She preferred guys with an edge to them. Bad boys, her mama called them. Then one night she met Clyde and knew her mama was right, for Clyde Chestnut Barrow was one of the baddest. He had that look: dark, secretive eyes that never looked directly into yours combined with a pretty face and a smooth way of talking and silk shirts that fit him just right. He liked her, too. They were destined to be star-crossed lovers who blazed across the hot Southwest...