Hot Pursuit

by Christina Skye

  She knew with the same clear certainty that she recognized the pace of her breath and the beat of her own heart.

  There was no going back. She would be contrary when he needed a good fight, and she would hold him when his memories were too grim to bear alone. She would try not to ask too many questions.

  Through the window, a foghorn droned, hidden somewhere out in the mist. She must have heard the sound hundreds of times before but had paid no attention, perpetually caught up with an endless stream of day-to-day worries and decisions rather than what was really important. How could she have missed the small constant things that slid beneath the surface and fed the true mystery of life?

  The sound came again, clear in the three A.M. silence.

  Each low drone lingered like a message. Taylor wasn’t sure what the message said, but the sound made her feel grounded, anchored in a world she could no longer see clearly.

  She smoothed Jack’s uniform and hung it up gently, a lump at her throat. Tomorrow she’d call the lawyer and start the search for her birth parents. She was finally ready to face the answers she might uncover. Tomorrow she’d also call Annie and come clean about her adoption, even if they argued all night and crashed another golf cart in the process of making peace between them.

  But tonight she would curl up here, touching a man with weary eyes and callused hands, a man who gave her his best again and again without conditions or expectations.

  Jack’s eyes opened as she sat on the bed. “I missed you.”

  “No way. You were lost to the world, my friend.”

  “You think?” He gave a slow smile, pulling her across him so that Taylor felt the unmistakable force of his need.

  Her breath caught. “Maybe you did miss me after all.”

  “Let me show you how much.” His hands were gentle, the fit of his body perfect, and the depths of her emotion left Taylor shuddering as they came to the edge of a place she didn’t recognize.

  “What are we doing, Jack? Where are we going?”

  “Wherever feels right,” he said quietly. “Forget the wondering and the worries. Go by how it feels.” He slid his fingers through her hair, studying her face in the moonlight. “How does it feel now?”

  “Perfect.” She shivered as he brought himself deeper in slow, powerful strokes. “Better than perfect.”

  “I like those shoes you were wearing when you came in. Maybe you could wear them for me later—without anything else.”

  She gave a silken laugh. “I might consider it. With the right inducement.” He moved again, and she closed her eyes. “Do that again, and I’ll wear anything you want, Navy.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  Taylor closed her eyes, hearing the foghorn drone somewhere in the mist. She understood its message now, a deep truth that echoed through her life, marking the moment that her questions fell away, irrelevant before the fierce knowledge of what this quiet warrior meant to her.

  She blinked as tears stirred. “I don’t have a clue what we’re doing, but suddenly I don’t care. I’m with you, Jack.”

  He kissed the curve of her jaw, then shifted. “Stay with me, love.”

  Her answer was a low sound of pleasure and the fluid rise of her body against him, and suddenly he was all the way where she wanted him to be, the pleasure climbing in shuddering waves, his hands tight, clenched on her hair as he whispered against her face in the darkness.

  There in the night, shadows stirred. The old demons reared their heads and howled—but this time, Taylor didn’t even hear them.

  Author’s Note

  * * *

  Thanks so much for joining Taylor on her wild ride! No one is better at finding trouble than this stubborn woman. Of course, that’s probably why she has become one of my all-time favorite heroines. (Not to mention that her writing process is so completely bizarre. In case you’re wondering, I do wear big, orange headphones when I write, and no, I do not wear maternity clothes to get in the right mood. As for the rest of Taylor’s eccentric writing traits, I plead the Fifth Amendment!)

  In case you were intrigued by the monarch butterfly sanctuary in Carmel, you can find more information online at www.pgmonarchs.org. It is hard to imagine that these delicate creatures fly to a small stretch of coastal micro-climate every year in a journey of thousands of miles. To see the trees filled with their glowing golden wings is truly a miraculous sight. For more information about the monarchs and the beautiful Monterey landscape, try the wonderfully informative Monterey Bay Shoreline Guide by Jerry Emory (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1999). If you’re in the area, be sure to stop by the Monterey Bay Aquarium, which is full of fun activities and ever-changing exhibits. You’ll come away with a new appreciation for the richness of this rugged part of the California coast. If you can’t visit, you can bring up their live webcam for a peek at the bay scenery and the antics of the otters. As of the time of publication, their bay webcam was running at the following link: http://www.mbayaq.org/vi/vi_aquarium/vi_monterey_cam.asp. The otters are guaranteed to make you smile!

  If you’re looking for one of the best guides to San Francisco, try San Francisco (London: Dorling Kindersley, 2000). The street-by-street tours are great resources, and the maps alone are worth the price of this wonderful book.

  In case you missed the story of Taylor’s sister Annie and her hunky SEAL husband, look for My Spy, which is set at a beautiful spa on the rugged California coast. Wounded when he saved a busload of children, Sam McKade needs time—and a safe place—to heal. Although he doesn’t recognize Annie, she definitely remembers him!

  Does Izzy seem familiar by now? He should! The man has charmed his way into four of my books already, beginning with The Perfect Gift and continuing through Going Overboard, My Spy, and Hot Pursuit. Yes, I do plan a book for him one day soon. Stay tuned to my website (www.christinaskye.com) for breaking news on that front.

  Meanwhile, I’m laughing out loud at a whole new crew of stiff-necked characters, people who give the word dysfunctional new and interesting meaning! My heroine is dealing with a missing ferret, death threats, and a May wedding in stunningly beautiful Carmel, California.

  But a wedding is the last place Summer wants to be. For her, weddings are very dangerous things. They always make Summer turn warm and fuzzy and go a little crazy. . . . Now she’s thinking about what would happen if she forgot the rule book, kicked back and tried out an over-the-top, no-strings-attached affair.

  With probably the most gorgeous man she’s ever seen.

  For Gabe Morgan, Navy SEAL, one week undercover at a lush seaside estate is a plum vacation with pay. Doing a favor for an old friend makes perfect sense when a senator’s family may be at risk. Gabe can juggle snooty guests and the laughably neurotic members of the bride’s family without missing a beat, even if the bride and groom do seem to argue a lot. The real problem is that weddings bore Gabe stiff. Eloping would be more his style—the faster and simpler the better. Not that marriage is anywhere on his radar screen.

  But that’s before Gabe gets a look at Summer.

  As the big day draws closer, the chemistry between Summer and Gabe is off the charts, simply too strong to resist. Keeping their hands off each other may be their hardest assignment yet!

  Stop by my website for a sneak preview early in the summer. Meanwhile, happy reading. I guarantee plenty of exciting news!

  Christina Skye

  About the Author

  * * *

  Award-winning author Christina Skye lives on the western slope of the McDowell Mountains in Arizona. Hot Pursuit is her seventeenth novel.

  Be sure to visit her online at www.christinaskye.com for updates on Taylor and Jack, Izzy and the wonderful folks in Almost. Watch for her new book, coming in the Spring of 2004.

  PRAISE FOR CHRISTINA SKYE

  Readers Choice Award winner Affaire de Coeur Readers’ Favorite Author Award Romantic Times Reviewer Choice Award winner RITA Finalist

  MY SPY<
br />
  “A joy to read. Brilliant!” —Joan Johnston

  “Sam is a perfect adventure-hero romantic lead, the incredibly fit and smart Annie is his perfect match, and Izzy Tegue, a Denzel Washington clone, is also on the scene, providing much-needed security.” —Booklist

  “Great romances and thrills are hallmarks of Christina Skye novels, and My Spy fits the pattern to a T. Ms. Skye knows how to blend romance, humor, passion and danger to give readers a thoroughly exciting read.” —Romantic Times

  “Fast, entertaining and completely satisfying.”

  —Terrie Figueroa, Romance Reviews Today

  “A suspenseful romance that will keep readers engrossed until the very last page.”

  —Yvonne Hering, CGR Online

  “My Spy has a place on my keeper shelf. It had characters who you so hoped would be able to overcome everything and end up together, with enough exciting action to keep you moving from chapter to chapter without a break.”

  —America Online’s Romance Fiction Forum

  GOING OVERBOARD

  “An irresistible and wonderfully sexy romance . . . Fabulous, outrageous fun!” —Joan Johnston

  “Add this steamy, fast-paced romantic thriller with lots of laugh-out-loud humor to your must-read pile!”

  —Romantic Times

  “A great combination of ‘fun’ and reality.” —Rendezvous

  “Best story I have had the pleasure of reading in a long time! Alluring, romantic, subtly humorous, and loaded with fun and action, this novel is an instant bestseller! Highly recommended.”

  —Huntress Book Reviews

  More praise for Christina Skye:

  “Christina Skye always serves up the perfect mix of suspense, excitement and romance.”

  —Rocky Mountain News

  “Christina Skye holds you in her grasp until the very last word!” —Romantic Times

  “A master of her craft . . . her superb storytelling and vivid characters will seduce you!” —Virginia Henley

  “Christina Skye knows what readers want.”

  —ABC Worldwide News

  “It’s a holiday whenever Christina Skye pens a new love story!” —BarnesandNoble.com

  “If you want a page-turner that will keep you awake all night, read Christina Skye!”

  —WBLY Radio, Dayton, Ohio

  “A writer of rare talents.” —Romantic Times

  “Y2K mania strikes and 2000 Kisses is the wonderful result. This is Christina Skye at her best.” — Romantic Times on 2000 Kisses

  YOU WON’T WANT TO MISS

  CHRISTINA SKYE’S NEXT THRILLINGLY

  FAST-PACED ROMANCE:

  After working six months straight on a hideous kidnapping case, all Summer Mulcahey wants is a serious dose of sun, surf, and sangria. Instead, she gets her craziest assignment—protecting the family of San Francisco’s female DA in the wake of nasty death threats. Handling normal security procedures should be a breeze for Summer, a seasoned FBI operative on loan to the S.F. office. But with the DA posed for a splashy, high-society wedding to the country’s most popular senator, normal doesn’t figure into the mix.

  Look for it in spring of 2004!

  Read on for a sneak preview.

  There was a naked man in her shower.

  Six-feet four inches of man, judging by the brief glimpse she had from the living room.

  Granted, she had just staggered off a twenty-two-hour flight, and her eyes were bloodshot, burning with exhaustion, but Summer clearly could see the outline of a male body down the corridor. She was pretty sure that ringing sound was water running, and that other sound, low and rumbling, was a dark male groan of satisfaction.

  Her stomach clenched. Okay, she was out of here. Either there was a huge mistake about her room assignment or this was another trick. There had been constant hazing in the last year, little things like papers missing from her desk and coffee spilled inside her locker. This could be someone’s warped idea of funny. It would have taken only a few phone calls to arrange it.

  See what it takes to rattle the new kid. See if she’ll stick or if she’ll run. Summer shook her head, swung up her suitcase, and opened the front door.

  The brass plaque on the shadowed porch still read “Blue Suite.” Beneath that, her name was still written in small, elegant letters.

  Her room. Her name.

  Something moved out in the darkness, and she froze.

  Then Summer realized it was just her taxi, pulling away in a hiss of gravel. Completely exhausted, grimy from hours of travel, she stared longingly at the cozy room with the fruit basket on the black lacquered dresser and the huge vase of tulips framed by the front window.

  Heavenly. No way was she leaving.

  She kicked off her shoes, padded across the room, and shoved her suitcase behind the couch. Her heavy coat went flying onto a sleek leather sofa along with her briefcase. Nursing a glass of water from the small refrigerator, she wandered through the plush living area. There were no signs of anyone living here, no dirty socks on the floor or clean shirts hanging in the closet. The bed was made, and there were no dents in the pillows.

  Summer couldn’t wait to sink down into that soft bed and sleep for a year.

  Beyond the living area, water struck the glass walls of the shower, and the towel hanging over the door slid free, slapping as it hit the marble floor, giving Sunny an unobstructed view of broad shoulders and a world-class naked body.

  A little voice hissed out a warning.

  Punchy with exhaustion and anger, Sunny ignored it. She crossed her arms and sat down grimly in a velvet chair, where she had a full view of the airy bathroom and the shower enclosure.

  He was singing an old Beatles song—low and very off- key—when the water hissed off, and the glass door slid open.

  An odd tingle shot through Summer’s stomach. Definitely a world-class body, with the sculpted shoulders of an athlete in superb condition and a chest to make a grown woman cry. Drops of warm water clung to the dark hair on his chest, then traveled lower.

  She swallowed hard. She hadn’t planned to look, but somehow she was doing it anyway.

  When the stranger turned and saw her, he went still, muscles locking hard. The part of Summer’s mind that was still functioning noted that the man had truly excellent muscles. As she sat rigid, he made no move to go for the towel angled across the floor.

  A smile played across his mouth. “Maid?” He had the hint of an accent she couldn’t trace. Something smoky and rough.

  “Guest,” she countered flatly. “And unless you talk real fast, pal, you’re going to be telling your story to the local police.”

  His smile didn’t waver. “Now you’re terrifying me.” The roughness was there, but there wasn’t a hint of anxiety in his cool smile or the slow way he scooped up his towel and tossed it over his shoulder.

  Concealing nothing.

  Obviously, modesty was a foreign concept to the man.

  Summer prayed to the patron saint of travelers to stay cool under his unrelenting stare, but the prayer wasn’t working. Heat was climbing slowly up her body, leaving fingers of awareness in a dozen sensitive locations. No doubt it was the result of the industrial-strength Dramamine she’d taken on the plane, dulling her edge.

  “Get out,” she said tightly.

  “You look tired. Sorry about this.” He anchored the towel low around his waist and shook his head. “Things were just starting to get interesting, too.” He didn’t turn, giving a two-finger wave as he crossed the living area. “I’ll talk to the kids about this tomorrow. Meanwhile, enjoy the shower, now that I got things all warmed up for you.”

  The front door opened.

  “Night, Ms. Mulcahey.”

  Summer saw the towel slide lower on his lean hips. She was pretty sure her mouth was hanging open. She closed her eyes and sank back in the velvet chair, feeling the steam of his shower brush her face like a warm caress.

  She’d had aggravating assignments before, bu
t something told her this one was going to take the cake.

  HOT PURSUIT

  A Dell Book/February 2003

  Published by Bantam Dell

  A Division of Random House, Inc.

  New York, New York

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2003 by Roberta Helmer

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law. For information

  address: Dell Books, New York, New York.

  Visit our website at www.bantamdell.com

  * * *

  Dell is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc., and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

  * * *

  eISBN 0-440-33400-4

  v1.0