by Karen Rock
She was about to ask him how long…how long before he left, since they’d caught Al Monitor and thwarted the plot, but he lowered his face and brushed her lips with his.
“Was that a goodbye kiss?” she asked when she caught her breath. “Are you heading back to Syria soon?”
“That was a thank you for loving me, all of me, kiss.” He drew her closer and gently captured her mouth again. He kissed her softly. Tenderly. And when he pulled away, her entire body trembled with emotion.
“And that one?”
“That one?” His eyes twinkled down at her like golden stars. “Means you’re right about me.”
“Oh.” She let herself soak up the moment. The beautiful words she’d heard earlier echoed in her ears. She hadn’t dreamed them…couldn’t have. “And what am I right about exactly?”
“Everything.” His head tilted to the right, and the intensity of his stare increased until she imagined he could see right through her. “But mostly, that I love you.”
“S-say it again,” she demanded, her body melting into his arms.
“I love you,” he said. “You, Erica Keely.” He framed her face with his hands, his expression so tender she wanted to both laugh and cry, jump and swoon, stop time and speed it forward to all of the happy moments she glimpsed ahead of them. “I was wrong not to say it before, and if you’d died without hearing those words, I would have wanted to die, too.”
“I heard you speaking before, except I thought I was dreaming.” Every cell in her body opened up like a flower that had been denied sun and water for far too long.
“You’re the only one who understands me, the only one who knows my heart…. I love you.” He dipped his head to the space between her neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply. “God. Now that I’ve started saying it, I can’t stop.”
“That could get annoying.” The teasing words bubbled out of her. “But I like the sound of that.”
“I’m glad.” Flecks of amber darkened Ryan’s eyes. “I like it, too.”
She sobered, recalling Ryan’s past admonishments to temper her reckless side. “If I’d died, I never would have heard any of this.”
“But you didn’t.”
She smoothed a hand over her wrinkled blanket. “I should have considered my safety before following Hatcher, because I put your life in danger, too. From now on, I’m playing it safe.”
Ryan’s brows inched up his forehead, disappearing under his hair. “Too bad.”
“Too bad?”
“Chief Raismann stopped by to talk to you.”
Her heart stumbled. “The chief of the CIA? Here?”
Ryan nodded.
“But why?” She remembered a woman’s voice from earlier. She’d said Erica had made the agency proud.
A warm, traffic-stopping smiled teased up Ryan’s lips. “You’re considered quite the hero, Agent Keely.”
“I’m not an agent.” She dropped her gaze and swallowed hard, hating to be reminded of what had once separated them. “Not anymore.”
“Seems you still are. The CIA’s had a change of heart now that the Amman intel you gathered proved correct.”
She lifted her gaze, meeting his, and she saw the truth in his eyes. “No shit.”
“In light of that, and your brilliant intelligence work here in Dallas, they’re reconsidering your employment termination.” His fingers tightened slightly around hers. “Chief said a suspension would have been more appropriate after all…which, technically you’ve served. They want to reinstate you as a field agent.”
His words knocked the wind out of her, and it took her a moment to gather herself. “How are they going to explain my two-year absence?”
And why was she challenging this gift, this chance to return to the career of her dreams, with the man of her dreams by her side… As a couple, they couldn’t work on the same missions, but she’d be in the field just like him and that camaraderie, that sense of not being left behind, gave her the equal footing with a partner she craved. So as for her inner naysayer…she’d shut that bitch up right quick.
Ryan dropped his chin to the top of her head. “Officially, you were deep undercover, tracking down the lead you got in Amman that led the CIA to Hatcher, the weapons suppliers, and the al-Nusra plot.”
Reveling in the warmth of his arms, she nuzzled closer. “And what’s our status…officially?”
“If you’ll have me…man and wife. Erica Keely, you’re the only one in the world for me. Share it with me. I’m not perfect, but I promise to be the best parts of me that fit perfectly with the best parts of you.”
“Have I mentioned that I love you, too?” she whispered, her voice thickening to molasses. It rolled off her tongue heavy and sweet.
“I recall you saying something about it. But maybe you could say it again.”
She flashed a wicked grin. “I might. Or I might just show you.”
“I don’t think you’re in any condition for that right now,” he chuckled, a sexy gleam in his eyes. “But I’ll take you up on that offer soon.”
She eyed her casts and wondered how long before those suckers came off. “Very soon.”
“I love you, Erica.” His golden eyes shimmered into hers, and he took a deep breath. “You’re the first person I’ve ever said it to, and you’ll be the last. The only one…besides our children, if you want them.”
“Ryan…” Her throat tightened with emotion.
The sincerity of his words shook her.
She’d been slowly falling for him since the first day he’d walked into Dallas Heat, fighting it with everything she had—afraid he would hurt her again, afraid she might hurt him. “I love you, too. It scares me to death, but I won’t back down.”
“Neither will I.” He kissed her softly. “I want a partner. A best friend. I think we’ve got that. I mean, I want to make love to you nonstop, but at the end of the day, what I really want is someone who’s there for me, someone I can be there for, too, who’ll hold my hand and love me for me, and let me love them.”
“I want that, too, Ryan. So much.”
“So…you’ll marry me?”
“Yes.” With a small cry of joy, she kissed this man she’d love forever. The road ahead might not be smooth, she recognized that, but it was going to be the adventure of a lifetime. One she couldn’t wait to start.
And when his hand slid through her hair and he intensified the kiss, she forgot about the exotic places and dangerous situations waiting in the future. There was only now, this moment, and the love written in both their hearts, strong enough to carry them through anything and everything.
Together.
Don’t miss the first book in the Dallas After Dark series.
Detective Blake Knight has been undercover before. But an assignment to bust a steroid ring running out of Dallas’s elite male strip club means his new cover will be nothing but his own taut muscles and oiled skin. It’s one thing for the tough, by-the-books agent to take down bad guys with his gun. Facing a rowdy crowd in only a G-string is another story…especially in front of his new boss, gorgeous, mysterious Reese Landon.
Her father’s club and shady business practices bring back terrible memories for Reese. But when he’s shot and goes into a coma, she vows to protect him the way he never did for her. That means keeping the police at a distance—especially sexy, driven Detective Knight. If she has to give him a cover job, it would be a crime not to put that glorious ass on stage. But no matter how good he looks in a Velcro uniform, she can’t trust him, or give into the undeniable heat between them. They’re both chasing the truth. And it might expose more than either wants to show . . .
Keep reading for a special excerpt of Reese and Blake’s story.
Order Dangerous Moves, on sale now!
Visit us at www.kensingtonbooks.com
Teaser Chapter
A brisk knock sounded a couple hours later. Reese rubbed bleary eyes and minimized a puzzling bank statement on her father’s laptop. “Come in!”
A tall, well-built man sauntered across the threshold, his lithe, animal grace drawing her eye. Kept her looking. He halted a few feet from her desk and the left side of his mouth rose before the right in a roguish smile, revealing slightly pointy canines and C-shaped dimples in lean cheeks. His smooth, caramel-colored skin got her wondering how he’d taste.
Oh. My.
He was the definition of eye candy.
“Ms. Landon?”
“Yes?” She shoved her messy hair behind her ears and tried not to stare. Try being the operative word, since she failed miserably. Despite a slightly crooked nose, pronounced jaw, and strong forehead over watchful blue eyes, his rugged features added up to an arresting face. He moved like a dancer but resembled a boxer, the strange, heady combination sending her blood somersaulting in her veins.
“May I?” He gestured to the door.
“I prefer it open, Mr.—”
He ran a hand over his close-cropped dark hair. “I’d rather keep that to myself with the door open…listeners lurking.”
Her breath stalled. The wolves circled already. Was he her father’s shooter? He resembled a hit man. The kind of guy movie scripts referred to as “the muscle.” Was he here to collect money her father owed? Her dad had borrowed from loan sharks before.
Reese snatched up her phone. “I’d like two coffees in my office now, please.” Her eyebrows rose at the man’s startled expression. She covered the mouthpiece. “Cream? Sugar?”
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking like she’d caught him off balance. Good. Maybe she had. Either way, he couldn’t attack her with beverage service arriving any moment.
“Black.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of well-worn jeans, the faded material riding low on narrow hips.
“Two black coffees, thanks.” She set the phone in the cradle and pointed to the chair in front of her father’s desk.
He slid into it, dwarfing the piece. “I’d appreciate a moment with you in private, Ms. Landon.”
“I’m sure you would,” she answered smoothly, doing her best to act like she spoke with petty criminals every day. He might not be one. Yet something about him—an electricity, the way his eyes lasered in on her—made her jumpy and aware, maybe even a little afraid, if the goose bumps on her arms were any sign.
“What can I do for you?” Her fingernails dug into the desk’s soft underside. The wall safe caught her eye.
Suddenly, a badge appeared in his hand. The metal gleamed, sharp and bright, against his calloused palm. In the next instant, it vanished. What the hell? She’d never met an officer who looked like a thug before. Just the clean-cut, starched-uniform types.
One who’d acted like a criminal, she amended.
The bartender arrived, carrying a small tray with steaming mugs of coffee. A red rose in a bud vase bloomed beside them. He shoved a cup at the stranger then smiled wide as he handed Reese her coffee and presented her with the flower.
“To brighten your day.”
“Thanks.” She buried her nose in the fragrant bloom, mind racing. Did she want her employee to stay or go?
When her gaze lifted, she met the police officer’s eyes. Humor sparked in them at her bartender’s cheesy bow and, despite her wariness, the twinkle disarmed her.
“That’s all—ah—” Shoot. She didn’t know the guy’s name.
He swung his empty tray by his side. “I’m Bryan, with a y, though there’s no question about me. I’m a sure thing.”
She sputtered on her sip of coffee, and the cop’s lips twitched. Did this crap actually work on women?
“Good to know, Bryan with a y,” she said evenly. “I’ll call if I need anything else.”
He flipped back his tousled bangs and squinted at her, Blue Steel–style, before stalking from the room. She blew out a breath and shook her head. Bryan came on stronger than the coffee.
“The guy’s got game,” the officer observed smoothly, then gulped his drink, a playful look in his eyes.
“Do you think he practices those lines, or comes up with them on the spot?” She clamped her mouth shut. What the hell was she doing joking around with a cop?
He lowered his coffee and grinned. “To achieve that degree of sophistication, I’d say no thought whatsoever.”
Laughter bubbled inside and bulged her cheeks as she held it back. She had to give it to the officer, he was funny…but he was still a cop, she reminded herself.
The officer’s face grew sober. He pointed at the door again. “May I? What I have to say is sensitive.”
She nodded, wary but intrigued. He was a strange mixture of business and play, turning those sides of himself on and off at whiplash speed.
Another fortifying gulp of coffee perked her up, the bitter black starching her spine. Whatever this cop had for her, she was ready.
Bring it.
“What can I do for you, Officer—” she asked after he’d checked the area beyond her door, closed it, and resumed his seat.
“Knight. Blake Knight. I’m a detective with the Dallas Police Department’s narcotics unit.”
She set down her mug. “Interesting uniform…” And a sexy one, considering the way his white tee stretched across his broad chest. The fitted shirt revealed taut, shifting abdominals whenever he moved, or breathed, or—oh, God. Was she staring? Again? She forced her eyes upward and caught the alluring sparkle in his eyes. Yep. She’d been staring.
Busted.
“Glad you like it.” His deep rumble of a voice filled the room, amusement edging each word.
Get a grip, girl. She pulled her chair closer to the desk and lifted her chin.
“So, you’re the one who’s been calling me all day.” She arched an eyebrow. “Can’t take a hint?”
“I don’t take no for an answer.” His deep blue eyes sunk into hers.
A shiver of awareness danced down her spine at his calm, assured expression. She sensed a lethal force behind that easy smile. A man who took what he wanted and caught what he chased.
If she was his target, though, he’d be disappointed. Time to turn the tables and pursue the information she needed. “What can you tell me about my dad, beyond where and when he was shot?”
“Without a witness, there isn’t much. My officers are following up on a few leads. That’s all we’ve got for now.”
“Thanks for the information-filled update. Be sure to have Bryan validate your parking on the way out.” She returned her attention to her dad’s computer and tapped its keyboard by way of dismissal, frustrated at Officer Knight’s caginess. He had to know more than he said.
“I’m leading a steroids-ring investigation in this area,” he continued without missing a beat. “We’ve recently lost our informant.”
“What does this have to do with my family?”
He drummed his fingertips together, his eyes unreadable. “Your father was our informant.”
Shock waves ran through her.
“S-say that again.”
“Your father agreed to cooperate with us.”
A haze clouded her vision. “And why would he work with you?”
“Because we threatened to shut down the club for serving minors.”
She bolted to her feet, her body shaking. “You’ve been blackmailing him? Making him cooperate in an investigation that could get him killed? Do you know how far he’ll go to keep this club afloat? Since my mother passed, this is all he has.”
And me, though he’d never seen it that way, no matter how hard she’d tried snagging his attention, winning his approval. Maybe if she caught his killer, things would finally change between them, and she’d have the loving father who’d practically disappeared afte
r her mother died. The one she missed, wanted and still needed.
“Please. Calm down, Ms. Landon.” He spread his hands, the cursory gesture not reassuring her one bit. “And accept my sympathies for what happened to your father.
Her teeth ground together. “I need answers, Detective, not your pity. I’m assuming you’ve connected your case with my dad’s attack?”
He nodded. “I can’t share much, but yes. I need your help.”
“You’re asking for favors, but won’t give me anything in return. In what universe does that work?”
When he leaned in close, unease swept through her. More than his impressive height and build, something in his bearing spoke of back-alley fights and knives in the dark. “Assassin” fit him better than “officer.” Maybe he wasn’t as different from Officer Bates as she thought. They faced each other for a long moment, separated by the desk, their breaths coming short and fast as they stared each other down.
His wide shoulders lifted and fell. “Justice is all I care about. Fairness isn’t a consideration.”
“Bryan with a y would get more cooperation from me than you,” she fired back.
“Bryan isn’t going to catch your father’s shooter, is he?” He angled his face, jaw tight.
She didn’t so much sit as her legs buckled. “No,” she admitted at last. “Though there isn’t much I can tell you, either.” Or not a lot that she would. If she let them snoop around the business, serving minors might be the least of the offenses leading to Dallas Heat’s shutdown.
Officer Knight propped a sneaker over his opposite knee. “A uniform will be down to question you about your father. I’m after something else altogether.”
She stopped fiddling with the loose knob on the desk drawer and stared at him. “And what would that be?” Despite her best attempt, her voice came out hushed, a slight quiver on the end. If he didn’t want information, it’d be something much more dangerous.
His tense expression grew uneasy, shamefaced. What appeared to be embarrassment softened his brutish face.
“I need a job.”