage, and rain danced on her windshield. She braked, groaning in dismay. She was pretty sure rain hadn’t been forecast, but here it was. No bride liked rain on her wedding day. Thankfully today’s wedding wasn’t an outside event … and that Madelyn was handling it. Still, was it an omen that it was raining on the first wedding of the week?
    She hesitated for a moment, thinking of going back inside and changing her kitten-heeled sandals for something more substantial, but another glance at the time had her resolutely lowering the garage door and backing the rest of the way into the street. If her feet got wet, she’d live with it. She didn’t have time to change.
    It was still dark, the streetlights reflecting on the wet streets as she wound her way out of the residential area to the main road that would take her to Buckhead. Hopewell didn’t have any industry; there were businesses, office buildings, doctors and dentists and restaurants, dry cleaners, things of that sort, but no honest-to-God industry involving factories. Hopewell was newer than Buckhead, didn’t have the older stately mansions; instead, it had a sizable number of new stately mansions—not just the big McMansions, but actual estates, with large grounds, privacy walls, and gates at the end of the driveways.
    Hopewell also had sections of what Jaclyn would term strictly middle-class housing, neighborhoods established before land prices soared. She had grown up in one of those houses; Madelyn had sold it only when Premier began taking up the lion’s share of her time, and she couldn’t handle the yard work and upkeep. Jaclyn hadn’t said anything to her mother, but privately she had cried on the day the sale was final. The neat brick house had been her home, even if she had long