Bulletproof Princess

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Bulletproof Princess Page 21

by Craig, Alexis D.


  “No place I’d rather be,” he repeated softly, jade green eyes seemingly taking in her every inch.

  As if he sensed the growing electricity between them, Bobby politely excused himself and left for his rounds. Their being alone together made the cavernous hallway seem as minuscule as a hall closet.

  “So…” they both started at the same time, eliciting nervous chuckles.

  He gestured that she should start and stood up straight, propped up by a sturdy-looking wooden cane, stained a deep brown with a scuffed steel tip. It almost disappeared in the shadows of the hallway, and she wouldn’t have noticed if Mackenzie hadn’t grimaced when he moved.

  “Is that permanent?” she inquired softly, fully aware of her complicity in its presence and aching for it.

  His shrug seemed nonchalant, but the set of his jaw said something else entirely. “For the time being.”

  His voice was soft and not filled with the anger and recriminations she imagined he’d held for her. It was disconcerting to have her suppositions smashed by reality. “Do you need to sit?”

  Rather than answer her directly, he held the door open. “Wanna get outta here?”

  Cassie fired off a text to Trista and followed him to his truck. She noticed the gun under his jacket as he held the door for her to climb inside. A part of her wanted to ask right now, but didn’t want to set off an ‘awkward’ bomb in the close confines of the truck. She thanked him, and he went around to his side and hopped in next to her. “Last time this happened, we ended up in the middle of the desert on a mountain.”

  He dropped his head with a broad grin and gunned the engine. “Yeah, only this time, we’ll just have dinner.” Out on the streets, he headed northbound through some of the more scenic parts of town.

  The quiet of the truck was underscored by the soft music from the speakers. He’d changed the channel to the local country station and left it there, his silence speaking volumes.

  After a show, silence seemed like a punishment of sorts, so she decided to fill it with conversation. “It was really great to see Ange. I’m glad she’s doing well.”

  His eyes never left the road. “She is. I couldn’t be happier for her.”

  “Are you in town for work or just to visit her?” Cassie tried to keep the question light, even if the curiosity that led her to ask it weighed almost as much as she did.

  “I’m in town for you.” His succinct answer, without even the slightest hesitation, was both thrilling and somewhat terrifying.

  “Oh.” Her brain couldn’t really form a response beyond that, whirling with potential outcomes for the evening.

  They pulled into the restaurant parking lot, and he hobbled around to her side to retrieve her. Ever the gentleman, he even handed her down from the truck. The hostess did a double take when she saw them together, but didn’t mention anything as she briskly showed them to the elevator that led to the upstairs bar.

  It was a relaxed atmosphere, which Cassie appreciated, and the encroaching night combined with a table at the far corner of the room preserved their privacy. Their waiter appeared with alacrity, bringing them their selections off the drink menu and some homemade BBQ chips with cheese and bacon. To her, it was heaven on a plate.

  “I live in Savannah now,” he said as he sat back against one of the luxuriously thick leather cushions with his cane at his side.

  She gaped at him for a moment before covering it with her drink. It was cool and tangy, and strong enough to strip paint, exactly what she needed in that moment. “So, you’re not a Marshal anymore?”

  He shook his head as he munched on a chip dipped in blue cheese dressing. “Ange and I both got promoted.”

  “Congratulations,” she murmured.

  Mack nodded his thanks. “Appreciate it. Well, we weren’t really a good fit for the Arizona office anymore, as you can imagine. So Ange became the chief deputy out of the Atlanta office and I moved over to lead the firearms unit at the training academy.”

  She could think of no one more worthy. Still, she said, “You loved your job, Mackenzie.” Cassie worried her lip as she stirred her drink to keep all of its flavors appropriately muddled when they hit her tongue. His whole life had been altered by the mere fact they’d met one night in Vegas. The guilt was almost stifling.

  He sighed and scooted around the curved booth to be closer to her, his arm stretched across the top of the cushion. “I did, I do, but there were,” he looked down at his leg, his cane, before returning his gaze to her, “extenuating circumstances.”

  The tears at his confirmation of her thoughts were unexpected, and her lips trembled as they slid down her cheeks to collect on the napkin in her lap. “I am so, so sorry.”

  His hand slid from the cushion to her shoulder, his fingers winding through her hair as he pulled her closer. “Hey, Cass.” He waited until she looked at him, surprised to see his gentle smile. “It’s okay. Sometimes life has a way of changing when we least expect it. It doesn’t have to be for the bad.”

  “Really?” How she wanted to believe him, moving closer and placing her hand on his knee. God, she’d missed the feel of him, the smell of him, hell, just the sight of him. If she’d heard him correctly, it sounded an awful lot like he was offering not just the forgiveness she’d craved and had yet to give herself, but perhaps even absolution.

  Mack nodded, then bit his lip, looking distinctly less sure. “I came to see you to say I was wrong and I’m sorry.” His voice dropped to a whisper, and he held deathly still like he somehow feared any move he made would send her fleeing into the night.

  “About? For? I don’t understand.” Cassie turned to face him more, her hand on his knee sliding up as she cupped his cheek. He closed his eyes as he turned his face into her touch.

  When he opened his eyes, she could see the resolute determination in them. “Last time I saw you, you said something before you left.”

  Cassie knew what he was referring to, and a part of her had honestly wished he’d been so medicated in that moment he’d missed it. She wasn’t ashamed to have said it, to give words to the feeling flowing through her as naturally as her blood, but the idea that he may not have returned the sentiment ignited her age-old fear of abandonment that was also just as natural to her. She could feel him watching her, his gaze like a touch sliding delicately over her skin.

  “From your silence, you either don’t remember or you don’t want to talk about it.” The disappointment in his voice was plain. He hung his head and heaved a sigh that moved through his entire body.

  When Mack began to move away, the points of contact between them went instantly cold on her. “No.” He stilled, but didn’t look at her. In the biggest case of ‘now or never’ she’d ever experienced, she blurted out in a rush, “I said I loved you. I did, I do, but you don’t need me in your life.”

  He turned suddenly, looking at her like she might be one Danish shy of a box, maybe two. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

  Striving for a reasonable tone, she replied, “Mackenzie, since you’ve met me, you’ve been exiled from your job, shot, maimed, and that was just the first week. I can’t imagine a lifetime together. At the rate I’m going, I’ll have you dead in under a month.”

  He blinked at her after she lapsed into silence, and from the way he twitched occasionally, she worried he might keel over in a seizure and die on her. With her luck, she figured this wonderful night would end in the hospital for them. Again. The first chuckle that escaped was ruthlessly corralled, but the next wave refused to be contained. He bolted up from the table and dragged her with him, his arms around her tightly as he lowered his mouth to hers.

  The kiss was a torrential downpour in a drought, fulfilling, overwhelming, and she was unprepared for the feelings that accompanied it. Love and forgiveness and joy, so much joy. They parted to the sounds of applause from the other diners, and like a rogue, he just winked at them before returning them to their booth. “Cassandra, since you’ve met me, I have also been surpri
sed, attracted, cared for, championed, loved, and then bereft. However, you, you’ve been accosted, absconded, isolated, among many other unspeakable things we won’t get into now, but I would love the opportunity to make it up to you today and every day after.” He rested his forehead on hers, nuzzling his nose against hers. “I love you, and I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you.”

  Cassie had known her life had changed the moment she met Mackenzie, and she’d never been sorry for it. She certainly wasn’t going to start now. Patting his cheek, she picked up her drink. “It’s okay, we’ll just add it to the list.”

  Coming December 18th, 2015 from

  Bestselling Author

  Alexis D. Craig

  A lighthearted romantic comedy with no body count…

  No Such Thing

  Cinderella had it easy…

  Prologue-Liquor? I don’t even know her!

  They’d met in a bar. He was tall, dark, and inescapably British, from his manners down to the tailoring of his trendy but definitely bespoke oxblood leather coat. It was his smile that caught her attention, pulled her out of the mire of her thoughts and emotional convalescence. It was more than a smile; it was a grin with an aura, overtaking him and all those in his immediate vicinity.

  His bright blue eyes were a stark counterpoint to his dark hair and closely-groomed beard and verged on grey when he laughed, his nose wrinkling, his agile mouth… God, the moment she’d noticed his lips, it had been a foregone conclusion she would need a taste before the night should end, lest she die. Dimples, chiseled features that would have been severe had he lacked such a capacity for humor. His unreasonable height and deceptively slight build could have been mistaken for gangly, an error of which she, herself, had been guilty at one point earlier in the evening.

  She’d been there, in a bar in Boston, in a place where no one knew her name, and she preferred it that way. In a town that used to be home, but hadn’t been for close to a decade. She was in town as a duty, but in the bar to lick her wounds in solitude as a choice. And then he’d spilled a beer on her.

  Given the pity party she’d been throwing herself in the form of a string of increasingly sturdy Cosmopolitans, the dark lager drenching her favorite grey plaid skirt and knee-high boots had really been par for the course in her mind. He’d been flustered and immediately apologetic, while she’d been taken by the blush in his cheeks as he attempted unsuccessfully to blot her dry.

  Far from stuffy and standoffish, her klutzy new friend was an interesting conversationalist, chatting with her and the bartender, a friend from their days at university. He was a new commodity, an unbidden breath of air as fresh as it was freeing. Maybe it was the liquor, maybe it was the moonlight, but this stranger, until only moments previous, incited in her a desire to step outside of her comfort zone. Abandon hope, and hopefully panties, all who enter here, or something to that effect. Wild, but impermanent, it might turn into a good story her girlfriends would never believe.

  At least, that was the story she was going to tell herself when he left her hotel room later. It had been a happy coincidence to find out that not only were they in the same lodgings, but on the same floor. The walk back to the opulent display of ostentatious overconsumption had been peppered with his shy but solicitous smiles, and gently lilting conversation in a baritone she wanted to hear endlessly. His sense of mortification about his clumsiness fueled her self-deprecating streak, and she found herself actively courting those flashes of white in the rising darkness.

  The elevator lights would have been garish at a Vegas stage show, and she said as much, eliciting a chuckle from her compatriot as they crowded into the mirrored interior of the elevator car and muscled their way to the far back corner. The crushing throng made their proximity less obvious, expected even, and they both took full advantage with his arm around her waist and her head on his shoulder.

  Somehow the spilled beer on her clothes didn’t cover up the smell of lime and verbena that emanated from his skin, making her want to bury her face in his neck. She would’ve sidled closer to do just that, but the car jerked to a stop with a ding, signaling their floor. He escorted her to her door, since it was closer than his room at the end of the hall and around the corner, and his hand on her back felt more personal than perfunctory.

  When she turned to thank him, the muted light of the empty hallway cast his stark features in enticing shadows from her view a foot below him. Torn between the desire to invite him in and a fundamental inclination to revert to her normal introversion, she placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned up to kiss his cheek as a fuller expression of her gratitude. His head turned toward her at the last moment and then she was lost in the fact that she finally knew how he tasted, how soft his beard was against her skin.

  His kiss was as perfect as the rest of him, starting tentatively, but warming as the seconds lengthened between them, each of them moving closer until neither gave a good damn about her sodden clothes. His arms around her waist were strong and steady as they lifted her into him to overcome the height disadvantage, and she couldn’t help but squirm to get closer.

  He pressed her back against the door through the strength of his kiss, freeing up a hand for her to paw for her key card, then press it into his hands to finish the deed. They fell through the door as the lock gave way, and the jarring change of geometry and gravity gave them both over to laughter as they fought their giggles to right themselves and close the door. Neither one mentioned the fit of madness that had overcome them, and no sooner had it latched than their inexorable attraction drew them inexorably together again.

  Lips, tongues, touches, whispers, all mingled as they peeled each other to the skin with a mixture of desire and trepidation. This wasn’t her, she knew, this was some wild woman who’d seized control of her mind and body as soon as the ale had touched her skin, and tomorrow she would wonder how all this happened, but for now, his warm breath on her neck as he brushed his lips and teeth over her skin would keep her on the edge of bursting into flames.

  His clothes gave the impression of slightness, a whip-thin frame stretched to capacity, but as soon as he had stripped to his undershirt, she was reminded that looks could be deceiving, this time in the best possible way. Strong and wiry muscles wound up his arms, his shoulders, across his chest, leading her to think the carved and chiseled look of his face was merely a preview of upcoming attractions.

  Far from a passive receptacle of her attentions, the stranger’s eager fingers roamed over her, taking down her cardigan and camisole, flinging them in a high, graceful arc across the room. The zipper of her skirt proved a bit more daunting with its coating of beer, but her suitor remained steadfast. The moment her skirt hit the carpet, he picked her up and carried her to the bed without even the slightest sign of strain. He stretched out next to her, his voice a reverent whisper as he trailed his fingertips over her skin. Her name in his mouth, a holy offering as his lips began their journey at hers, destination all points south.

  As far as balms for a broken heart went, this certainly wasn’t the worst idea she’d ever had, though she’d never have dreamed of acting on it until tonight. His smile, his accent, the emotional upheaval and loneliness of her recent public humiliation conspired to make her wanton, and while she’d call herself to task in the unforgiving light of the morning sun, for the moment, the cloak of darkness hid her sins. To her mind, this was just the first of many.

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  BOOK 1 IN THE BEHIND THE BLUE LINE SERIES

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  Narcotics Officer, Sean O’Leary is bitter after a messy divorce that has reinforced his solitary nature, leaving him only with his dog and a sword collection. He could never imagine that his former best friend may be the only woman to bring happiness into his lonely life.

  Ellie Gardner knows loss; especially after she was banished from her best friend/crush's life by his jealous wife. Although the regret of walking away from the love of her life still stung, a cha
nce encounter with Sean may change everything.

  When Ellie and Sean reconnect, they could never expect it'd be in such an explosive way, leaving them both to gain the fulfillment of their 'what if's.

  Finding love is hard enough without the past breathing down their necks, especially when said past has no intention of letting go. When Sean's ex, Pia Mastriani returns, Ellie must face her nemesis' relentless tactics to get Sean back, including eliminating Ellie if necessary.

  Sean and Ellie’s relationship is put to the test but will they fare well while they go rummaging through The Ex File?

  Chapter 1

  Retirement parties and funerals have several things in common, the largest of which is they both resemble family reunions, only with infinitely more baggage. Ellie Gardner didn’t particularly enjoy heading to either, but did so out of duty and respect. It was the least she could do.

  The party at the police union hall was in full swing by the time she snuck in the back door. Her plan was simple, drop her gift, hug her friends, pay her respects, and bolt. Thirty minutes, tops, at least in her mind. These kinds of things depressed her, even with the cash bar she was leaning against currently.

  She’d changed out of her front desk aide clothes as soon as her shift had ended and was now comfortably ensconced in her ‘off-duty’ attire of a Clash t-shirt and jeans, both holdovers from her college days, and a new pair of black Chuck Taylors. If she was going to be emotionally uncomfortable, at least she didn’t have to worry about her appearance.

 

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