Wes ducked as the gun was leveled at him again. Another gunshot.
A miss.
He closed the last few yards between him and George and put on an extra burst of speed. He lowered his good shoulder and slammed into George, knocking the older man back a full body length from Jessica and laying him out flat in the sand. Wes dived for George, but the man rolled clear and jumped to his feet more quickly than Wes anticipated.
The bastard took off running down the dock and leaped into a speedboat.
Wes let him go and, instead, scrambled over to Jessica. Please, God, let her be alive.
He fell to his knees beside her and reached for her neck, searching frantically for a pulse. She was so damned still. Be alive, be alive, be alive.
His fingertips felt a heartbeat. Another one. It was slow. Thready. But it was there.
Behind him a motor roared and Wes glanced over his shoulder in time to see George accelerate away from the dock in a sleek motorboat.
Frantically, Wes ran his hands over Jessica’s body, searching for wounds. For bleeding. For any life-threatening injury. “It’s me, baby. It’s Wes. I’ve got you. You’re safe. Open your eyes for me, Jess. I love you, dammit.”
Her eyelids fluttered.
“That’s it. Look at me. You can do it,” he begged.
She whispered something, but he couldn’t hear it. He leaned down close and put his ear right next to her mouth. She whispered hoarsely, “Say it again.”
He pushed up enough to look down at her. “Say what again?”
Her voice was a little stronger. “That you love me, you moron.”
“Oh—that. I love you, Jess. Always have. Always will.”
She smiled a little then and closed her eyes again.
Alarmed, he ordered her, “Stay with me! Don’t close your eyes.”
One eye peeled open. “Shh. Not so loud. Head hurts.”
He rolled his eyes, torn between laughter and exasperation. “You may have a concussion, baby. I need you to stay awake. Can you do that for me?”
She looked up at him, starlight kissing her features with otherworldly beauty. “I love you, too.”
He smiled down at her. “I would kiss you right now, but I don’t want to move you until we know you don’t have any serious injuries.”
“Kiss me anyway.”
He bent down and very carefully, very gently, kissed her. In spite of everything she’d been through, her mouth opened hungrily against his, seeking more from him. And Lord, he was tempted to give it. Her hands still cuffed together, she slipped them over his head and around his neck. He winced as fiery pain shot through his left shoulder. And his shirt felt wet against his skin.
Quickly, she yanked her hands over his head and used her fingertips to carefully pluck away the torn and bloody fabric of his shirt.
He looked down and was relieved to see that it looked as if he’d been winged. A furrow in his skin bled freely, but the joint moved normally, and he didn’t see a bullet hole.
A single gunshot rang out loudly across the lake behind them and they both jumped hard.
“Oh, no,” she said softly, as if she’d just absorbed a terrible blow.
And then it hit him what that shot signified.
“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.” He did gather her up in his arms then, as carefully as he could.
Tears ran down her cheeks unchecked. He completely understood. Her father had clearly been mentally ill and might have just tried to kill her, but he was still her father and, furthermore, her only living parent.
They clung to each other for a long time, grieving the death of her father. George might have been a bad man, an emotionally unbalanced man, but he’d been her father and a human being. His death was still a tragedy. Wes hated George for the suffering he’d put Jessica through—including this last, terrible blow. But Wes vowed to himself that he would protect Jessica from experiencing any more pain like this. Ever.
He was surprised to taste salt in his own mouth and realized tears were running down his face, as well. George Blankenship had been a force of nature, and this was a tragic way for his story to end. Anything that caused Jessica pain caused him pain, too.
He held Jessica in his arms, sharing warmth and silent comfort with her until he heard a siren in the distance.
Jessica roused herself and surprised him by saying, “There’s something I have to do before anyone else gets here.”
“What’s that?”
“I set a goal for myself when I was tied up and didn’t know if I was going to live. If I got free, I promised myself I would do it.”
“Anything, Jessica. If it’s in my power to make it happen for you, I will.”
If he didn’t know better, he would say it was a twinkle that entered her eyes. “Oh, you can make it happen.”
“Name it.”
“Wes Morgan, will you marry me?”
He stared down at her. His mind went totally hard-core, blue-screen-of-doom blank. “Marry? You?” he sputtered.
The twinkle in her eyes started to fade. “Never mind—”
“Yes, I’ll marry you!” he exclaimed. “Hell, yes!”
Her entire face lit up this time. “You’re not just saying that because I almost died, and my dad just died, and you’re trying to make me feel better?”
“Now who’s the moron? No, baby. I said yes because I want to wake up beside you every morning for the rest of my life and fall asleep beside you every night. I want every last cow on my farm to have a ridiculous name, and I want children—our children—lots of them. I want flowers on the kitchen table and girly underwear hanging in my shower. You can even hang decorated wreaths on my carved front door. I want to spend my youth with you and be with you in my old age. I want it all, Jess.”
“Funny, but that’s exactly what I had in mind. Except not the wreaths. Your carving is too pretty to cover up.”
And so it was, when Joe Westlake and the park ranger pulled up behind them, that Wes and Jessica were laughing and crying together.
And so it was, that out of trauma and tragedy, they found light. And hope. And happily-ever-after.
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781488071416
The Cowboy’s Deadly Reunion
Copyright © 2021 by Cynthia Dees
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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Davis nodded as he pressed his lips gently to hers.
The kiss was tender, until it wasn’t, every ounce of emotion the two were feeling for each other exploding between them. Falling back against the cushions, he pulled Neema down with him. As she fell against the expanse of his chest, his hands danced down the length of her arms and across her back. The tips of his fingers rested against the curve of her buttocks, heat burning beneath the tips. Her arms snaked around his shoulders and back, her hands clinging to him hungrily as her mouth twisted and turned with his. The kiss had become frenetic, both anxious for each other’s touch.
When he shifted his body beneath hers, Neema straddling his legs, there was no hiding the rise of nature that pressed against the front of his slacks for attention. His excitement was on full display as he pressed himself against her.
Neema suddenly sat upright, pulling a closed fist to her mouth. “I’m sorry. There’s something we need to talk about first,” she started. “There’s something important I need to tell you.”
* * *
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Dear Reader,
Let me start by first saying thank you. Thank you for being so supportive of me and my writing. Thank you for waiting so patiently for this installment of the Black family series. I can’t begin to tell you how much that means to me.
Stalked by Secrets is the story of Neema Kamau and Davis Black. Davis is the youngest son in my fictional family, and although he doesn’t wear a badge, as the city alderman, he is very much dedicated to his Chicago constituents.
I loved breathing life into Davis and the enigmatic Neema. The two challenged me during a time when I didn’t appreciate having one more thing added to my list of must-do’s. But they were exactly what I needed, and I hope they do for you what they did for me. I hope you will enjoy them together as much as I enjoyed writing them!
Thank you again for your support. I am humbled by all the love you show me, my characters and our stories. I know that none of this would be possible without you.
Until the next time, please take care and may God’s blessings be with you always.
With much love,
Deborah Fletcher Mello
Stalked by Secrets
Deborah Fletcher Mello
A true Renaissance woman, Deborah Fletcher Mello finds joy in crafting unique story lines and memorable characters. She’s received accolades from several publications, including Publishers Weekly, Library Journal and RT Book Reviews. Born and raised in Connecticut, Deborah now considers home to be wherever the moment moves her.
Books by Deborah Fletcher Mello
Harlequin Romantic Suspense
To Serve and Seduce
Seduced by the Badge
Tempted by the Badge
Reunited by the Badge
Stalked by Secrets
Colton 911: Grand Rapids
Colton 911: Agent By Her Side
Harlequin Kimani Romance
Truly Yours
Hearts Afire
Twelve Days of Pleasure
My Stallion Heart
Stallion Magic
Tuscan Heat
A Stallion’s Touch
A Pleasing Temptation
Sweet Stallion
To Tempt a Stallion
A Stallion Dream
Visit the Author Profile page at
Harlequin.com for more titles.
To Bubba, Biscuit, Gravy and Titus.
Woof, woof, boys! Woof, woof!
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
CHAPTER 1
Davis Black stormed into the kitchen of his parents’ home. He slammed the stack of dirty dishes he carried into the sink, pausing as they crashed harshly against the bottom of the metal pan. He was super pissed, rage rushing through his system with a vengeance he hadn’t known possible. It was emotion he was struggling to contain least he lash out and hurt someone. He clenched his hands into tight fists, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. His jaw was tight, the muscles in his face beginning to throb. To release the wealth of tension, he screamed at the top of his lungs, his rage spewing in a deep guttural roar that had him sounding like a wounded animal ready to attack. The family members in the other room went quiet and Davis shrieked again.
He was furious but didn’t know who he wanted to be mad at more. His mother, who had just announced he and his siblings had a long-lost brother that no one knew about. His older brother, Mingus, who’d just called him out in front of the whole family, threatening to expose a secret he had no interest in sharing. Or the rest of the Black family brood, all acting as if nothing in the world was wrong with any of them. Toss in the fact that someone was trying to blackmail his parents, putting the entire family at risk, and he was ready to spit nails.
Davis was thoroughly irritated that he hadn’t been able to respond to his mother’s news or his brother’s pronouncement; instead, made to bite his tongue and check his attitude. His father and his other siblings had been quick to chastise him, putting him on blast for his insolence. Now, what he wanted most was to punch something. Or someone. Hard.
The family’s Sunday dinner to celebrate Simone’s release from the hospital had not been without the usual dramatics that seemed to follow the Blacks. Six weeks earlier his youngest sister, an attorney, had been shot in a drive-by, the bullet intended for the father of her unborn child. The two had been preparing to announce a major lawsuit against a drug company they claimed was poisoning its patients with contaminated product. Simone’s boyfriend, Dr. Paul Reilly, had discovered the crime and now the two were local heroes in the medical community.
Sitting around the table breaking bread was supposed to be so much about normalizing their lives yet, more times than not, it was everything but normal. With his parents and his brothers all working for the Chicago judicial system, they spent most of their time on edge, chasing demons that threatened the peace and quiet throughout the city. These mandatory family gatherings inevitably left one or more of them deep in their feelings and tonight was no exception. Davis hadn’t thought it possible, but his family had finally taken dysfunction to a whole other level.
Now, every one of them, his brothers Mingus, Parker, Ellington and Armstrong, and his sister Vaughan were headed to their respective homes feeling like they’d been slapped with a sledgehammer. Davis didn’t include Simone because with her, he was never sure what he might get. Things that rattled the rest of them sometimes barely registered on his sister’s emotional radar.
Davis heaved a soft sigh as he leaned against the counter. He was emotionally exhausted, and seriously considering taking a break from his family. Between his parents’ expectations, the sibling rivalry that really wasn’t supposed to be a competition and trying to figure out what he needed for his own life, he was simply tired. He took a deep breath, held it deep in his lungs before blowing it back out. He was just about to hea
d back into the dining room when Armstrong and Parker came through the door.
“I just wanted to check on you before Danni and I take off,” Armstrong said. “It sounded like you were having a hard time in here.”
“I’m good,” Davis muttered. He and his brother exchanged a look before Davis dropped his eyes to the tiled floor.
A moment passed before Armstrong nodded. “I also wanted to apologize. I didn’t mean to snap at you the way I did.”
Davis shrugged. “I shouldn’t have spoken to Mom like that.” He thought about the tone he’d taken with their mother after her announcement and contrition furrowed his brow.
“No, you shouldn’t have,” Parker agreed. “But we understand. It was a shock and we all have questions.”
“And Mom will answer them as soon as she’s able. She’s always been honest with us about everything,” Armstrong added.
“Obviously not about this,” Davis snapped, his arms folded tightly across his chest. “If she had been, there would be no way anyone would think they could blackmail her with the information.”
The brothers all exchanged anxious glances, everything about the situation unsettling.
“No,” Judith Harmon Black said as she suddenly entered the room. “I wasn’t up-front about this because I had no intention of ever telling any of you. This was not something I ever thought I’d have to deal with again. It’s a moment in my life that I’m not proud of. And it’s a moment in my life that I had put behind me.”
An awkward silence descended over the room. Judith moved to Davis’s side and pressed her palm to his cheek, the gesture meant to be comforting. Davis was her baby boy, the youngest of her brood. He was also the most sensitive, taking every one of their issues to heart even when it had nothing at all to do with him. His mother understood his frustrations better than anyone, and he knew that it hurt her heart to see him struggle. She leaned to kiss his cheek.
Harlequin Romantic Suspense March 2021 Page 70