The Ultimate Romantic Suspense Set (8 romantic suspense novels from 8 bestselling authors for 99c)

by Lee Taylor

  Dameon ignored his answer as if it was what he expected. Instead, he looked to Jesse.

  “Do you know any of these men, Major?”

  Jesse shook her head.

  Again, as if anticipating her negative response, Dameon persisted.

  “Has your client told you or has anyone in his retinue indicated the possible identity of the shooters or the man who hired them?”

  Jesse frowned at him. “As you know, whether he did or didn’t, that would be a privileged communication. My counselor relationship to Mr. Morales entails the same constraints and privileges as a lawyer and her client, with all the same client protections.”

  “I see. Well, I appreciate knowing the nature of your relationship with Mr. Morales.” Several titters followed Macarios’s caustic aside.

  Dameon’s eyes were cool as he considered her thoughtfully.

  Surprising everyone, he picked up the photographs, put them in a folder and handed the folder to the clerk.

  He rose from his chair and surveyed the group.

  “Thank you for coming. That’ll be all, folks. For now.”

  Ignoring the surprised mutters as the participants scurried to pick up their personal items. Dameon came over to Jesse and took hold of her arm.

  “If you would, please, Major. I’d like to see you in my office.”

  He motioned to his deputy who was collecting the various weapons.

  “Officer Renaldo, please show Ms. O’Donnell to my office.”

  Jesse frowned and Raoul stepped forward, inserting himself into the conversation. He glared at Dameon, his jocular affability noticeably absent.

  “I’d planned on taking my counselor to lunch, Chief Macarios.”

  Dameon’s tone was brusque. “Sorry. You’ll have to make it another time. I have official business with Ms. O’Donnell.”

  Waiting for Officer Renaldo in the hallway, Jesse noted that Dameon and Raoul were still in the conference room engaging in what appeared to be a heated exchange. Tomas Sanchez hovered outside the door, frustrated suspicion marring his already harsh visage. Jesse didn’t need to hear the conversation between the two imposing men to know that it was an intense one.

  Chapter 9

  Jesse sat in Dameon’s office waiting for him. She took advantage of the surroundings to get a more personal glimpse of his life. The walls were covered with various awards and honors from his career in the army, and also a fresh collection honoring his service on the police force. Jesse noted among the U.S. Army commendations several that referred to Lt. Colonel Macarios. She wondered why he had left what was clearly a fast track career. The collage of photographs on his desk hinted at the reason. A truly gorgeous little girl was featured in a montage of candid shots. She was dark-haired like Dameon, and like her father had a ‘foreign’ element to her looks. Jesse guessed from her wide, almost black eyes that the influence was Middle Eastern or perhaps East Indian. She was admittedly gratified to see only the child and her handsome father in the pictures. Nowhere was there a picture of the girl’s mother.

  On the wall behind the door were photos of Dameon and what must have been members of his Ranger unit. She recognized the patches on their uniforms and also many of the background icons. Dameon hadn’t merely been trying to reassure her when he talked about the sandbox—he knew whereof he spoke. Many of the photos were taken in locations she recognized in Iraq, Afghanistan and a few in Pakistan. Jesse’s gaze landed on a group of smiling men in uniform clowning for the picture. Of course she spotted Dameon first; his stunning eyes and dark hair were riveting. But next to him was a face that she knew well. It was her lawyer Eric Grant, his perpetual grin illuminating his face.

  As though she’d conjured him up, there was a knock at the door. When it opened, to her surprise both Dameon and Eric were standing in the doorway. Naturally Eric was grinning but for once his bonhomie looked forced.

  Jesse didn’t hide her surprise. “Eric, what are you doing here?”

  Eric was unusually hesitant. He glanced over at Dameon. “He asked me to come.”

  A cold shiver streaked up her back. Jesse had been trying to figure out why Dameon had insisted she meet with him privately. A part of her that she didn’t want to acknowledge hoped that he wanted to ask her to lunch or in some way signal that he was interested in her as a woman, not only as a party to a shootout and attempted murder. The serious expression on both men’s faces blew that theory out of the water. Within seconds Jesse’s well-tuned antennae signaled that this was a meeting she was not going to enjoy.

  She stared at Eric.

  “What do you mean, ‘He asked you to come’? Why?”

  “Dameon thought you could use my legal expertise.”

  Jesse was stunned. “What the fuck are you talking about, Eric?”

  Eric sighed as Dameon nudged him into the office and closed the door behind them.

  Dameon pointed to the chairs in front of his desk.

  “Eric, Jesse, please sit down.”

  Jesse ignored Eric and turned her attention to Dameon. For the first time she saw his stern expression. While he didn’t look angry as he did when he was arguing with Raoul, he was clearly on a grim mission. He motioned again to the chair.

  “Please, Jesse, sit.”

  “Like hell I will. What do you think I am, a dog?”

  She backed away and eyed the door. Seeing that she would have to go through a barrier of solid muscular man to get to the hallway, she decided to whittle him down with her anger.

  “What is this, Chief Macarios? And if you don’t tell me straight up, I’m leaving and you cannot and will not stop me.”

  Dameon nodded.

  “I told you yesterday that I needed to talk with you. Specifically about what happened Monday night.”

  “And to do that Chief, you needed to order me to come to the station and pretend that this was simply getting my statement?”

  “Quite honestly I doubted you would come if I told you what I wanted to talk to you about.” He shrugged. “I hated to have to arrest you again.”

  For a moment her anger turned to confusion. But seeing Eric trying to avoid looking at her as he backed into his chair, her fury escalated.

  “And what you had to talk to me about was so serious that you had to connive with my lawyer to get me here with the two of you?”

  She broke off and glared at Eric. “Or to be precise, you brought the asshole who WAS my attorney to a meeting without either one of you talking to me first.”

  Jesse pushed by Eric intending to leave but ran into a hard wall of muscle.

  Dameon grasped both of her arms and walked her to the front of the desk. He motioned to the chair.

  “I asked you to sit down, Jesse. You too, Eric.”

  Jesse was so surprised that she sunk into the chair, angry words sticking in her throat.

  Dameon circled the desk and sat down in his chair across from her.

  “Eric’s right, Jesse. I did ask him to meet with us. To protect you.”

  “Protect me from what?”

  Dameon quirked an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair.

  “From me.” Dameon squarely met Jesse’s questioning gaze before continuing. “Look. I’m going to lay out some facts for you about the other night. Along with the consequences for you. I wanted you to have the advantage of legal advice before you reacted to my proposal.”

  A dozen emotions swirled in Jesse’s brain. The expression on both men’s faces established this was grave. The fact that she was having trouble catching a breath confirmed that her heart knew it, even if her brain still couldn’t figure it out.

  “I’ll put it to you Jesse in clear terms. Monday night, you drew a gun and shot into a crowd of citizens.”

  When she started to protest, Dameon raised his hand. “Please don’t interrupt. This will go more quickly if you allow me to state the facts and issues as I see them. When I’m finished, along with your attorney, you can decide how you want to proceed. Agreed?”

 
; The stern expression on his face didn’t brook disagreement.

  Jesse nodded, deciding she’d hear him out before she attacked.

  Dameon continued. “I presume you were about to say that your gun is registered. That is your saving grace. If it wasn’t you’d be facing certain jail time. As it is we have concealed weapons legislation in New Mexico that you may be unaware of. But let me continue with the range of issues you are facing. After shooting into the crowd, you left a murder scene against my direct orders. Then you squirreled your client out the side entrance, deposited him in his limousine and ordered the driver to leave. You then disobeyed a direct order from Lt. Rockford not to leave the premises. When he stopped you, you resisted arrest.”

  He paused for a moment to let the damning litany sink in then added. “Any one of the above actions constitutes a felony.”

  He stood and walked over to the refrigerator against the wall and yanked out a couple of bottles of water. He put one apiece in front of her and Eric and then resumed his seat. He caught her gaze and held it.

  “On a personal not legal note: You chose to come into a strange city and set up a protective services practice without contacting the police. Doing so is not a requirement for a license. But knowing that you will be armed in most of your activities, it would appear to me that introducing yourself to the police force would have served you well. While this is not felonious behavior, it speaks to your judgment—or in my view, lack of it. I have three choices, Jesse, all of which I have discussed with your attorney. The first is that I can bring charges against you for any or all of the above felonies. I think the prosecution would have a field day. Or I can recommend to the licensing board that they revoke your license.”

  Jesse gasped and clung to the arms of the chair. She couldn’t have answered him if she’d tried. The lump in her throat prevented her from swallowing much less talking.

  “Eric indicated to me that you had difficult personal reasons for leaving the Army and that you are dealing with some tough family challenges. He asked that I consider these issues to explain what I see as a serious lapse of judgment. Because of his recommendation and your stellar background and Army career, I’m proposing a third option. The licensing board can issue you a provisional license. After you’ve had time to prove that what happened the other night was an aberration, we can review it and determine that—”

  Jesse conjured up enough spit in her mouth to interrupt. “Who would decide?”

  Dameon shrugged. “Essentially I would. Just as I can press charges and request that your license be revoked, I can also see that the probationary period ends. If you wish to contest my decision, that’s your right.” He sat up straight in his chair preparing to stand. “I will leave the room so that you can discuss my proposal with your attorney.”

  Jesse shook her head. Her voice was cool. “That won’t be necessary. I accept your proposal. Is there anything else before I leave?”

  She saw Eric and Dameon exchange a surprised glance.

  Dameon pressed his lips together.

  “Actually there is. I want to talk to you about your choice of clients.”

  If Dameon saw Eric’s raised eyebrow he ignored it.

  “Do you think for a moment that Raoul Morales doesn’t know who those shooters are or who is gunning for him, Jesse?”

  When she didn’t answer, he continued.

  “You need to think hard about working with Raoul. He lives in a dangerous world among violent, vicious men. If you are perceived by the cartel to be involved with Morales, you could be personally in danger. It’s a rough crowd, Jesse, and even though Raoul professes not to be a part of it any longer, his former cohorts may not agree.”

  Jesse met his gaze. “Is that an official warning, Chief, or merely a man meddling in a relationship he doesn’t like the look of?”

  To her surprise, Dameon’s expression softened. He flashed her a sheepish grin.

  “A little of both.”

  For a split second, Jesse almost gave into his charm, but she refused to relinquish her anger.

  She rose to her feet and blasted Eric with a scathing glare.

  “Just to be clear, Eric. I don’t appreciate you plotting with your friend behind my back. If I fire you or if I decide to continue to employ you, do know that anything that I have previously conveyed to you is privileged communication. You disclose it to anyone and you’ll need to start buying smaller sized pants.”

  She strode to the door ignoring his surprised chortle. She put her hand on the doorknob then leaned back against the door and glared at Dameon.

  “Thank you for the shoes. The red Jimmy Choo sandals are the most beautiful shoes I’ve ever seen. I’ve lusted after them for months but never dreamed that I could have them. But—”

  Dameon interrupted, “Why did I know that there was going to be a ‘but,’ Major?”

  She ignored him.

  “But I knew I couldn’t accept them.” She held up her hand to stop him. “BUT this morning I changed my mind. I decided that if I had to develop an installment plan to pay you for them I would.”

  Dameon murmured, “That’s not necessary, Jesse.”

  She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “BUT that was this morning. Now after this outrage, another example of your presumptuous overbearing behavior and a further despicable chapter in our short history, I’ve decided that I’m not giving them back. And I am not paying you for them. Instead I’m going to look for a green pair that hopefully will be more expensive than the red ones. I might even check out Manolo Blahnik. When I find exactly what I want, I’ll send you the bill.”

  Seeing his surprised grin that mirrored Eric’s she encompassed both men in her fierce glare. “And by the way? I despise you both!”

  She slammed the door behind her.

  A war of emotions shook Dameon. He summed them up with a muttered curse.

  “Fuck. That is some woman.”

  Eric agreed through his laughter.

  “She sure as hell is. But I already told you that. Damn, bro, are you sure you’re up to her? Hell, man, and I thought this was a professional issue. A little minor question of whether she could keep her license or go to jail. Now that I see what’s going on behind the scenes, methinks your good buddy Eric may be more clear-eyed than you are.”

  Dameon grimaced. “In what way? Do you think I don’t know what I’m up against?”

  Eric swiped at the tears of laughter streaming down his face. “Hell, man. What can I say? Jimmy Choo’s? That’s one thing. But have you checked out the price of Manolo Blahnik’s? Gotta tell you, man, if she hits you up for the alligator boots, I’d draw the line.”

  Chapter 10

  Dameon didn’t hear from Jesse for a week. He’d decided that he would keep his distance and allow her to deal with the last harrowing days. As much as he hated to admit it, he also needed a break. She was without a doubt the most attractive woman he’d ever met. And it wasn’t just her looks. Under all that bravado and fiery temper was a vulnerable woman, a side that pulled at him, made him want to protect her. Take care of her. And hell he admitted, claim her. All in all it was a situation riddled with landmines.

  At first, he was surprised at her quick acceptance of his proposal. The more he thought about it, he should have known that she would consent to the consequences he imposed. She was a true professional—Army led and bred. She knew what she did on Monday was wrong and was probably damn relieved that all she got was probation.

  She seemed angrier about Eric’s role. In addition to feeling conspired against by the two of them, she must have thought that Eric had revealed some of her secrets. And from what Dameon could tell, this woman was wracked by secrets.

  He prepared to light some kindling in the fireplace and settle in for a night of paperwork. If the last four or five nights were predictive, he’d likely spend most of his time thinking about a spectacular redhead with a temper as compelling as her body.

  When his phone buzzed, the caller ID noted an
unknown caller. He clicked on the phone.

  “Macarios.”

  “Dameon? This is Jesse, I—”

  Dameon’s breath caught in his chest.

  “What’s wrong, Jesse?”

  Her voice was soft, muffled.

  “I need help. It’s Trey. He’s been arrested.”

  Dameon was instantly on his feet and heading out the front door for the driveway, preparing to leap into his truck.

  “Where are you?”

  “At the police station, the central precinct. They… won’t let me in. They won’t let me see him. I’ve been here more than an hour and I…. Please, I need help.”

  Dameon’s gut clenched. Jesse’s voice was thick with fear.

  “Okay, Jesse, I’m on my way. Where are you? In the waiting room? I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, max. Hang in there, you hear me? It’s going to be okay. Whatever it is, we’ll work it out.”

  ~~~

  Jesse sucked in the first full breath that she’d taken since she received Trey’s frantic call. He’d been crying so hard she could barely understand what he was saying. Before he could tell her what happened, an official voice broke in. The officer gave her the address of the precinct where they were holding her son and hung up.

  After Jesse approached the desk four times begging the clerk for information, the hostile woman practically shouted at Jesse. She slapped the glossy magazine with the latest Brad/Angelina scandal emblazoned on the front on top of her desk.

  “I’ve told you repeatedly that I will call you when I receive information from the jail. In the meantime, take a seat.” She waved a dismissive hand at the crowd of bleary-eyed ‘patrons’ in the waiting room. “As you can see, you aren’t the only person here.”

  That was when Jesse knew she had to have help. She was close to panicking. Hearing Dameon’s calm voice telling her that he was on his way she kicked herself for waiting so long to call him. She’d just hung up and was brushing away her relieved tears when she heard a familiar voice.

  “I’m Dr. Garrett Chambers. You are holding my son. I demand to see him NOW.”