by Debra Webb
Deke wagged a finger. “No, no. Just take a seat. This will all be over shortly.”
“What?” She stayed on her feet. “You’re going to make this look like a suicide?” She had to keep him talking. “People know me better than that.” She had to think of something.
He tipped his head to the side. “It was a thought. But you’re right. And the damage lasts longer if your killer might be roaming free in Belclare.”
“You’re a monster. You worked Filmore into a frenzy.”
“No,” he snapped, stepping forward. “Filmore was his own worst enemy. The man was a small cog in a large machine. I am much more valuable. You might have been an asset, but instead you became an impediment. Now you must go. And don’t worry, my attorneys will prove your pathetic police work was all wrong. You can die knowing you didn’t stop me.”
He was insane. Unfortunately, he’d focused all of that insanity on her. There was no babbling remorse over what he’d done or what he was about to do. His confidence unnerved her, but she refused to give in without a fight.
He’d moved drugs through her town, nearly killed two of her neighbors, three if she counted Riley, and burned down her police station. No, she would not give in while she still had an ounce of breath in her lungs.
“Why don’t you just go?” she whispered. She needed him to believe she was completely beaten. “I’ll let you walk away. I’ll tell the world I was wrong.” She forced herself to sit on the edge of the couch and reached out to trace the soft petal of a rose in the flowers he’d brought her yesterday.
Deke laughed, the sound harsh and laced with violent intent. “Oh, you might give me a head start, but you’d never give up or lie. You have far too much integrity. I sincerely regret to say that is your downfall.”
“You’d be the white whale, too big for me to ever catch.”
“How you tempt me.” He came around the coffee table and sat beside her with that elegant grace she used to admire and now detested. “Unfortunately for you, I am a greedy white whale and the bounty on your head has become more than I can resist. You see, bigger fish than I want you gone.”
He reached out, taking a lock of her hair and winding it around his fingers. “I did have hopes for you. For us.”
“Tell me,” she whispered, trying to hide how he made her skin crawl. She had to disarm him, it was her only hope.
There was a creak on the stairs and everything in him shifted. His eyes darted in that direction and then back to her, his features twisting into an evil snarl. His hand fisted in her hair and he yanked her head back. The muzzle of the gun was cold against the tender skin under her jaw. “Come out or I’ll blow off her head!” he shouted.
Abby went still, fighting the instinct to squirm. “Who are you talking to?”
“Your lover, I’m sure. I cannot believe you took up with him. You don’t even know him. He’s lied to you every bit as much as I have!”
She hated that Deke was right, but then again, she’d known Deke for years and had never seen this darkness in him.
Maybe she was a fool.
“No one is here, Deke,” she said. Everyone thought the bad guy was caught. She’d pushed Riley away after learning the truth. If she didn’t think of some way out of this, she’d never have the chance to apologize. Intense regret swamped her. She squeezed her eyes shut against a sudden rush of tears, but one escaped, trickling back into her hair.
“Who are you crying for, darling?”
The endearment, so ugly in Deke’s elitist tones, snapped her out of her self-pity.
“Kill me or run,” she said, gathering her courage. “But make a damned decision already.” She elbowed him in the gut and stomped on his foot. It wasn’t an effective strike at this angle, but it forced the gun from her face and the distraction bought her precious seconds. He still had her by the hair. She pulled her knees to her chest and kicked out, hitting him in the chest and forcing the air from his lungs.
His fingers released her. A wild shot exploded from the weapon and breezed by her head. He shouted more threats as she rolled to the floor, but she ignored them all, searching for any kind of weapon. Her coffee table splintered and the vase toppled, spilling water all over her.
Deke swore, lunging for her again. She grabbed the vase and bashed him over the head.
Another gunshot rang out, and Deke’s body went limp, crushing hers.
The coppery smell of fresh blood mixed with the clean pine and sweet roses and lilies that had brightened the room so cheerfully just a day ago.
She pushed at Deke’s shoulders, not sure if he was dead or merely unconscious. The floor shook as people pounded into her house.
Then she was surrounded by people dressed in black tactical SWAT gear. She only knew they weren’t from Belclare, or even Baltimore. The team lifted Deke’s body off her, carrying him and his gun out of her house. She asked if he was dead, but no one answered her.
“Are you injured?”
She shook her head. Only her coffee table and a wall or two. The raw wounds she suffered wouldn’t benefit from a bandage.
“Someone will contact you for a statement,” one of the team said, and then he walked away.
The sudden quiet in their absence was nearly as shocking as their entrance had been.
She pushed up to the couch, but it felt slimy. Contaminated by Deke’s deception and violence. Raking her hair back from her face, her knees wobbled as she tried to walk away from the destroyed room. She just couldn’t face the mess and destruction right now. Couldn’t cope with all that it signified.
The bathroom upstairs was too far. She might as well climb Mount Everest. She stepped out of her shoes and stumbled along to the kitchen.
A man clad in black tactical gear filled the room, his back to her. He didn’t have a helmet and she recognized the sandy-brown hair as well as the spread of his shoulders. Shoulders she’d leaned on more than once in past days. Shoulders she’d clung to last night with part of him deep inside her. “Riley?”
Her hand covered her lips. Was that even his name?
“Have a seat, Abby.”
“You...” She looked back toward the hallway. “You’re here to take my statement?”
“Eventually. Right now I just want to take care of you.”
“I’m fine.”
He stripped off his bulletproof vest and set it on the floor by the back door. “You’re in shock.”
“On a few levels,” she confessed. “You saved my life.” He’d said that was his job, his real purpose in Belclare.
“I had a little help.”
“But I said...” She had to clear away the emotion clogging her throat. “I said awful things at the station.”
“I might have deserved them.” He shrugged. “I hurt you.” He ran warm water over a paper towel, then squeezed out the excess. Pulling another chair closer, he started cleaning her face.
“I can do that,” she protested, abruptly annoyed by his tenderness. He should be angry with her. She should still be angry with him. What did it mean that he was here? Was he just doing his job again or was there more to it?
It scared her how much she wanted there to be more to it.
He washed her face and sat back, staring at her. There were questions in his soft brown gaze that echoed the ones chasing through her mind.
“You handled yourself well,” he said.
“Is he dead?”
“Don’t know,” Riley answered. “Does it matter?”
“Only if he causes more trouble.”
“Well, dead or alive, I can assure you Deke Maynard is done causing trouble.”
“You’re sure about that?”
He nodded. “No lawyer will get him off or out on bail now.”
She believed him. She should ask for proof, but it was there in his steady, golden-brown gaze. He was telling her the truth.
“I want a new couch,” she blurted.
“That’s reasonable.”
“This time I want it b
igger.”
One of his dark eyebrows arched and his lips twitched at the corner. “Big enough for two?”
She nodded. “Maybe a sectional.”
He laughed and pulled her to her feet, wrapping his arms around her. “Now we have two houses needing repair work.”
Abby spread her hands flat across his chest, stroking up and over his shoulders, following the firm muscles under the black ribbed sweater down to his hands. “I know a guy who’s good with his hands.” She lifted his hands to her lips, kissing each finger in turn.
“You do?”
She looked up into his warm brown eyes and felt the weight of the world simply fall away. “I do.”
“Took you long enough to decide between us today.”
She wondered if he could forgive her hesitation or if it would be the end of them after all. “I was wrong but there were mitigating circumstances.”
“Let’s talk about those circumstances.”
“You know,” she said, trying not to look at him, “you’re free to go now. You got the bad guy. Saved my life—again.”
“I wish that was true.”
“What does that mean?” Did she even want to know?
She slumped against him, too tired for games. Riley had proved himself a jack-of-all-trades, from hanging garland to making her feel treasured in bed as well as out of it. Here, behind closed doors, no one was watching; she could lean in and steal a kiss and no one could call her weak. No one could judge her momentary lapse from police chief to normal woman.
Before temptation got the better of her, Riley came to her rescue again. He gently cradled her face in his palms, holding her steady for his kiss. She watched him close the distance, her eyes drifting shut as his lips met hers. But the kiss was fleeting, not deep as she’d hoped and his breath whispered across her face.
“I’m not free.”
She opened her eyes, caught in the tender, golden-brown gaze assessing her. “What?”
“You have me well and truly caught, Abby Jensen.”
She was so confused, so worried he might have to go—or want to go. “What do you want from me?”
“What I’ve never had.” He smoothed a hand over her hair, his eyes searching hers. “I want roots. A home and family. You, forever.”
It was mutual. It was so mutual. How did he pack so much intensity and intention into those few words? Her heart stuttered. She’d never really understood that a stuttering heart was possible until now. Forever was monumental. Wasn’t it? She barely knew him. But forever was plenty of time to get to know him. There she went, arguing with herself!
“Think about it,” he said, the words soft and warm against her lips. “I’m not leaving Belclare. I’m here to stay.”
“Why?” She wanted him to kiss her the way he had last night when the world and all its problems had simply vanished. She wanted a kiss that blanked her mind and didn’t leave room for questions about the past or present. A kiss that didn’t carry any worries for the future.
“You know why,” he murmured as his lips landed warm and soft on hers.
What started gently escalated as she wound her arms around his waist, drawing him closer and pouring her heart into it. She wanted him to feel what she was too afraid to say. Too afraid to ask. How strange when her heart felt so safe that the rest of her trembled with fear.
Her career, her life’s work, meant facing fear potentially every day. But here, with Riley, she knew there was more at stake and none of it was within her control.
Well, not much of it anyway.
He broke the kiss and studied her face. “You’re thinking.”
She couldn’t deny it. “About you. Me. Us.”
“Us works.”
“Yes, I think it does.” She took a deep breath and blurted out what neither of them could afford to overlook. “Homeland made it clear I’m still a target.”
Riley rolled his eyes, but he didn’t step away. “Tell me Mayor Scott didn’t hear them.”
“He did,” she said with a smile, “but this is about you. I can handle the mayor.”
“I’m not leaving.” He drew her body up tight against his. “Not leaving town.” He kissed her nose. “Not leaving you.” He kissed her lips. “Not leaving us.”
“Because of your assignment?” She hated the way her voice wobbled on the question.
“Because of you. I love you. Get used to it.”
She pushed up on her toes and kissed him again. “I can do that.”
“And?”
“And what?” she teased, trailing a fingertip along his full lower lip. He caught her finger in his teeth and growled just a little. “Oh. I have to say it?”
Another low rumble sounded in his throat.
“But I thought you knew.”
He bit down a smidge harder and she laughed. “All right. I love you, too.” She tugged her finger away. “Whether you’re a carpenter or a bodyguard or just the hunk next door, I love you, too. Forever.”
Epilogue
Thomas Casey read the report from Specialist O’Brien, pleased with the reduced threat rating for Belclare. Chief Jensen wasn’t exactly in the clear—she might never be—but at least she had the best possible protection in place.
Thomas stared at the mountain of folders on his desk. Belclare was only the beginning.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from DELIVERANCE AT CARDWELL RANCH by B.J. Daniels.
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SPECIAL EXCERPT FROM
Read on for a sneak peek of
DELIVERANCE AT CARDWELL RANCH
by New York Times bestselling author
B.J. Daniels
Part of the CARDWELL COUSINS series.
Daniels delivers another Cardwell Ranch keeper with a woman on the run...
and the lawman sworn to keep her safe.
“Maybe you don’t understand the fine line between snooping and jail. Breaking and entering is—”
“I’m going with you,” Donning a hat and gloves, Gillian turned to look at him.
Austin was smiling at her as if amused.
“What?” she asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under his scrutiny. She knew it was silly. He’d seen her at her absolute worst.
“You just look so…cute,” he said. “Clearly breaking the law excites you.”
She smiled in spite of herself. It had been a while since a man had complimented her. But it wasn’t breaking the law that excited her.
She breathed in the freezing air. It stung her lungs, but made her feel more alive than she had in years. Fear drove her steps, along with hope.
At the dark alley, Austin slowed. It was late enough that there were lights on in the houses.
“Come on,” Austin said, and they started to turn down the alley.
A vehicle came around the corner, moving slowly. Gillian felt the headlights wash over them and let out a worried sound as she froze in midstep.
Her moment of panic didn’t subside when she saw that it was a sheriff’s department vehicle.
“Austin?” she whispered, not sure what to do.
He turned to her and pulled her into his arms. Her mouth opened in surprise and the next thing she knew, he was kissing her. At first she was too stunned to react. But after a moment, she put her arms around his neck and lost herself in the kiss.
As the headlights of t
he sheriff’s car washed over them, she gave a small helpless moan when Austin deepened the kiss, drawing her even closer.
The sheriff’s car went on past, and she felt a pang of regret. Slowly, Austin drew back a little. His gaze locked with hers, and for a moment they stood like that, quick, warm breaths coming out in white clouds.
“Sorry.”
She shook her head. She wasn’t sorry. She felt…lightheaded, happy, as if helium filled. She thought she might drift off into the night if he let go of her.
“Are you okay?” he asked, looking worried.
She touched the tip of her tongue to her lower lip. “Great. Never better.”
Find out what happens next in
DELIVERANCE AT CARDWELL RANCH
by New York Times bestselling author B.J. Daniels,
available December 2014, only from Harlequin® Intrigue®.
Copyright © 2014 by Barbara Heinlein
ISBN-13: 9781460342183
The Hunk Next Door
Copyright © 2014 by Debra Webb
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