Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 105825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
The guys I knew back in New York, with their manicures, ski trips, and tennis club memberships, so desperate to impress…suddenly I saw them for what they were: boys.
This was a man.
His eyes narrowed, drinking in every detail of me, then flared with a heat that scalded my skin. I gulped and flushed. Guys like him don’t look at me that way. No guys look at me that way.
He glanced at the scene around us and I saw his jaw harden. Then he turned back to me with a look of such raw, protective fury that I just melted. I stared back at him, open and vulnerable.
And saw his eyes flicker. For a heartbeat, I saw what he hid.
Pain. Unbelievable, soul-tearing pain.
He looked away. Looked back and now he was stoic. Guarded. “‘Name’s JD,” he told me in a deep, Texas growl. “And I’m gonna get you the hell out of here.”
2
JD
Two Minutes Earlier
I was in heaven.
I’d leaned my chair back against the low wall that surrounded the bar’s terrace. The afternoon sun was beating down, warming me to my bones. I had my Stetson tilted forward to shield my face and my eyes were closed. A chilled glass was in my hand and as I inhaled, I smelled fresh lime juice, clean and innocent as a schoolteacher on her way to church. But underneath was the twisting, heady scent of tequila and triple sec, a pair of sultry maidens who’d tempt you into an alley before knocking you over the head…and you wouldn’t care at all. This place made margaritas like nowhere else on the planet and I was going to savor this one.
I sipped and gave a long groan of satisfaction. There was a giggle and a waft of perfume as Camila, the waitress, walked past. She’d been flirting outrageously with me all afternoon, despite being half my age. Probably because she sensed—correctly—that this grumpy old gringo wouldn’t let things go beyond flirting. A band was on later and hell, maybe I’d even dance, once I’d had a few drinks, but then I’d head back to my hotel alone.
This place: the slow pace, the drinks, and especially the heat, was exactly what I’d needed after Siberia. Earlier that year, I’d wound up captured and imprisoned there in a former Soviet gulag, shivering through the nights under a thin blanket, and this was the first time I’d felt properly warm since.
I’d needed a vacation but stepping away from Stormfinch Security, the private military team I head, hadn’t been easy. My best buddy Danny and my little sister Erin had had to poke me for months before I’d finally given in and booked a flight. I told myself it was because I was nervous about leaving Danny in charge but I knew that wasn’t it. Danny had proven he could be trusted—hell, I even trusted him enough to let him date my sister, although the way they’d secretly gotten together had driven me crazy at the time.
The real reason I hadn’t wanted to go on vacation was because the team had become like a family. And when I was away from them, it reminded me that they were the only ones I had.
At that second, there was the roar of a car engine and a rush of air threatened to suck my Stetson off my head. I reluctantly opened my eyes to see two black SUVs shoot past the bar’s terrace. Tinted windows, chrome polished to a dazzling shine. Money. Some bigwig on his way somewhere.
I was just closing my eyes again when there was a bang of metal on metal. A pickup rammed the lead SUV aside. Then the second SUV slammed into the pickup and men with guns started swarming out of a nearby building. An ambush.
Gunmen started trying to pull someone out of the second SUV, kicking and screaming. I narrowed my eyes against the sun—
A pair of sneakers emerged from the car. Long, denim-clad legs. Then a white blouse stretched tight by full breasts. Long hair whipping around as she struggled—
A woman. They were kidnapping a woman.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was up out of my chair and halfway across the bar’s terrace, reaching for my gun—
My hand closed on thin air. I stumbled to a stop, gaping down at my belt. My gun was back in Colorado. My jaw tightened in fury. This is why I never take vacations!
I grabbed a bottle of tequila from the bar and ran towards the crashed SUVs, my training taking over. I brought the tequila bottle down on the head of one of the gunmen. Grabbed the second guy and slammed his head against the car, then took his gun and shot the third. Then I turned to the woman—
And stopped.
I was looking down into the palest gray eyes I’d ever seen, soft as smoke and glittering with intelligence. She stared up at me and it was like she was studying me, mentally scribbling down every angle and line. Her lips were just slightly parted, blush pink and so soft I had trouble tearing my eyes away.