by Ana Barrons
Wrongfully Accused
By Ana Barrons
Detective Gabriel Hugo has never been able to forget Kate Franklin. Eight years ago he let down his barriers and made love to her, but guilt and regret tore them apart.
Now she’s the prime suspect in the murder of her second husband, an ambitious congressman. The FBI wants Gabe to use his connection to Kate to prove her guilt. Unfortunately his desire for Kate is as intense and forbidden as ever.
Kate is shocked to be a suspect and that the lead detective is the man she always wanted. Eight years ago Gabe hadn’t been willing to hear that she was in love with him, and nothing has changed. But when the attacks on Kate’s life begin can she trust Gabe to prove her innocence and keep her safe?
98,000 words
Dear Reader,
In the world of publishing, January is an intimidating month. Mostly because we’re thinking about 2013 long before we want to be. In fact, conversations about 2014 have long since started. How’s that for intimidating? January is also intimidating because we’re expected to set goals and promise great things for the year ahead. That, Carina Press can handle.
This year, our goal is not only to continue to provide readers with excellent editorial, but also to add a new category of New Adult to our romance line, in order to increase the number of mystery, science-fiction and fantasy titles we publish; to publish returning authors with connected books; and to grow our romance subgenres such as historical romance, GLBT, romantic suspense and erotic romance. You can look forward to all of that happening in 2013!
In January, we start the year by finishing up Shannon Stacey’s second Kowalski family trilogy with the highly anticipated story of Josh and Katie’s romance, All He Ever Dreamed. If you haven’t read Shannon’s books, you can check out the original Kowalski trilogy for only $4.99 per novel. We also enter 2013 with the paperback release of Fiona Lowe’s 2012 RITA® award-winning contemporary romance, Boomerang Bride.
Other contemporary romance authors joining Shannon in January include Rachael Johns, kicking off a new contemporary series set in Hollywood with Stand-In Star, and Liz Flaherty with Jar of Dreams. Liz’s debut romance, One More Summer, was described by reviewers as “compelling and addictive” and “one incredible story.”
On the other end of the romance spectrum are several paranormal, urban fantasy and steampunk romance releases this month. Coleen Kwan returns with the sequel to her fun steampunk romance Asher’s Invention. Asher’s Dilemma brings you the continued romance of Asher and Minerva in a clockwork world.
Two other continuing series return with fantastic installments. Claws Bared by Sheryl Nantus is the next story in her Blood of the Pride series. And Sandy James offers up The Impetuous Amazon, the second book in the Alliance of the Amazons series. Meanwhile, a new paranormal trilogy begins with Stacy Gail’s Nobody’s Angel, which brings us a tale of Nephilim and sassy heroines. Look for the second book, Savage Angel, in February.
Cathy Pegau takes us into space with her newest science-fiction romance, Caught in Amber, while Eleri Stone takes us to a world steeped in fantasy and wrapped with pleasure in Threads of Desire, her erotic fantasy romance. Keeping us in the here and now, with more erotic sexy-times, is Callie Croix’s newest erotic contemporary romance, Covert Seduction.
We’re pleased to welcome mystery author Wendy Roberts to Carina Press with her newest mystery, Grounds to Kill. We’re also pleased that Julie Moffett has chosen to reissue her Scottish historical romance, The Thorn & the Thistle, with us in January.
Last, to start off 2013, I’m excited to introduce you to our two debut authors. JL Merrow offers up a compelling tale of love through the ages with the male/male historical time travel Trick of Time. Romantic suspense author Ana Barrons will blow away fans of suspense and romance with her debut novel, Wrongfully Accused. Please join me in giving these two authors a warm welcome to Carina Press (by buying their books, of course!).
I hope you’ll join me for another excellent year of books at Carina Press. Our 2013 schedule is shaping up to be full of books our team loves and can’t wait to get into readers’ hands, including a new trilogy from Fiona Lowe; a compulsively readable new adult romance, Rush Me, from debut author Alison Parr; the last two parts of Jax Garren’s dark Beauty and the Beast retelling; more contemporary romance novels from up-and-coming author Christi Barth; the kickoff of a thrilling urban fantasy series from debut author Steve Vera; more erotic romance compliments of Lynda Aicher; a series of erotic Love Letters from a collection of authors; noir historical mystery Die on Your Feet by debut author S.G. Wong; and another installment of Marie Force’s romantic suspense series.
This is only a small portion of the amazing books we have coming up in 2013, so please look for these and more from the awesomely talented Carina Press authors.
We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and questions to [email protected]. You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press
www.carinapress.com
www.twitter.com/carinapress
www.facebook.com/carinapress
Dedication
For Mom
Acknowledgements
A million thanks to my wonderful critique partners and BFFs: Joyce Lamb, Maggie Hoye and Linda Cutillo, for your insight, your honesty and your humor. I love you guys!
Endless kisses to my loving and brilliant husband, for being my biggest cheerleader.
Love and xoxo to my loyal and encouraging sisters for reading those early, early drafts of my manuscripts—you two are the best!
And eternal gratitude to my fabulous agent, Laura Bradford, and my incredibly talented and meticulous Carina editor, Mallory Braus, for all your help. You two are amazing.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
About the Author
Copyright
Prologue
Washington, D.C.
Officer Gabriel Hugo pressed his back hard against the cinder block wall of the apartment breezeway, Glock pointing down between his size thirteens. Sweat dripped from his forehead and off the end of his no
se, trickled down his neck and chest and soaked through his shirt. The humid night air amplified the stink of garbage, piss and marijuana smoke.
And fear.
His.
Please, God, I don’t want to shoot this kid.
Kevin Brewer was sixteen at best, raised in a shit hole a lot like this one and lacking a single reasonable bone in his skinny, filthy body. If he would put his fucking gun down for one minute and hear Gabe out they wouldn’t be in this standoff. But the kid was forcing his hand. If Gabe dropped his gun the punk would off him without a second thought. Not only did Kevin have a poor excuse for a conscience, he had something to prove, making him the most dangerous kind of adversary.
“You won’t get out of this alive, Kevin,” Gabe called. “You know there’s backup coming. Even if you shoot me you won’t get out of this building without a shitload of holes in you. Is that what you want your mama to see when she comes down to identify you? Her baby boy’s brains coming out the back of his head? Is it worth it to make your first cop kill so your homeboys’ll be proud of you?”
“I told you,” Kevin called back, his voice shaky and a little breathless, like he was hyperventilating. “Throw me your piece and you walk. Otherwise you shut the fuck up.”
Gabe blinked sweat out of his eyes and counted to three. “Drop the fucking gun, Kevin. Put your hands on top of your head and kneel on the floor, and nobody will hurt you. You hear me? Prove that you have a fucking brain in your head.”
“Fuck you!”
“You got a death wish, Kevin? What are you, twelve? You want to die at fucking twelve years old?”
Finally, sirens in the distance. Gabe clutched his gun with both hands as he slid closer to the corner of the wall, imagining Kevin moving away from him and toward the steps leading down to the alley. Praying Kevin was moving away.
Please, God, don’t make me shoot this kid.
He pictured Jeremy back at his apartment, asleep in his crib while his brother and his girlfriend kept watch. Or, more likely, while Steve worked on his computer and Kate snuggled Jeremy in her arms.
The sirens were loud, closing in. Gabe risked a glance around the corner. Kevin was coming at him, gun raised, panic and determination in his dark eyes.
No, don’t let this be happening.
“Drop it!” Gabe shouted. But Kevin took aim and was about to squeeze the trigger.
No choice, no choice, no choice.
They fired at the same time, but Gabe’s aim was truer and the boy dropped to his knees, then pitched forward on to his face. Gabe lowered his gun slowly, went to Kevin’s side and felt for a pulse. Outside doors slammed and footsteps rang up the cement steps.
And rang, and rang, and rang...
* * *
It was nearly 4 a.m. when Gabe unlocked the door to his Capitol Hill apartment and stepped inside. No sign of his brother or Kate, so they had to be in his bed. He only asked them to stay overnight with Jeremy when he got an emergency call. They always rushed over, understanding that he didn’t want to call Lindsay and let her think he couldn’t handle having Jeremy spend the night. No way. He’d call the Pope to babysit if it would prove him worthy of having joint custody of his son.
He threw his keys down on the coffee table and pulled his shirt over his head. God, he stunk. The AC in the building was on but it was struggling. He peeled off his jeans and boxers and headed into the bathroom for a shower. It smelled of the girly, floral shampoo Kate used, and for a moment he stood with the lights off and inhaled. The room smelled of life and beauty and purity, not ugliness and death.
Do not think about the boy you killed back there.
He turned the jets on hard and hot and let the spray pound his chest and face, as though it could somehow batter away the pain and guilt. He lathered some generic shampoo into his thick hair, then scrubbed at his body with soap and scraped the loofah over every inch of his skin until the hot water ran out. No matter how hard he tried to empty his brain, he couldn’t escape the image of Kevin falling to his knees. Kevin lying in his own blood.
Turned out the boy was fifteen.
Gabe wrapped a towel around his waist, brushed his teeth and went into the living room. He’d grab a sheet and pillow from the closet in his room and bunk on the too-small couch. Jeremy would be up in a couple of hours anyway.
But first he stepped into Jeremy’s tiny room and peered into his crib. The boy was curled up, thumb in his mouth, sweaty curls shiny in the dim glow of the night-light. Safe. Peaceful. Tears pricked his eyes at the thought of what Kevin’s mother was going through tonight.
He reached out to touch his son, but stopped himself. If Jeremy woke up he’d want to play, and Gabe was in no shape to play or talk or interact in any way with another human being.
Gabe’s bedroom was dark except for the glow of his digital clock, which helped him navigate around all the crap on the floor when Jeremy woke during the night. At eighteen months his son slept through most nights, but he couldn’t depend on it. He glanced at the king-size bed on his way to the closet—and saw one body instead of two.
Kate’s long dark hair was spread out on the pillow. She was curled up on her side, like Jeremy, with the covers kicked off, wearing a tank top and running shorts. Gabe stood, transfixed, watching her sleep. Steve must have gone home to work on some project he couldn’t do on his laptop. Nothing stood in the way of his Internet business, not even his amazing girlfriend.
Gabe went to the closet for the bedding, then glanced back at the bed. Kate took up less than a quarter of it. If he stretched out on the other side, away from her, she’d never even know he was there. He’d wake up as soon as Jeremy made a peep anyway, so what difference did it make? This way he’d actually get some sleep, instead of twisting his body into a pretzel on the couch.
He pulled on running shorts and a white T-shirt and lay down on his back as far from Kate as possible. The ceiling fan was blowing warm air around, but the breeze helped. He must have drifted off because the next thing he knew somebody was shaking him and saying his name, over and over. Somebody who smelled like fresh flowers and soap. He opened gritty eyes to Kate’s worried face inches from his.
“Gabe, are you okay?” she asked in a loud whisper.
He didn’t answer, because he didn’t know why she was there or why she thought he wasn’t okay. They were lying on their sides, facing each other, Kate’s hand on his shoulder, her warm, feminine scent overwhelming his senses.
In his bed.
His cock went rigid.
“What...” he finally managed.
In answer she stroked her thumb over his cheekbones, her eyes in the dim light filled with sympathy. “You were crying in your sleep,” she said, and he realized she’d been wiping away his tears. He couldn’t speak around the lump in his throat.
“Were you dreaming?” she asked. “Or did something happen tonight?”
He closed his eyes and it came back to him in slow motion.
Kevin raising his gun, aiming right for Gabe’s chest.
Gabe raising his gun, knowing it was kill or be killed.
The bullet hitting Kevin’s chest and the startled awareness in the boy’s eyes that he was about to die.
Kevin keeling over, hitting the cement floor with a thud. His short, short life draining out of him in a spreading pool of blood.
Loud footsteps on the stairs.
Gabe’s ears ringing as he felt for a pulse that wasn’t there.
“Oh, Gabe,” she whispered, pulling him to her and holding his head to her breasts as she stroked his hair. “Go ahead and let it out.”
Beneath his cheek the thin fabric of her tank top grew wet with his tears. He squeezed his eyes tight and tried to stop the flow, but the fact that she was holding him and comforting him made it that much tougher. Fuck. What was wrong with him? He was a cop, for chrissake. A big, tough motherfucker who did what he had to do.
But he’d shot and killed a kid. A fucking kid.
He rolled on to h
is back and threw an arm over his eyes while he struggled to pull it together. Kate wrapped her small hand around his biceps and made gentle sweeps across his skin with her thumb. He felt that movement of her skin against his all the way to his toes.
“What happened to you tonight?” she asked, and she was so sweet and concerned it was all he could do not to crawl into her arms and let her hold him like she held Jeremy.
“It’s not a pretty story,” he rasped.
“No, I didn’t think it would be,” she said. “But you might feel better if you talk about it. I can take it, you know.”
He sighed with effort. Little by little he told her the whole ugly story—punctuated by long pauses and throat clearing to hide the cracking of his voice—until he was drained of words and tears. But not of shame. Or grief.
When he finished she stroked his cheek and said, “Oh, God, I’m so sorry, Gabe. Try to sleep. I’ll stay with Jeremy today.”
Gabe lifted the arm covering his face and gazed into her gentle eyes. How could Steve have gone home and left this beautiful, generous woman behind? He was always leaving Kate on her own. Even at family parties, it was typical for Steve to hole up in a bedroom with his laptop or take a separate car so he could leave early. Granted, his Internet business was growing phenomenally, so he had a lot on his plate. But where were his little brother’s priorities?
If Kate belonged to him he would never willingly spend a night without her.
“Does my brother know how lucky he is?” he asked before he could stop himself.
Kate’s eyes widened for an instant, and then she shrugged and gave him a lopsided smile.
No, Steve didn’t appreciate what he had and they both knew it. His brother was brilliant and self-absorbed, and he took people for granted. His mother and older sisters had doted on the precocious, difficult, angel-faced toddler, and when the psychologists proclaimed him a genius they all but wrapped the kid in cotton batting. Even Gabe had put the kid on a pedestal. Steven looked up to him, always had, but he was of little use when Steven had one of his meltdowns. Only Kate could soothe him and bring him out of his funk. She completed him, Steve had said more than once. Problem was, Steven wasn’t really there for her.
