His Brand of Justice (Longview Ridge Ranch Book 4)

by Delores Fossen

  Yeah, he had, and Jack figured there were a lot of people who wouldn’t be mourning Kingston’s death.

  When Zeller stepped away to talk to Kellan, Jack knew that was his cue to get Caroline out of there. Unfortunately, the rain hadn’t stopped. It was no longer coming down in buckets, but it was still drizzling.

  “Wait here,” he told her. “I’ll bring Kellan’s truck up to the door.”

  She glanced out the glass doors before turning to him and catching on to his hand. “We can walk. The fresh air and rain will feel good.”

  No, it probably wouldn’t. It would just get them wet—again. But Jack really didn’t care. The only thing that mattered right now was that Caroline was safe. And that she wanted him.

  He had no trouble figuring that out when she leaned in and kissed him. Long and hard. Just the way he liked his kisses from Caroline. Of course, it stirred the heat. Always did, and when she finally eased back, they were both smiling.

  And clearly eager to get home.

  Jack grabbed a newspaper from a rack by the door, and he used that to cover their heads as they walked out. Not a mad dash but a slow stroll with Caroline’s uninjured arm around his waist. They stopped long enough for another kiss. Then, another. By the time Jack finally got them in Kellan’s truck, it felt as if they’d just gone through a round of foreplay. Foreplay that continued when Caroline dragged him back to her.

  After he got his eyes uncrossed from the intense heat of it, he winked at her. “Are you just trying to get in my pants?”

  “I’ve been in your pants. It’s a nice place to be. In fact, I can say that your pants are the only ones I’ll ever want to get into again.”

  Jack had been about to start the truck, but that stopped him so he could look at her. And kiss her again. “That means you’ll have to marry me,” he said.

  She shook her head. “We don’t have to be married for that.”

  He looked at her, making sure she saw that her answer would mean everything to him. Everything.

  “Marry me,” he insisted. “And don’t make me repeat that whole outburst about me loving you more than I’ve ever loved anything or anybody.”

  “What if I want it repeated? What if I say it to you this time?” Caroline added before he could speak.

  The corner of his mouth lifted, and he could have sworn his heart doubled in size. “I think I’d really like to hear that,” he said.

  She didn’t take her eyes off him. “Believe me when I tell you that I love you. More than anybody else. More than anything. More than I ever thought it possible to love someone. Believe me when I tell you I’ll marry you and that I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you just how much I love you.”

  Smiling, Jack kissed her, his words whispering over her lips. “I believe you.”

  * * *

  Look for more books by USA TODAY

  bestselling author Delores Fossen from both

  Harlequin Intrigue and HQN Books coming soon!

  And don’t miss the previous books in the

  Longview Ridge miniseries:

  Safety Breach

  A Threat to His Family

  Settling an Old Score

  Available now wherever

  Harlequin Intrigue books are sold!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Protective Order by Rita Herron.

  WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM

  Seek thrills. Solve crimes. Justice served.

  Dive into action-packed stories that will keep you on the edge of your seat. Solve the crime and deliver justice at all costs.

  6 NEW BOOKS AVAILABLE EVERY MONTH!

  Protective Order

  by Rita Herron

  Prologue

  He’d kill her if he found her.

  But Reese Taggart couldn’t go back. Not to being smothered and held captive by his anger and his erratic mood swings. Not to pleasing him when that was impossible.

  Not to a life without friends and a house where she had to follow his rules or be punished.

  She tugged the ball cap over her head and struggled to stay in the shadows as she climbed in her car and pulled away from the gas station. A big burly man wearing a hoodie was watching her from the gas pump.

  Tension gathered in her belly. Had Robert paid the man to find her?

  Shivering, she pressed the accelerator and sped onto the highway. Nerves on edge, she looked over her shoulder to see if the man had followed.

  Finally, when she veered onto the entrance ramp to the freeway, and she didn’t see him, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  Although a feeling of despair mingled with fear as night fell. She’d left her apartment. Had packed everything she owned in her car and was on the run. She had no idea how to rebuild her life, but her first priority was to escape him.

  The protective order she’d filed hadn’t mattered to him. He’d ignored it. Had broken in and threatened her. Had promised to make her pay if she ever tried to leave.

  Then he’d tied her up and left her naked and alone. His ugly gray eyes had pierced her as he’d told her she needed to think about how to be a good wife.

  They weren’t married. She’d turned down his proposal. Had made several attempts to break it off with him.

  He’d refused to accept that it was over.

  When she’d managed to free herself, she’d spent the night in a cheap motel somewhere on the highway, terrified and debating where to go. The police had said they couldn’t help her unless he hurt her.

  She didn’t want to die.

  This morning, she’d made a decision. Move to Raleigh where her sister lived. The two of them needed each other. And Tess deserved to know why Reese had cut off communication with her the last few months.

  A gust of wind slammed against her vehicle, the windows rattling with the force. A storm was brewing. She had fifteen miles to go.

  Her phone dinged with another text. Him again. He’d started calling and texting the minute he’d discovered she was gone.

  You’ll be sorry for leaving me.

  The only thing she was sorry for was ever believing he was a nice man. For signing up for that stupid online dating site.

  Her friends said it would be easy. Safe. They were all doing it.

  All she had to do was create a profile. Post some pictures. Swipe if she liked someone.

  Meet in a public place. Like a coffee shop.

  And she had.

  He’d been so charming in the beginning. Almost shy. Quiet. Like a gentle giant, he’d complimented her and wined and dined her. She’d lost her mother the year before and had still been grieving. He’d offered a shoulder to cry on. Had understood the reason she’d dropped out of college to work for a while.

  He’d promised to take care of her.

  She hadn’t known that meant isolating her from friends and family and trying to control her.

  Finally, she reached the exit for Raleigh. She considered giving her sister a heads-up she was on her way, but figured she needed to explain in person. Perspiration beaded on her neck as she took the exit ramp and veered onto the side street leading to her sister’s little house. Tess was an artist and worked at a coffee bar near the downtown area.

  But she chose to live outside the city limits for the privacy. She said the countryside inspired her creativity.

  The ten miles to her house seemed like an eternity, but Reese grew more relaxed as she approached. She’d missed her sister these last few months. Needed her now.

  But as she rounded the corner, she spotted smoke in the air. Thick plumes drifted up into the clouds and swirled in a blinding haze of gray.

  She punched the accelerator and sped the next mile. Just as she’d feared, her sister’s house was on fire.

  Terror pulsed through her as she screeched to a stop. She punched in 9-1-1 and asked for hel
p, then threw the car door open and hit the ground running. Flames had caught the roof and seemed to be coming from the back room. Tess’s studio.

  The chemicals she used to paint and clean her brushes were there. Oh, God...

  The wind howled as she ran toward the house. Maybe her sister wasn’t here. Although her little Toyota was in the drive.

  Reese pushed the front door open and screamed, “Tess!” She called her name over and over as she raced through the small bungalow. Tess wasn’t in the living room or kitchen.

  Smoke billowed everywhere. Wood crackled and popped from the back rooms. She coughed and covered her mouth with her scarf but refused to turn back.

  Heat scalded her as she inched down the hallway. The guest room was empty but filled with smoke. Tess’s bedroom...so much smoke she could barely see inside.

  She ducked into the room anyway. But Tess wasn’t in there.

  Terror clawed at her. The studio.

  Flames were starting to lick the edge of the doorway.

  “Tess!” She blinked and peered inside. Flames crept up the wall. Her sister’s canvases were on fire, the beautiful colors of paint dripping like blood. Smoke and fire consumed the shelves of art supplies.

  Then she saw her sister. On the floor. Not moving.

  Screaming her name again, she raced toward her. Fire ate at the window curtains. A piece of burning wood splintered from the shelf and pelted her. Flames licked at her shirt, but she threw the splintered wood aside and beat at the flames. She knelt and shook her sister. Tess was unconscious.

  Please, dear God, let her be alive.

  Fear driving her, she grabbed her sister’s arms and began to drag her from the room. Sweat poured down her face and neck. Something shattered. The floor was growing hot, the fire spreading. She had to hurry.

  She yanked and pulled with all her might, hauling her sister through the living room to the front door. A siren wailed in the distance. Lights twirled and glittered across the dark sky.

  She pulled Tess onto the porch then down the steps and dragged her across the grass to a nearby tree. Then she dropped to the ground and shook her.

  “Tess, honey, hang in there!” She felt for a pulse, but nothing. Seconds ticked by. A fire engine roared into the driveway. Firefighters jumped from the fire engine and sprang into action.

  She shouted for help. “My sister. She’s not breathing!”

  One of the firemen ran over, his face etched in worry as he stooped down and pressed two fingers to her sister’s neck.

  A second later, he shook his head.

  “No...” She refused to give up. She shoved him aside and started chest compressions. Understanding on his face, he murmured that he’d take over.

  She stared in shock as he worked to try to save her sister. But as he performed CPR, she spotted ligature marks around Tess’s neck. Saw the imprint of someone’s fingers. A man’s.

  Her hand flew to her own throat. Robert had choked her once. Had left marks like those.

  His threats taunted her. You’ll be sorry.

  An ambulance careened up. Medics hopped out and raced to help. Firefighters rolled out hoses, dousing the flames with water. The roof collapsed.

  The medic traded a look with the firefighter. “It’s been too long,” he murmured.

  The medic checked Tess’s pulse. Her heart. Then his look turned to sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

  Reese shook her head in denial. Tears leaked from her eyes and dripped down her chin. She dragged her sister into her arms and held her, rocking her and crying as the truth seeped into her consciousness.

  Robert had been here. He’d killed her sister to punish her.

  Tess, the only person she had left in the world. Her best friend. Her little sister. Gone.

  Dead at twenty-six.

  And it was all her fault.

  Copyright © 2020 by Rita B. Herron

  Love Harlequin romance?

  DISCOVER.

  Be the first to find out about promotions, news and exclusive content!

  Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

  Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

  Instagram.com/HarlequinBooks

  Pinterest.com/HarlequinBooks

  ReaderService.com

  EXPLORE.

  Sign up for the Harlequin e-newsletter and download a free book from any series at

  TryHarlequin.com

  CONNECT.

  Join our Harlequin community to share your thoughts and connect with other romance readers!

  Facebook.com/groups/HarlequinConnection

  ISBN-13: 9781488067587

  His Brand of Justice

  Copyright © 2020 by Delores Fossen

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  For questions and comments about the quality of this book, please contact us at CustomerService@Harlequin.com.

  Harlequin Enterprises ULC

  22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor

  Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada

  www.Harlequin.com