Cal sat up, feeling bruised and battered, but something inside him was bursting open—hope and sunshine even though it was a bitterly cold day. He yelled after her. “You’re a little hard to impress, you know that, Dr. Sullivan?”
“Well, if you don’t give it a try, I will,” said one of the deputies with a grin.
Cal laughed. Because Sarah didn’t want the deputy. She wanted him. He was finally getting it, after a lifetime of being denser than the resident mule on the ranch, something was finally getting through his thick skull. He. Deserved. To. Be. Happy. And so did she.
Nat held out his hand and pulled Cal to his feet. “She’s stubborn.”
Cal scratched his head. “I need to go get that ring.”
“Damn right,” said Nat.
Sheriff Talbot appeared on the roof and hitched his belt. “I need you two to come down to the station—”
Cal shook his head. “I need to get to the jewelers before it closes—”
“Too bad. You were involved in the apprehension of a gunman. What in the hell were you two doing up on the roof anyway?” Talbot eyed him, as if only just remembering he’d left him on the side of the road not twenty minutes ago.
For the first time ever, Cal got in Talbot’s face. The fire inside him burned through the reserve he usually wore around the lawman. “Look, Sheriff, the woman I love could have died up here today, no thanks to you. She told me I need to go buy her diamonds, so I’m goddamned going to buy her diamonds.”
Talbot squinted and ran his tongue over his teeth. “I’ll take it under consideration, but for now, you’re coming with me.”
Nat stood beside him, tension radiating off him in waves. Dammit, Cal was done with all the bullshit he had to put up with. “No.”
Talbot opened his mouth to argue or threaten.
Cal spoke over him. “I get that you need to question me.” He wasn’t an idiot. “I get that you think I’m scum of the earth for doing what any man would do when they saw another man whaling on a woman. There is nothing I can do to bring Terry’s dad back from the dead, and believe me, I would if I could, just so he could get what he deserved instead of being treated like some innocent victim.” The guy had been a vicious bully who used his fists on anything that caught his eye. Cal peered down at Talbot, no longer meek and mild, but gloriously pissed. “I can’t change what you think about me, and I don’t give a damn. But we’re taking that trip to Stone Creek, and I’m doing a little shopping, right now, even if I have to go there in handcuffs. Otherwise, I’m gonna start pressing those charges of police harassment my lawyer suggested. Do you understand me?”
Talbot frowned and looked away. Then he nodded to one of the deputies. “Take Landon to the station in Stone Creek. Stop at Rozens’ on the way. I’ll question Mr. Sullivan first.”
Chapter Seven
SARAH’S BRAVADO EVAPORATED by the time she made it down to the admission desk. She found Madge stacking charts. “Anyone hurt?”
Madge shook her head. They both watched Henry Henriksson being placed into a police cruiser. Madge shifted her attention, sighed, and fanned herself. “The only good thing about today is seeing all these fine men in uniform.”
Sarah’s knees started to collapse so she sank into the nurse’s chair and bent over and hugged her legs. “I can’t believe you’re lusting after guys when we have bullet holes in the walls.”
Madge chuckled and then gave another whistle. “Although Wrangler jeans work just fine too on a handsome cowboy. Hm, mmm.”
“Tell me you aren’t drooling over my brother.”
“Him and his friend. Is he taken, sugar?”
Sarah scrambled to her feet in time to see Cal being forced into the back of another police cruiser. “He just saved my life on the roof.” And told her he loved her. Her throat closed. “He’s definitely taken.” She just wished the cops would stop harassing him.
Madge smiled slyly. “She’s a lucky girl.”
“I am.” She caught Madge’s dark eyes and grinned, even as tears started streaming down her face. “I really am.” She cleared her throat and picked up a chart. “Okay then. I want to get home before Santa arrives with my presents, so let’s get this chaos sorted and people out that door.”
“You got it, doc.” Madge gave her a wicked grin. “And, Sarah? Have fun opening your presents, honey.”
“I intend to.” Every day. She wasn’t going to mess this up, even if Cal didn’t bring her a ring, as long as he came home to her, she’d love him for the rest of their lives.
* * *
CAL WALKED OUT of his cottage, clean-shaven, wearing black dress pants and uncomfortable shoes that he’d bought for Nat and Eliza’s wedding, a freshly-ironed blindingly-white shirt, and a black Stetson. He took a deep breath. This was it.
“Sounds like you are preparing yourself for battle,” came a voice out of the darkness.
He looked left and saw Sarah standing in the moonlight. She was wearing those boots again, and another red dress, but this one looked like it was made of wool and had long sleeves. His mouth went completely dry. His thoughts fried. He was pretty sure she was trying to kill him with longing and old-fashioned lust.
“Did I thank you for saving my life today?” she asked quietly.
“You’re here, aren’t you? That’s all the thanks I need.” Knowing she was safe after that fuckwit had held a gun on her—sweet Jesus, he didn’t want to think of it.
She moved closer, and he watched her carefully. She stood toe-to-toe with him and placed her hands on his chest, reached up on tiptoes and caught his lips with hers. She tasted like honey and cinnamon, smelled like apple pie.
He closed his eyes and kissed her back. God, he wanted her. Totally wanted her. Forever.
She pulled away. “I found this.” She took the letter he’d left from her pocket. “You were leaving me.”
He nodded.
“For my own good?”
He grimaced. “It seemed logical at the time.”
Her eyes looked down at the frozen ground. No more snow yet, but Cal could smell it in the air.
“Does it seem logical now?” There were tears in her voice, and he hated that he’d hurt her, that he’d made her cry.
“No.” He shook his head and caught her hand. Dropped to one knee. “Sarah Sullivan. Would you do me the very great honor of becoming my wife?” He pulled the small black velvet box from his back pocket and flipped it open. “I love you—which I also told you in the letter—and when I realized you were in danger today I finally figured out I’m not responsible for everything that happens in this world, and I’d like to do my best to make you happy for as long as we’ve got.”
Her hand trembled as she reached for the ring. “You found the one I wanted.” She touched it reverently. “Oh, Cal, you didn’t really have to get me a ring. I know how expensive it must have been.”
Expensive? Did she really think he gave a damn about the money if this was the one she wanted? He took the ring out of the box and held it out.
She slipped it on her finger. “It fits.”
“Is that a yes?”
She pressed her lips together while he held his breath. “Yes.”
He whooped and jumped to his feet, sweeping her off hers and swinging her high into the air. “She said yes!” he shouted, and the echo bounced back at him from the hills.
He laughed when a cheer went up from down at the ranch house. He kissed her properly then and she kissed him back like she needed to climb inside him. He finally pulled back and looked at the ring sparkling on her finger. “I love you, Sarah Sullivan. As much as I’d like to go back to the cottage and peel off that dress inch by inch, I think we better go join the family.”
She smiled up at him and touched his face. “How could you ever imagine I’d be better off without you?”
He touched his forehead to hers. “Cowboys aren’t as smart as ER docs.”
“Oh.” Her eyes went wide. “I have something to tell you…” She took his
hand and told him of her plans to take over the local family practice as they walked down the hill.
When they got to the main house the others rushed out of the front door and surrounded him with hugs and backslaps. How could he have thought he could leave this all behind? How could he have thought he had a right to make other people’s decisions for them? They were all in this together. He glanced from Eliza’s grinning face to Ryan’s knowing smile. They’d been to hell and back and were still here fighting. Cal made his way to his fiancée, who was being hugged by her big brother. Cal tugged her away, picked her up, and kissed her thoroughly in front of everyone.
“Merry Christmas, Sarah,” he said when they came up for air.
“Is Santa here yet, Unca Nat?” he heard Tabitha pipe up excitedly. None of the kids from the daycare had been hurt or had even heard gunfire, thank goodness.
Nat picked up his niece, tossed her in the air so she squealed with joy. “Not yet, kiddo. But Sarah and Cal both got to open one of their presents early. How about we all go peek under the tree and sneak one present before we eat supper?”
Tabitha squealed and led the way. They all followed her into the den.
Sarah held Cal back for a moment and squeezed his hand. “I did get exactly what I wanted for Christmas.” A light sparkled in her eyes just before she gave him another tender kiss on the side of his mouth. “And I’m not talking about the ring, cowboy.”
Dear Reader
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Her ~ Romantic Suspense Series
HER SANCTUARY (Book #1)
Running for her life, ex-FBI agent Elizabeth Ward escapes to Montana with a new identity. She craves peace and solitude, but instead finds handsome rancher, Nat Sullivan.
Nat is trying to hold his ailing family together, while struggling to keep the ranch from bankruptcy. The last thing he needs is a beautiful stranger reminding him there is more to life than work.
But Elizabeth isn’t what she seems. And when a murderer and rapist track her down to the remote ranch, they all find out about the power of revenge.
Revenge or Redemption. Which would you choose?
HER LAST CHANCE (Book #2)
Marsh and Josie’s story.
Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence finalist 2014
Eighteen years ago the Blade Hunter found his first victim on the streets of New York City.
As a child Josephine Maxwell was attacked and left for dead. She learned the hard way that life is a constant struggle for survival. She can’t waste time pining over a man she can’t have. Now the killer has returned, and the only person who can save her is the FBI agent she deceived and betrayed six months ago.
Now he’s back to finish the job.
Special Agent-in-Charge Marshall Hayes has made it his life’s work to fight on the side of law and order, even though it cost him the only woman he ever loved. The return of a serial killer gives him the excuse he needs to force his way back into her life. But in order to catch the killer and safeguard Josie’s life, he has to break all the rules and risk losing his heart again.
Read the start of Toni Anderson’s newest Cold Justice Series book…
COLD LIGHT OF DAY
©Toni Anderson
“I FEEL SICK,” Scarlett Stone warned in a sharp undertone to her lifelong best friend, Angelina LeMay.
“They don’t know who you are,” Angel responded with a pat on her arm. “Relax and enjoy yourself for a change. I can’t believe you actually came with me, but I love you for it.”
Her friend wouldn’t be quite so understanding if she knew what Scarlett had hidden in her panties. She took a gulp of champagne. This was a stupid idea. Who did she think she was—James Bond?
The thought shot fear through her bloodstream. Too close to home. Too real.
But this wasn’t spying on State secrets. She was investigating an old crime, looking for the truth before it was too late. No one would help her. God knew, she’d begged every one of them over the years and they’d all refused. Now it was up to her.
The reception room where the Russian Ambassador to the United States was hosting his annual Christmas party looked like the inside of a palace, with fantastically high ceilings, icy white walls inlaid with gold detail, and two huge chandeliers shining like a galaxy of tiny stars. A grand piano off to one side was being played quietly in the background. The subtle scents of pine mingled with perfume and the spice of mulled wine—the effect cloying, yet oddly nostalgic. The place was crowded. The sense of opulence and history, staggering.
Until 1994, the ambassador’s residence had been the Russian Embassy and reeked of a rich clandestine history of secret power struggles. Fitting under the circumstances. Her father had told her the KGB used to operate out of two trailers in the back yard, in the shadow of the huge Washington Post building. She didn’t know where the KGB’s modern-day equivalent, the SVR, was secreted and she hoped she never found out.
Angel’s parents—her father was Congressman Adam LeMay—had received an invitation to tonight’s Christmas party but hadn’t wanted to attend. Angel had begged Scarlett to take the place of her sister who was hiking in the Mojave Desert. Considering the new ambassador was Andrei Anatoly Dorokhov, Scarlett hadn’t been able to refuse, no matter how dangerous and desperate her plan might be. She had no choice.
She took another drink. She needed a little Dutch courage, maybe even a sedative.
“Scar, don’t look now,” Angel’s voice dropped to low and breathless, “but I think my future husband just walked in the door.”
Angel LeMay fell in lust on a regular basis.
“I hope you’ll be very happy together,” Scarlett said without turning.
“Navy dinner dress blues and a gold cummerbund.” Her friend fanned herself with her free hand. “I am in love.”
“I thought you were only getting married for money?” Scarlett teased.
Angel flashed her dimples. “I’ll make an exception for a war hero, and anyway, he might be loaded.”
Angel might be her best friend, but it didn’t mean Scarlett was blind to her flaws. Her parents indulged her every whim. She “worked” on Capitol Hill in her father’s office, doing God only knew what—answering the mail if tonight was any indication. Scarlett figured brain atrophy explained most of Angel’s poor choice in men. Not that hers was much better. Lab rats and academics were the only guys she dated, and “dated” was an optimistic term. “Grabbed coffee with between experiments” was probably more accurate.
Over Angel’s shoulder, Scarlett watched another guy wearing a black tux making his way toward them. His intense coal-eyed gaze never left her friend’s butt. Angel was wearing a little black dress, with the emphasis on “little.” Few men could resist and fewer tried. He looked up and caught Scarlett watching him. A dimple appeared in one cheek and ebony eyes twinkled. No remorse that she’d caught him ogling her friend’s ass. Just that sense of entitlement that if he wanted to stare, no one was going to stop him. Confident and powerful. Somewhere in his late twenties, early thirties, the man had player written all over his handsome face.
He walked up and introduced himself. “Welcome to the home of the Russian Ambassador to the United States. May I say it is a pleasure to welcome such beautiful young ladies. My name is Sergio Raminski, the ambassador’s personal assistant.” His Ws sounded vaguely V-like, but apart from that his accent was perfect.
He looked more like a bodyguard than any personal assistant she’d ever seen, but maybe she was paranoid. Actually there was no maybe about it. A shiver of unease hummed over Scarlett’s skin. If ever there was a candidate for foreign intelligence agent, Raminski was it.
According to her dad, a portion of the embassy staff here were actually agents for the Kremlin, the same way some of the Americans in Moscow did more than stamp passports. Angel introduced herself and then introduced Scarlett as her sister, Sarah. Scarlett’s nerdy appearance had been overhauled by a pro, something Angel had been doing at every opportunity since kindergarten. She and Sarah looked vaguely alike now that Angel had plastered her with makeup and pulled back her hair. Scarlett had borrowed a strapless, silver gown that shimmered in the candlelight. The skirt had a net petticoat and double layers of gathered silk which flounced around her knees. Four-inch heels meant she was almost chin-level to most of the guys in the room.
Sergio bowed first over Angel’s hand, then Scarlett’s. When she tried to let go, he surprised her by holding tight for a moment, making her pulse skip a beat, though not in a good way. A blush heated her cheeks and she pulled firmly away.
“Your father was unable to attend?” Sergio asked.
Scarlett’s mouth gaped.
Angel stepped in. “After the Vice President’s funeral today he felt a little unwell. He sends his apologies.”
Scarlett swallowed the knot that had formed in her throat. Her father was the real reason she was here.
“Nothing serious, I hope?” Black eyes were alight with interest.
Insider knowledge is always of interest to Russian officials no matter how seemingly mundane—her father’s warnings flashed through her mind.
“Just something he ate at lunch.” Angel smiled. She was a pro at lying and manipulation to get what she wanted. From the hard light in his eyes, Scarlett bet money Raminski was better.
Her Risk To Take Page 7
