Eagle Warrior

by Jenna Kernan

  “What if I screw this up, too?” he asked.

  She smiled as she realized that he was considering it and it scared him to death.

  “Your past makes you who you are, Ray. You’re not the kid who joined the US Marines or the man who drank too much and flipped his vehicle outside Darabee. You’re the man who protected me, rescued me...loved me. Don’t let us go because it scares you, Ray. Be brave. Be the risk taker you claim to be and claim me.”

  He hesitated one instant more as his gaze swept her face, reading her expression. Did he see the love in her eyes, the willingness in her smile and feel the hope in her heart?

  Ray could barely breathe past the hope that rose in his throat. Morgan really believed he could do this. He’d taken so many chances, survived so many foolish risks. But this chance, this risk would involve a child and a good woman. Did she understand what she was asking?

  He held her gaze and Morgan nodded. “You can, Ray. If you want to.”

  The lump in his throat remained despite his attempts to swallow it again. Foolish hope, still alive after all this time. Who could have ever predicted that?

  “All right. Let’s do this.”

  Then Ray swept Morgan up in an embrace, spinning her once in a circle as she settled against his chest. Their mouths met in a joining that was so much more than physical. In his kiss, she felt the promise of a future together. When he finally set her on her feet, his hands came up to stroke her cheek and glide down her throat before settling on her shoulders. She felt the weight of his hands as he squeezed.

  “You sure?” he asked, giving her one more chance to come to her senses. She hoped she never did.

  “I am.”

  He smiled at her. “I love you, Morgan Hooke, and if you’ll have me, I want to marry you. I’ve never been a husband, never had the optimism to consider it, but if you think I can do it, then I’ll try every day and night not to let you or Lisa down. Will you be my wife?”

  Her reply caught in her throat and all she could manage was a choking sound and a vigorous nod before she threw herself back in his arms, burying her head against his chest. He stroked her head and chuckled.

  “Well, I’d cry at the prospect of marrying me, too.”

  She slapped him on the shoulder, that same shoulder that held the tattoo of an eagle, a tattoo he’d gotten in the hopes that someday he would be able to see beyond the obvious. Now he felt that he saw farther than ever before. He saw possibilities and a future with this woman and her child. And if he looked very far indeed, he saw more children in the home they would make together.

  * * * * *

  There is more trouble brewing on Turquoise Canyon as Apache hotshot and war hero Dylan Tehauno saves wealthy documentary filmmaker Charlotte Wrangler from a wildfire, only to find they’ve been framed for arson and murder. On the run from the killers and the law and battling the fire of attraction burning between them, Dylan and Charlotte must uncover the evidence that will prove their innocence.

  Jenna Kernan’s APACHE PROTECTOR:

  TRIBAL THUNDER miniseries continues

  in May 2017 with HUNTING BOBCAT.

  An explosive new case...

  A suspect with a hidden agenda...

  and a Special Agent whose past could cost her everything!

  Turn the page for a sneak peek at the first episode of

  TOUGH JUSTICE: COUNTDOWN (Part 1 of 8)

  by New York Times bestselling author Carla Cassidy.

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  Tough Justice: Countdown (Part 1 of 8)

  by Carla Cassidy

  Episode One

  A year after FBI Agent Lara Grant put her past—in the form of a very personal manhunt—behind her, the Crisis Management Unit is called in to take lead on a shocking new assignment. A serial bomber is targeting some of the most powerful people in in the city, threatening to expose their deepest secrets.

  And soon Lara will face a deadly foe—with an army of skeletons just waiting to fall out of her own closet…

  Prologue

  Dammit, he’d been so careful. And now this.

  A trickle of sweat worked down the side of his face and he closed his eyes as fear tightened his lungs and squeezed his throat. He’d been in a simmering panic since he’d received the email.

  He opened his eyes and reread the damned thing.

  12:01a.m., from yourworstnightmare@nowhere.net:

  I know what you did with all that money. I’ll keep your secret but it will cost the lives of innocent people. Or confess to the press and nobody gets hurt. The choice is yours. You have until noon tomorrow.

  The lives of innocent people? What did that mean? His gut tightened as nausea overcame him.

  Things like this weren’t supposed to happen to him. He’d done everything right in his life. He’d had high hopes. He had big ambitions. The New York Times was running a cover story on him next week that he hoped would launch him to a new level of success. Everything was in place and now this.

  Somebody knew his secret.

  He twisted his gold wedding band around and around his finger as he stared at the grandfather clock across the room. He had to make a decision fast. Time was running out.

  Coming clean would destroy everything he’d worked for. Hell, it wouldn’t only destroy him, it would also destroy his wife.

  How much could this anonymous person know? Did the emailer know about all the gifts, the secret hotel visits and the faux business expenses?

  Just last weekend they had spent two days together at a luxury hotel upstate, ultimately paid for by taxpayer dollars.

  Four minutes…he had four minutes left to make a decision. He should have contacted his brother when he’d received the email. But what could he have done to help? What could anyone do?

  Three minutes. A rivulet of sweat rolled down the center of his back while his fingers poised over his computer keyboard. It was too late to call for a press conference. But it wasn’t too late for him to type something up on social media…confess to the affair and to the misuse of public funds.

  If he didn’t do that innocent people would die. Jesus, what kind of a choice was this? What kind of a monster asked someone to make such a decision.

  The back of his throat closed up again. He didn’t want to be responsible for anyone dying. He blew out several short breaths in an
effort to calm himself.

  Two minutes to go. Surely it was a hoax. It had to be some sort of an outrageous bluff. How could he take this seriously? More sweat dampened him as the acrid scent of his fear wafted in the air. His fingers trembled with indecision.

  One minute…oh, God, what should he do? Was this real? Would something bad really happen?

  Thirty seconds. His phone dinged with a text message. Quickly he grabbed it up and stared at the text.

  Ticktock.

  A sharp pain shot through his chest. This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be…could it? The grandfather clock ticked off the seconds.

  Five.

  Four. His fingers hovered over his keyboard.

  Three.

  Two. Oh God. He hesitated. It was too late to type something now.

  One.

  As the clock began to chime, a ding indicated another text message.

  With dread he looked at it.

  Boom.

  Don’t miss a single exciting installment of the new FBI thriller

  TOUGH JUSTICE: COUNTDOWN

  by New York Times bestselling author Carla Cassidy,

  Tyler Anne Snell, Emmy Curtis and Janie Crouch

  On sale February 2017 wherever Harlequin ebooks are sold.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from MOUNTAIN WITNESS by Lena Diaz.

  Copyright © 2017 by Harlequin Books S.A.

  Mountain Witness

  by Lena Diaz

  Chapter One

  Blood, there was so much blood. Julie stood over him, one hand braced on the bed’s footboard, the other still holding the gun. The blood soaked his shirt, seeping between his fingers as he clutched at the bullet hole in his side. Air wheezed between his teeth, his startlingly blue eyes blazing with hatred through the openings in the ski mask. The same eyes that had once stared at her with such love that they’d stolen her breath away.

  Right before he’d said, “I do.”

  Julie Webb shook her head, blinking away the memories, wishing she could put the past behind her just as easily. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel as she sat in the driveway, the thin pale line on her ring finger the only tangible reminder of the diamond that had once sat there.

  Stop it. He can’t hurt you anymore. It’s time to move on.

  Unfortunately, with most of her assets frozen while the courts did their thing back in Nashville, moving on meant hiding out in the tiny—aka affordable—rural town of Destiny, Tennessee. And with the limited rentals available in Blount County, she’d chosen the lesser of evils, the one place with some land around it—an old farmhouse that had sat vacant for so long that the owner had been desperate to rent it. Desperate equaled cheap. And that was the only reason that Julie had taken it. Well, that and the fact that Destiny was a good three hours from Nashville. She wasn’t likely to run into anyone she knew in the local grocery store.

  The sound of a horn honking had her looking in her rearview mirror, reminding her why she was in her car to begin with. The moving truck sat idling in the gravel road that ran past the expansive front yard, waiting for her to back out so it could back in. After two days of living out of a suitcase and sleeping on the floor, having a couch and a bed again was going to feel like heaven.

  She put the car in Reverse, hesitating when she noticed that her only neighbor had come out onto his front porch. Long, unpaved road, dead end, surrounded by acres of trees and pastures, and she still had a neighbor to contend with. A handsome, sex-on-a-stick kind of guy to boot. Which was going to make ignoring him difficult, but not impossible. She’d had her own sex-on-a-stick kind of man before. And look what it had gotten her.

  He flashed her a friendly smile and waved just as he’d done every time he’d seen her in the past two days. And once again, she pretended not to notice. She backed out of the driveway.

  Rhythmic beeping sounded from the truck as it took the place of her car, stopping just inches from the porch that ran along the front of the white clapboard house. It was a much smaller, one-story clone of the place next door. There weren’t any fences on either property, so she wasn’t sure where his acreage ended and hers began. But clearly he had a lot more land than her rental. The mowed part of his yard extended for a good quarter of a mile to the end of their street.

  She didn’t care, didn’t want to know anything about him. The only way to survive this temporary exile was to keep to herself and make sure that none of her acquaintances figured out where she was. Which meant not associating with the hunk next door or anyone else who might recognize her name or her face, in case any of the news stories had made it out this far. She fervently hoped they hadn’t.

  The movers had the ramp set up by the time she’d walked up the long gravel driveway. It would allow them to cart the boxes and furniture directly to the top of the porch without having to navigate the steps. That meant everything should go quickly, especially since she didn’t have much for them to unload—just the bare essentials and a few things she’d refused to leave in storage.

  She risked a quick look toward the house next door. The friendly man was gone. A twinge of guilt shot through her for having ignored him. He was probably a perfectly nice guy and deserved to be treated better. But her life was extremely complicated right now. By ignoring him, by not letting him get involved in any way in her problems, she was doing him a favor.

  “Ma’am, where do you want this?” one of the movers asked, holding up a box.

  Apparently, the thick black letters on the side that spelled “kitchen” weren’t enough of a hint.

  She jogged up the steps. But, before going inside, she hesitated and looked over her shoulder at the thick woods on the other side of the road. The hairs were standing up on the back of her neck.

  “Ma’am?” the mover holding the box called out. He lifted the box a few inches, as if to remind her he was still holding it.

  “Sorry, this way.” She headed inside, but couldn’t shake the feeling of doom that had settled over her.

  Copyright © 2017 by Lena Diaz

  ISBN-13: 9781488012624

  Eagle Warrior

  Copyright © 2017 by Jeannette H. Monaco

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