by C. J. Miller
A chilling murder sparks a red-hot runway romance...
After working her way to the top of the modeling world, Marissa Walker finds her dream turning into a nightmare. Her best friend is murdered before her turn on the runway! Is killing models suddenly in style? Now a deadly hitman is targeting Marissa...even as she becomes a suspect in her friend’s death.
Enter Jack Larson, army ranger turned bodyguard. Jack’s mission: protect a supermodel while attempting to resist the flesh-and-blood woman behind the stunning face. He’s been burned in love before, as has Marissa, but when the hunt for a killer leads them into a world of glamour and danger, they’ll put everything on the line for love—and their lives!
“How are you?”
“In shock. Can’t imagine not seeing her again.”
Her chest felt tight. This couldn’t be fixed. That acknowledgment devastated her all over again.
Marissa heard a creak outside her door and she tensed. Kit or Griffin might be checking on her. Or was Jack patrolling her town house for security issues? Several seconds of silence passed.
She heard another creak.
“I have to go. Talk soon.” She sent the message and squeezed her eyes closed. The noises were the house settling. She was safe.
Marissa felt a hand on her arm. She opened her eyes and came face-to-face with a man she didn’t recognize.
Before she could scream, he clamped his hand over her mouth, pushing her back into her pillow, pressing her hard into the mattress. Her heart thundered and she tried not to panic. Pushing at his hand, she couldn’t get his weight off her. He would suffocate her!
* * *
If you’re on Twitter, tell us what you
think of Harlequin Romantic Suspense!
#harlequinromsuspense
Dear Reader,
Marissa Walker was introduced in Delta Force Desire (Harlequin Romantic Suspense, June 2016). Marissa is a supermodel, and while she is used to being judged on her appearance, she longs for someone to see there is more to her than photographs and fashion.
As an operative for the West Company, Jack Larson deals with difficult problems on a daily basis. Watching over Marissa as a favor to a colleague should be easy. Keeping Marissa safe from a killer means staying out of the limelight, but with a woman like Marissa, her well-known face and beauty are noticed everywhere they go. Even Jack finds himself falling under her spell.
Jack and Marissa discover their initial impressions of each other are wrong. There is much to learn when they look closer with open hearts and minds.
I hope you enjoy this adventure with the West Company!
Best,
C.J. Miller
www.cj-miller.com
ESCORTED BY
THE RANGER
C.J. Miller
C.J. Miller loves to hear from her readers and can be contacted through her website, www.cj-miller.com. She lives in Maryland with her husband and three children. C.J. believes in first loves, second chances and happily-ever-after.
Books by C.J. Miller
Harlequin Romantic Suspense
Hiding His Witness
Shielding the Suspect
Protecting His Princess
Traitorous Attraction
Under the Sheik’s Protection
Taken by the Con
Capturing the Huntsman
Delta Force Desire
Special Forces Seduction
Escorted by the Ranger
The Coltons of Texas
Colton’s Texas Stakeout
Conspiracy Against the Crown
The Secret King
Guarding His Royal Bride
The Coltons: Return to Wyoming
Colton Holiday Lockdown
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com,
or www.cj-miller.com, for more titles.
Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!
Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards
http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010002
To my husband, for his love and support of
every book and in everything.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Excerpt from Take It to the Grave (Part 1 Of 6) by Zoe Carter
Chapter 1
Glittering, colored lights lined the black shiny runway and music pulsed low through the air. The exceptional talent and star-studded audience were assembled for a fantastic show. Fashion designer Declan Ambrose’s safari-themed fall and winter line was making its debut in New York and Marissa Walker was first on the runway.
Marissa checked her hair and makeup in the backstage lit mirror. She enjoyed the drama of the event and the clothing she’d be modeling. The anticipation around her was palpable. She had been modeling for fifteen years and this was the capstone to her runway career. Though she hadn’t told anyone outside her agent, this was her last live show. She was one of the oldest models here and while many in the industry respected her professionalism and fashion sense, she wanted to retire at the top and with dignity, not be forced out by younger, thinner models. Her plans for the future were simple: travel and enjoy the sights, paint and relax, visit with family.
After working nearly every day for the last decade, she had earned a break.
Marissa recognized most of the people gathered backstage and in the audience and felt a pang of sentimentality. She’d miss this harried, busy world. Women and men she’d modeled with in the past, the cast and crew from popular television series and movies, Broadway actors and actresses, and investors and businessmen and women in couture outfits talking, networking and enjoying themselves.
Marissa caught a glimpse of her ex-boyfriend Rob in the mirror. She looked away, avoiding eye contact. After their drama-filled six-month-long relationship, she didn’t want to see or talk to him. He could be sweet and attentive one day, dismissive and cold the next and who knew what she would get today. Sticking out the relationship with Rob even six months had been her attempt to prove she could make a long-term relationship work. The tabloids had been vicious about her recent dating history: a handful of dates with a series of men which hadn’t turned into anything. Being seen out with a new man every few weeks had gotten embarrassing.
Rob was likely looking for Avery who was also modeling today. Let Rob and Avery have each other. Marissa couldn’t revisit those emotions, especially not when Ambrose was counting on her to be fresh-faced and energetic for his show. Thinking of Rob and Avery exhausted her.
“Looking great, Marissa,” Clarice said, slapping her high five with her right hand as she passed by, her left arm clutching a clipboard. Her straight blond hair fell down her back. The head-to-toe black she wore worked on her athletic figure.
Clarice was the backstage assistant for the show. She and Marissa had worked together before and Marissa admired her attention to detail. With Clarice working the show, every model would be wearing the right outfits and shoes, hair done to Ambrose’s specifications, makeup perfect, and walking out at the right time.
Ambrose would be the talk of the city for the next few days. Marissa had looked at some of his designs and they were good. Great even. Ambrose deserved th
is. He had started in New York City selling tourists handmade hats on street corners and worked his way to fashion fame. Scoring a showroom this week was a huge boon. Ambrose already had several offers for his clothing line to be sold in high-end department stores. This was Ambrose’s night. Marissa had consulted with him on some of the early designs and fabrics, but Ambrose had stepped up his game this season. They would celebrate after the show with champagne toasts at a private party he had organized at a nearby hotel.
Marissa strode past the gold tables of makeup and mirrors and the silver racks of clothing. Ambrose was probably in his office, reviewing the order of the designs to be presented. His obsession with perfection had launched him as one of the most sought-after designers.
Marissa stopped short when she heard Avery’s voice. She was speaking quickly the way she did when she was upset. Though Marissa was excited about today’s event, the pressure could put other models, designers and staff on edge.
Avery was standing thirty yards away, hand on her hip, gesturing with her other hand at someone as if making an important point. She was wearing five inch heels; Marissa recognized them at this distance because hers were similar. Avery’s long blond hair was in waves down her back and her lithe frame alluded to how much time she spent in the gym. A pang of sadness struck. If they were still friends, they would be hanging out today, enjoying the show and attending the after-party together. They would have critiqued the clothes and discussed which were their favorites. Avoiding Rob was easy; Marissa had washed her hands of him. But Marissa couldn’t dismiss Avery. To rebuild the relationship, she needed to speak with her, but her sense of betrayal ran deep.
Marissa turned around, avoiding Avery. She wasn’t ready to talk with her, much less interrupt her heated conversation to initiate an awkward one.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, Marissa’s adrenaline was still pumping from her walk down the runway. The design was fabulous and her shoes were spectacular. The printed dress was a blend of greens, orange, yellow and tan, the fabric giving a bubble shape to the hemline of the dress; and her shoe design inspired by hiking boots without the chunkiness. Marissa could sense the excitement from the crowd over Ambrose’s designs.
She was changing into her next outfit, giddy at the idea of taking another stroll down the runway. On her next dress, the print was leopard on the sides, the front and back were black, giving the dress a svelte and sleek appearance. Though retirement and travel could provide a different set of excitements, it would be hard to top this.
“Avery!” Clarice was looking at her clipboard, tapping her pen against the metal top and speaking into her headset. Marissa glanced around and didn’t see her. Avery was hard to miss. Even among other models, she was tall with naturally white-blond hair.
“Find her! She needs to be on deck!” Clarice said.
The staff was looking for her and some of the models appeared disdainful. No one wanted a mistake at the show and timing was important.
Ambrose was watching the show from the catwalk on the other side of the stage. Though Marissa couldn’t see him over the bright lights, he’d be wearing a slim pressed gray suit, crisp white shirt and carrying his cane with the tiny bronze alligator head mounted at the top. On his feet, the alligator boots he swore were his good luck charms. He would freak if the event skipped a model or a design. Marissa pictured his slender, clean-shaven face morphing into disgust and his brown eyes narrowing in frustration.
Marissa heard a scream and whirled around, teetering in her heels.
Another model was backing away from a rack of clothes, hand over her mouth, pointing at the fabric. A collective gasp rolled through the air. Marissa walked toward the gathered group, straining to see what the commotion was about.
The pulse of the music seemed to disappear. The voices around her faded. Her eyes zeroed in on a horrifying sight.
Avery was slumped between a red gown and an orange one, her body twisted in an unnatural way. Bile rose in Marissa’s throat and she inhaled to keep from getting sick. She took another deep cleansing breath and looked again, moving forward to help.
No one else was touching Avery. Marissa set her fingers on her neck, looking for a pulse. “Someone help me.” Nausea struck her. Avery’s blood was soaking the clothes on the rack, turning them red.
Shock and sadness consumed her. The rest of the room fell away and it was just her and Avery. Her heart raced and the blood rushing through her ears was deafening. She shook Avery’s shoulders. “Avery, wake up! Avery?”
No response.
Marissa looked at the crowd. Some were on their phones, maybe calling for help. Clarice stepped forward, setting a hand on Marissa’s arm, trying to pull her away. Marissa shook her off. Was that Rob in the crowd? She glanced at Avery and when she looked up again, Rob was gone. Or he might not have been there at all.
Clarice touched her shoulder. “The paramedics are coming.”
The stillness of Avery’s body was disturbing. Marissa turned her head and took several gulps of air. All around her, more shouting and crying.
The sound of ambulances split the air, but Marissa knew it was too late. Avery was gone.
* * *
The police precinct was loud and busy. Desks were crowded together and the lighting was dark and depressing. The floor felt matted with grime and Marissa tried not to touch anything as she sat in the folding metal chair inside one of the closet-sized offices. Her sister had flown in on a private plane to help her and Marissa was grateful. Before Kit had arrived, Marissa had been waiting alone in the office for well over three hours. Three hours was a long time to think and panic and worry, especially after one of the detectives had asked her about Rob and Avery. The nature of his questions and the suspicion on his face led her to believe she was a suspect.
The office belonged to someone named “Captain Sparky,” which sounded like a nickname. Captain Sparky’s desk was piled high with papers stuffed messily into manila envelopes and his trash can was overflowing with tissues.
“Marissa, focus. You need to tell me everything you remember,” Kit said.
Marissa looked at her sister. “I’ve told you everything. I didn’t do this to Avery. I wasn’t involved in this.”
Kit’s face flooded with sympathy, her brown eyes bright with concern. Her dark ponytail swung over her shoulder as she leaned forward. “Griffin and I believe you.”
Marissa looked over at the tall, brawny man currently on his phone, standing outside the office. Her sister’s fiancé was a force to be reckoned with, but this situation was out of their control. Kit claimed she worked for a car company in their import department, but Marissa knew there was more to the story. Kit’s offer to help with a murder investigation proved that.
“Someone had to have seen something.” An event like Ambrose’s show was milling with people. No one was alone and there was no privacy. Everyone dressed and prepped in a rush to make the timing on the runway.
Kit pressed her hands together. “According to Rob, you’re the person who knows something.”
Indignation rose inside her. Rob had pointed the finger at Marissa as an enemy of Avery’s. Marissa had had to explain that she had dated Rob and he’d cheated on her with Avery. The police hadn’t accepted her brief answers. They’d wanted details and dates and names and exactly what had happened between the three of them. “Rob is an idiot. I didn’t do this. I was on the runway and there were dozens of cameras in my face.”
Marissa hadn’t even spoken to Ambrose yet. He must have been devastated. He had lost a friend, and the show he had worked so hard for had been cut short. The attention and circumstances could work in his favor or it could destroy his sales. Depended how it was spun in the news.
Marissa had gone over the events of the day beginning from the time she had arrived at work, trying to recall if she had missed something or cou
ld think of some small detail that would help. With so many questions and doubts swirling around her, Marissa wished she could go home and bury her head in a bottle of merlot.
“Did you talk to Avery at the show?” Kit asked again.
Marissa shook her head. When she had overheard Avery speaking in the hallway, she hadn’t lingered around to hear who she was talking to or the topic of the conversation.
“When you saw Avery, are you sure you don’t know who she was speaking with?” Kit asked again.
Marissa hid her irritation at her sister’s attempts to help. Avery could have been speaking with Rob or Ambrose or anyone at the show—a security guard, a stylist, a photographer, another model.
Kit glanced over at the police detectives speaking together. “The police are looking at you for this and we need to give them a reason to look elsewhere.”
Marissa scrubbed her hands over her face. Her makeup felt sticky and she was beyond exhausted, her eyes gritty with fatigue. “I didn’t kill Avery.”
“She stole your boyfriend,” Kit said.
A fact everyone repeated to her as if she had forgotten the incident. “I’ve told you. I was more hurt about her stabbing me in the back than about losing Rob. At some point, she and I would have buried the hatchet and become friends again.” At her and Avery’s level, with years of experience in the industry and countless mutual connections and friends, their paths would cross. Their years of friendship meant something and after Avery dumped Rob, it would be that much easier to renew the friendship.
Was Avery killed by someone jealous of her? By another designer looking to ruin Ambrose? Someone had to have witnessed the tragic event. “When the police collect the footage from the show, they’ll piece together it wasn’t me.” One advantage to being a model was that she was in photographs and they would be her alibi.
Kit frowned. “I’ll do everything I can for you. What reason would someone have to kill Avery? You were close with her. Was she into drugs or gambling or was she in debt to anyone?”