And the finest gift in the world. Thank you, Sarge.
Zachary watched Gabriel limp into the lobby. He must be hurting badly.
“Will he be all right?” Jessica’s brow furrowed.
“Of course.” The answer was instinctual…and wrong. A lie.
Zachary wrapped his hand around hers. Her fingers were small. Delicate. She was small and delicate, and every instinct he had said to protect her. From everything.
Yet being smothered in the name of safety wasn’t what she wanted. And it snubbed their agreed-upon boundaries. She wasn’t his slave, after all. His title “Master” was derived from the Shadowlands, not their relationship. He was her Dom; however, he didn’t want a 24/7 submissive—even though his dominance didn’t necessarily stop at the bedroom door—and she didn’t want to be one. She stood on her own two feet, and her strength of character was one of the reasons he loved her. Nevertheless, he’d slid into a typical Dominant habit—being overprotective to the detriment of the relationship.
Last night, when spotting Weiss, she hadn’t hidden. She’d charged the man and saved Zachary’s life.
He needed to rein in the protectiveness.
“Z? Why are you frowning if Gabe will be all right?”
Looking into her clear green eyes, Zachary gave her a rueful smile. “My answer was more optimistic than truthful. An off-the-grid cabin in the bush is a poor choice for someone not one hundred percent healthy. Even worse, he’ll be snowed-in and alone for months. Isolation tends to exacerbate the kind of grief and guilt he’s feeling right now.”
She started to rise as if to run after Gabriel and stop him.
“No, little one. It’s his choice, as he pointed out.”
“I suppose it would be bad form to tie him up and sit on him?”
He laughed and realized anew how much he’d missed talking to her. Although he always listened when she complained about her day, he’d stopped discussing his own problems. Because he was trying to shield his overworked submissive. Wrong, again. She needed to be part of his life. And he needed her there.
His warm-hearted woman with her quirky sense of humor balanced his world in a way no one else ever had.
“Have I told you today how much I love you?” he asked softly.
She wrinkled her nose. “You might have said something in the early hours, which would be considered today, I guess. I was too busy dying of heart failure to take it in.”
“Your heart was pounding as I recall.” That’d been about when he’d started lightly swatting her pussy.
She glowered at him, and then huffed a laugh. “I should have remembered you speak Spanish.”
“A painful mistake on your part, yes.” Really, it was a wonder she was able to sit down at all today.
Lifting her hand, he kissed her fingers. “By the way, did you get the video of our daughter? Your mother sent it earlier this morning.”
“A video?” Her eyes lit. “Can I see?”
Zachary pulled out his phone, opened the gallery, and handed it over.
Sitting on the floor in front of a tiny desk, Sophia was coloring. Next to her, ears pricked forward in interest, Galahad watched intently. Whenever the toddler looked away, the cat lifted a furry paw and knocked another crayon to the floor. When she finally realized all her crayons were gone, she looked around, spotted them on the floor, and burst into infectious giggles.
As Jessica did now.
Grinning, Zachary pocketed the phone. “It’s obvious our daughter is doing quite well without us. How would you feel about staying another two days? You’ve never seen Alaska; we could play tourist.”
Jessica gave a tiny bounce. “Really?”
“I can think of nothing I’d like better.” He cupped her cheek and leaned over to take her lips gently before murmuring, “And no one with whom I’d rather spend the time.”
Smiling, she rubbed her cheek against his. “I love you, Master Z.”
She squirmed slightly and muttered, “But I need to stand up now. My bottom hurts, you sadist.”
Laughing, he pulled her up. When he wrapped his arms around her, his entire world seemed to glow. “In case you’ve forgotten, kitten, that pretty bottom is mine.”
He bent to kiss the pout off her lips and murmur, “As are you.”
~ The End ~
* * * * *
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In the Alaska wilderness, four streetwise boys became men—and brothers
Now the crazy ex-military survivalist who plucked Gabriel and three other boys from an abusive foster care home has died. But the sarge leaves them a final mission: Revive the dying town of Rescue.
Gabe is done with being a hero
Wounded in body and soul, the retired SEAL simply wants to remain holed up in his isolated cabin. He sure doesn’t want to be chief of police in some defunct town. Nevertheless, he has his orders.
Audrey needs a place to hide
After the Chicago librarian discovers a horrendous crime, she wakes to an assassin in her bedroom. Injured and terrified, she flees, covering her trail every inch of the way. New name, new ID. New home. As Audrey learns to survive in Rescue, she begins to fall for the town…and the intimidating chief of police who protects it.
Can the shy introvert and the deadly police chief find a life together?
Despite the discord in town, Gabe is finding his own peace…with the quiet young woman who seems to have no past. She’s adorable and caring and so very lost. But how can he trust someone who lies to him with every breath she takes?
“Cherise Sinclair is my go-to author when I want a satisfying read. Heat, emotion, suspense. She’s got it all.”
~ NYT Bestselling author Lexi Blake
Excerpt from
Not a Hero
First book in the Sons of the Survivalist series
In no hurry, Gabriel MacNair strolled the business section of Main Street—two blocks—reached the end, and headed back on the other side.
It’d take a while to get his footing here. Get to know the place. When visiting Mako, he’d only come into town to pick up groceries.
But police work was police work, no matter the size of the town.
He was a retired SEAL, had been a police lieutenant in Los Angeles, even led a merc squad. Fuck knew, he could handle paperwork. Didn’t mean he looked forward to dealing with an entire station’s budget.
He glanced at the store he was passing, saw it was Dante’s Market, and entered. The owner was a Vietnam vet, and the reason why Mako had chosen Rescue as a place to live.
Not spotting Dante, Gabe glanced around.
Only one person was in the store, a white adult female perusing the cookie section. She had stunning hair. The thick, wavy tangle was every shade of gold and reached halfway down her back. About five-five, she wore jeans and a flannel shirt bulky enough to disguise her curves.
Before he could speak, she picked up a box of cookies and tucked it into her purse.
Well, fuck. Disillusionment washed through him. Even here, people were no good. Odd, he hadn’t realized how much he’d hoped for different until that desire was crushed.
He cleared his throat.
She spun, saw him, gasped, and began backing away down the aisle. Hand on her throat, she looked so terrified, he almost had a moment of pity.
Almost.
Staring at the man, Audrey retreated as fast as she could…and he came toward her. Oh God.
He blocked the narrow aisle completely. Her heart began to pound painfully inside her rib cage. She glanced over her shoulder at the back door, but the locked door would take time to get open.
She turned to face the man. He was frighteningly big. Over six feet tall, with short brown hair. The beard shadow was darker than his outdoorsman’s tan. Harsh lines bracketed his unsmiling mouth, and he looked…threatening.
Could the hitman or his people have traced her?
A glance didn’t reveal Spyros; the man was alone. Besides, she hadn’t left a trail. People disappeared all the time into remote Alaskan towns.
No, she was safe here. Surely she was. “Wh-what do you want?”
He crossed his arms over his chest—a very broad chest. “It’s simple. Hand me everything you stole, and then we’ll go down to the station and have a chat.”
Have a chat? She wasn’t going anywhere with him. The rest of his sentence registered. Station… Oh my God, he was the police.
She stared at the badge on his black fleece-lined jacket.
Wait, what did he mean “stole”?
“I didn’t steal anything.” Fear blossomed anew. Although her photo ID looked real enough to her, it wouldn’t hold up to a police background check. She took a step back.
His eyebrows lifted slightly. “I saw you. Bring your purse up to the counter.”
Outrage swept through her, vying with anxiety. “I’m not stealing. Dante said I could take whatever I wanted to eat.”
“Mmmhmm.” Disbelief was obvious in the man’s deep voice. “Let’s ask him.”
Audrey crossed her arms over her chest, imitating the man. “He’s not here.”
When his gaze pinned her in place, she saw his eyes weren’t black—they were midnight blue and brimmed with skepticism. “He wouldn’t leave his store unattended.”
“He asked me to mind the register.”
“And steal the goods?”
“Listen, Sheriff—”
“There are no sheriffs in Alaska. Call me Chief.”
“Chief.” Oh, she was so screwed. He wasn’t merely a small town cop, but the Chief of Police. She swallowed. Where was Dante? Shouldn’t he be back by now? “Chief what?”
“MacNair. And you are?”
“Juliette Wilson.” She’d done her homework. Wilson was almost as common as Jones, Johnson, and Smith. Juliette was a popular name, too.
“Wilson, huh?” His mouth flattened in a cynical way.
The door opened. As Dante moseyed into the store, relief filled her.
Only a few inches taller than she was, the wiry grocery store owner had receding white hair and a thick white mustache and beard.
He saw her, and his bushy brows pulled together. Turning to Gabe, he snapped, “Yo, buddy, leave my girl the fuck alone.”
When the chief turned toward him with a scowl, Dante blinked. His face lit. “It’s Gabe, isn’t it? I’ll be. You’re really here?”
The chief didn’t even notice Dante’s delight. “Ms. Wilson here was stuffing her purse with groceries and says you left her to mind the place.” The cop’s deep voice held enough sarcasm to fill a lake.
“Heh, working in LA done made you cynical, boy.” Dante might’ve left Oklahoma behind a long while back, but the southern twang in his voice remained.
“She told the truth?”
“Yep, she sho’nuff did.” Dante stepped behind the counter and set down a travel cup and white paper sack from the coffee shop. “She’s working now and then in exchange for one of my rental cabins and some groceries. Room and board, you might say. Keeps me from having to close up every time I want to leave the store.”
Audrey’s muscles began to unknot.
“I see.” The chief glanced at her, and his sharp gaze lingered on the yellowing bruises on her face. His suspicions didn’t appear much abated, although he said, politely enough, “I’m sorry to have bothered you, Ms. Wilson.”
“Quite all right. I can appreciate how guilty I must have appeared.” If she’d been a criminal, she’d be running from him as fast as possible.
To her relief, he nodded and joined Dante at the front.
After the two men shook hands, Dante glanced over. “Julie, how about you unpack those boxes of cereals?”
Yes, she totally needed something to keep her hands busy. “I would be delighted.”
“You shopping or walkin’ your beat,” Dante asked the chief.
“There’s no food in my cabin, but I’ll shop later.” The chief shrugged. “I wanted to see what I had to deal with here.”
“A lot, boy. A lot. Get yerself settled in and then we’ll talk.” Dante’s smile widened. “You might check on your brother across the street. There was a shit-ton of swearing coming from over there.”
Pretending not to listen, Audrey blinked. The man had a brother. There were two of them in this town. What an awful thought.
“No surprise. He hates paperwork.” The chief’s lips didn’t move, but the sun lines beside his eyes crinkled.
Oh. Dear God, the man would be lethal if he ever really smiled. She realized she was staring.
He noticed. His eyes narrowed, and his expression hardened. Even though Dante’s explanation should have placated the cop, he obviously didn’t trust her at all.
A chill washed through her, because she knew she must have looked guilty as hell.
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Also from Cherise Sinclair
Click to purchase
Masters of the Shadowlands (contemporary)
Club Shadowlands
Dark Citadel
Breaking Free
Lean on Me
Make Me, Sir
To Command and Collar
This Is Who I Am
If Only
Show Me, Baby
Servicing the Target
Protecting His Own
Mischief and the Masters
Beneath the Scars
Defiance
Mountain Masters and Dark Haven (contemporary)
Master of the Mountain
Simon Says: Mine
Master of the Abyss
Master of the Dark Side
My Liege of Dark Haven
Edge of the Enforcer
Master of Freedom
Master of Solitude
The Wild Hunt Legacy (paranormal)
Hour of the Lion
Winter of the Wolf
Eventide of the Bear
Leap of the Lion
Sons of the Survivalist
Not a Hero
Standalone books
The Starlight Rite (Sci-Fi Romance)
The Dom’s Dungeon (contemporary)
About Cherise Sinclair
Cherise Sinclair is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of emotional, suspenseful romance. She loves to match up devastatingly powerful males with heroines who can hold their own against the subtle—and not-so-subtle—alpha male pressure.
Fledglings having flown the nest, Cherise, her beloved husband, an eighty-pound lap-puppy, and one fussy feline live in the Pacific Northwest where nothing is cozier than a rainy day spent writing.
Connect with Cherise in the following places:
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