Heroes in Uniform: Soldiers, SEALs, Spies, Rangers and Cops: Sexy Hot Contemporary Alpha Heroes From NY Times and USA Today Bestselling Authors

by Sharon Hamilton

  “Okay, I think.” She laughed nervously. Movement hurt but he loved her and nothing could be as terrible as losing Marsh again. Whatever he had to say couldn’t be that bad.

  “When I tracked you down back in April and drugged you, I, er, did something else.” He stood and started pacing, not at all the self-assured man she’d come to know. “I implanted a tiny transmitter into your shoulder. It’s still active and that’s how we were able to pin down your location so quickly.”

  “What?” She sat up a little straighter, frowned. Why would he do that? It explained the itch she sometimes felt there. Then she got it. No way. “You always planned for me to get away from your cabin in Vermont so I could lead you to Elizabeth.” His eyes told her she was right. Her jaw dropped. “All that time I felt guilty for drugging and deceiving you, and yet my escaping was part of the plan all along.” Anger started to build, hot and furious in her gut.

  “Yes and no.” He held up his hand, palm out. “You drugging me and us having sex were never part of the plan. Me waking up naked, handcuffed to a bedpost was never part of the plan. Leaving you unprotected for any length of time was never part of the plan.” His voice rose, words vehement.

  Memories of being grabbed out of her rental car in Montana bombarded her. Andrew DeLattio’s hands stroking her skin as if he could do with her as he pleased. She’d thought he was going to murder her. A bullet in the head after he’d finished using her body for his own gratification.

  Marsh’s hazel eyes were shockingly dark against pale skin. “If I’d have known DeLattio was going to escape custody and get hold of you, I’d never have let you leave.” He was trembling. Hands fisted as if he tried to hold everything inside.

  All the emotion of the past days and months swirled in her mind, but the biggest feeling that overtook her was relief and gratitude that Marsh was here with her now. That they’d found their way back to one another despite everything they’d gone through. Sure she was angry but she’d get over it, especially if it stopped her feeling guilty about what she’d done to him six months ago.

  “Is it still in there?” She looked toward her shoulder but it throbbed too painfully to examine.

  He shook his head, pulled something miniscule out of his pocket and handed it to her. “I asked the surgeon to remove it.” He swallowed audibly. “Can you forgive me?”

  She examined the tiny capsule in her palm. “Considering it ended up saving my life I think I can forgive you. But next time you want to stalk me just track the cell phone, okay?”

  He leaned over and kissed her, stroking her hair off her cheek. “There better not be a next time. You took a decade off my life last night; I want to spend all the days I have left being with you.”

  “Did I remember to thank you? For saving me?”

  He leaned his forehead against hers. “All part of the service.” He kissed her and she wished she wasn’t lying in a hospital bed. After a moment he pulled away. “I better go see how Vince is doing.”

  She struggled out of his grip, swung her legs over the side of the bed.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was a growl that told her not to push it.

  She stood and wobbled. “I’m fine, Marsh. Get me some clothes. I’m going to see Vince too.”

  “No.” His raised voice had the nurses looking over and then striding toward them.

  She planted her fist on her hip. “I need to do this. Please, don’t try to stop me.” The nurses bustled around her, clucking and trying to make her sit while they checked her vitals. “Go find me something to wear.” She flapped her hospital gown at him, revealing a lot of flesh. “Scrubs, pants, anything. I’m going to visit Vince if I have to walk naked through the halls.”

  “Fetch her a wheelchair from behind the desk, too,” a dark-haired nurse told him with a grin. “What are you waiting for? Go do what the lady asks.”

  Her Last Chance: Epilogue

  It had been a long hard week. They IDed Josephine’s mother through dental records and Marsh was arranging a proper burial. Prudence was being buried today—as a victim rather than an accessory—a concession to Brook Duvall’s position and Director Lovine’s wishes. Steve Dancer was on enforced leave, until Marsh and the departmental shrink deemed him well enough to return to work.

  Gloria Faraday had been released from custody, with no proof of her involvement in the crimes. Marsh didn’t know what to make of that. The painting that had been the catalyst behind the whole thing had been reluctantly donated to the National Gallery by all the parties involved. It wasn’t much consolation but it gave him some satisfaction that no one person would walk away rich from such a terrible situation.

  Josephine was slowly regaining movement in her shoulder, but she was not a woman who took immobility gracefully. Thankfully, Vince was recovering well enough to have left the hospital yesterday with only a broken leg and the rapidly healing scar from an emergency splenectomy to show for his near death adventure.

  They’d all survived and right now that was all that mattered.

  “What are you doing?” Marsh watched Josie sling the rucksack over her good shoulder. “I can carry that for you.” But she shook him off.

  She looked up at him, blue eyes bright and alive. He’d been so certain he was going to lose her when he’d raced into that damned beach house.

  “I need to say goodbye,” Josie said quietly, making his pulse pound.

  “Goodbye?” he asked her warily.

  “Not to you.” She pulled a face. “I’m moving out of NYC.”

  Did this mean…? His heart stopped beating. “Where exactly are you going?”

  Fingering the strap of her rucksack, she rocked back on the heels of her Doc Marten boots. “I’m moving to Boston to live in sin with a hot FBI agent, though not with his parents.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He took a step until his body brushed up against hers and caused all sorts of short circuits to his brain. “Who said I wanted to live in sin?”

  Her smile was wicked. “Trust me, you want to live in sin.”

  “No, I don’t.” He took her hand and leaned down, parting her lips for a deep kiss.

  She wrapped her good arm around his neck. “What do you want then?” She planted a kiss on him that stopped his breath, not the kiss itself, but this newfound confidence to treat him like he was hers. Because he was hers.

  “I want to take a cab up 5th Avenue to Tiffany’s and pick out the biggest diamond ring you’ve ever seen.”

  She laughed, but he caught a glimmer of happiness lurking in her eyes.

  “Diamonds are so cliché.” She faked a yawn.

  “How about the tab off a can of soda?” He interlinked their fingers and grinned. She hadn’t said no.

  “Not that cliché.”

  “So where are we going to first?” he asked as they got down to the lobby.

  “We’re going to say goodbye to somebody very special.” She lifted the flap on her bag and showed him the urn for Marion’s ashes.

  Ah.

  He bent to pick up an old newspaper that had dropped out of someone’s recycling box.

  “Hey! What is that?” Josie’s tone turned icy as she pointed at the paper.

  He looked down and there he was on the front page of The NY News with his tongue down Detective Jenkin’s throat.

  “That was Plan A, before you were kidnapped.” He looked at her furiously jealous face and suddenly everything in his world righted itself. Even when she drove him nuts, she was what he’d been searching for his whole life.

  Then he kissed her, dragged her back up the stairs to her apartment and even though she bitched at him the whole way, he knew that this was going to work. They’d go scatter ashes and buy rings later. Right now he finally had her where he wanted her. In his life. In his heart.

  —The End—

  About the Author

  Toni Anderson

  New York Times and USA Today international bestselling author, Toni Anderson, writes dark, gritty Rom
antic Suspense. Her novels have been nominated for the prestigious Romance Writers of America® RITA® Award, Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence, Daphne du Maurier Awards for Excellence, and National Readers' Choice Awards in Romantic Suspense. Some of her books have been translated into German & Romanian.

  A graduate of Marine Biology from the University of Liverpool, and the University of St. Andrews, Toni was a Post-doctoral Research Scientist for several years, and travelled the world with her work. After living in seven different countries, she finally settled in the Canadian prairies with her Irish husband and two children. Now she spends her time talking to the voices in her head and making things up. Toni has no explanation for her oft-times dark imagination, and only hopes the romance makes up for it. She's addicted to reading, dogs, tea (never travels without it), and chocolate. She loves to hear from readers.

  Toni's current release is the fourth book in her bestselling Cold Justice Series, COLD FEAR.

  www.toniandersonauthor.com

  Join Toni's mailing list HERE for release news, special offers, and sneak peeks. Follow her on twitter @toniannanderson or Facebook www.facebook.com/toniannanderson. Contact her at toniannanderson@gmail.com

  Additional Books by Toni Anderson

  COLD FEAR

  HER SANCTUARY (Her ~ Romantic Suspense Series, Book One)

  THE KILLING GAME

  EVERLASTING

  An Evers, Texas Novel

  by Lori Ryan

  Everlasting: Chapter One

  Wow. Don’t hold back, Dad. Tell him what you really think.

  Katelyn Bowden leaned her head back against the icy tile wall of the hospital corridor and listened to her father and Sheriff John Davies argue. The hallway reeked of pine-scented cleaner, a smell that had always set her on edge.

  Katelyn gritted her teeth. Her father was dying. She’d come home to be with him during his last weeks—maybe months if they were lucky—and now that she was here, he wanted to send her away. That was nothing new to Katelyn, but her cheeks heated at the thought of John hearing this from her father. Humiliation was becoming an all-too-common feeling for her lately.

  “Of course I called her, Alan. You’re in the hospital. Why wouldn’t I call your only daughter and tell her to come home?” John asked and Katelyn wasn’t surprised by the confusion in his voice.

  Katelyn had heard her father's opinion on her coming home before, albeit a gentler version. She knew exactly what he would say. He probably hadn’t ever shared his thoughts on the topic with John, though. John probably believed Katelyn stayed out of Evers, Texas—her father’s hometown—by choice. People here couldn’t possibly understand her relationship with her father. The only thing the people of Evers saw was a daughter who never came home. They had no idea it was her father who kept her at arm’s length.

  Katelyn frowned. Her father didn’t exactly keep her at arm’s length. Well, he did and he didn’t. It was complicated. He was loving and caring in his own way with her. Throughout her entire childhood, he’d rarely missed one of his monthly visits to her in Austin, and as sheriff of a large portion of the Texas Hill Country, that was saying something. When he was with her, he doted on her. He simply didn’t want her here, in his world. Katelyn had learned at an early age: she wasn’t ever going to be allowed to come home.

  Her father’s tone was harsh and unyielding as he spoke to John in his hospital room, drawing her back to the present. “You send her away, John. You tell her you made a mistake. She...she doesn’t need to see me like this. I’ll go see her when I’m feeling better.”

  Ah, a new argument. Now her father could say he didn’t want her to see him in his current condition. There were some advantages to being on your deathbed, after all.

  Katelyn knew if she walked in the room, her father would soften. He’d cajole and persuade instead of demand and order. He’d tell her she should be in Austin, where she’d grown up with her aunt. He’d say she needed to stay near her studio for the sake of her art, be near the gallery that sold her work.

  This time was different, though. Katelyn wasn’t going back. She would tell him she already had another artist ready to sublet her studio and she planned to put her condo on the market. She would tell him it was too late to go back. She hadn’t had time to pack much, but she would hire someone to pack the rest of her things and have them sent in the next week or so. Whether her father liked it or not, Katelyn was coming home to Evers.

  Of course, neither John nor her father knew she had another reason for being in town. She wouldn’t tell her father the whole story. He didn’t need to know she’d been mortified to discover the man she’d been dating was hiding a wife and newborn infant from her. Or that her so-called friends simply shrugged when she told them and said they thought she knew. Katelyn wasn’t sure whether it said more about her friends that they thought she knew but didn’t care, or more about her. Why would they think she would do something like that? That she’d be that kind of person? When the call had come from John telling her how sick her father was, Katelyn had grabbed at the chance to walk away from it all and start over.

  The door to her father’s room opened with no warning and John came storming out. He pulled up short when he spotted her, and she could see the pity on his face when he realized she’d been listening to their argument.

  “Katelyn, I....” He reached out a hand, but Katelyn stepped away, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Have you had an update from his doctor? Do they think I’ll be able to take him home soon?” she asked, putting the conversation firmly in the realm she wanted. She wasn’t about to discuss her relationship with her father with anyone—least of all John Davies.

  She had started hearing about her father’s Golden Boy when she was twenty-two and he’d come to work for her father, who was sheriff at the time. Her father couldn’t stop talking about the man who would take over his department when he decided to retire. About the man who had become more than someone he mentored. The man who was like a son to him.

  When she met John two years later on one of her rare trips to Evers, nothing John had done had been able to make it past the grudge she carried for him. By the time Katelyn met John Davies, she’d been firmly past the point of ever seeing him the way any other woman might. His golden blond hair and mesmerizing eyes might have captured most women’s attention. Of course, she noticed he was tall and built like a tank. A very well-muscled, armored tank with a six-pack to die for and sinewy arms that could make a girl melt. But, she didn’t respond to his natural good looks or his ready, dimpled smile. She didn’t care if he flirted with her or turned on that charm that seemed to come so easily to him. Katelyn had seen John through eyes tainted with the strain of her father’s desire to keep her out of his life.

  She and John had continued to see one another from time to time over the years. He’d come for dinner when she visited her father and, honestly, he was always open and friendly with her. If John noticed her dislike of him, he never brought it up. But, the resentment on her side remained.

  Standing in the hospital corridor with him now, Katelyn was shocked to find she wanted to let John comfort her. She wanted to let him hold her and tell her everything would be all right, that her father would be well again, even though she knew that wasn’t true. So she reverted to what she did best. Katelyn shoved her feelings and emotions down, swallowing them before they could surface to where she’d be forced to face them. She looked at John with what she hoped was a blank expression and waited for him to fill her in on her father’s medical status. The faster she found out what was going on, the sooner she could see her father and get home to deal with the emotional turmoil that was threatening to take over, in private.

  “Kate,” John tried again.

  “Katelyn.” Oh, she knew she was being unacceptably rude, but she didn’t want this man’s pity. Didn’t want it and didn’t need it. “I can go find his doctor, if you don’t remember all the details.”

  John leveled her with one of those
looks he seemed to reserve only for her. The look that said he was simply patronizing her. The look that said he could read every thought and every emotion. How she hated it when he gave her that look.

  “All right,” John said slowly. “Why don’t we grab a cup of coffee in the cafeteria, and I’ll fill you in.”

  Katelyn didn’t move to follow him. “I’d prefer to speak here and then go see my dad, John. I’m tired. I’ve just driven four hours, and I want to visit with him and then get settled in at home.” There was that word again. Home.

  So absurd, really. Her father’s home in Evers hadn’t been her home in years. Decades, really. Not since she’d been sent away when she was four years old. Not since her mother’s murder.

  “Fine,” John said with a clipped nod. “The cirrhosis is as advanced as they thought it was when I called you earlier. There’s no reversing the damage to his liver. He’s not eligible for a transplant because he’s flat out told his doctors he has no intention of giving up alcohol. He’s got six months, tops. Most likely, a lot less.”

  Katelyn swallowed and tried to keep her face an even mask, showing little emotion, but she had to glance away from John and blink back the tears that were pushing their way out. How had her father hidden this from her?

  Her voice turned to a whisper, even though she tried to put the strength of the anger she was feeling behind her words. “How did this happen, John? When…?” Katelyn looked down and gathered herself before meeting John’s eyes again. “Why didn’t you tell me he was drinking this much? How could you let him do this?”

  She saw the wave of guilt hit John’s face, and she felt bad for a moment before she managed to draw up her anger again. He should have told her. If he wanted to be a son to her father so damned much, he shouldn’t have stood by and let this happen.