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by Wendy Stone
Description: Partners in more than stopping crime? Brett Hunter had enough of his cousin's detective agency and went into the police academy. Now he's been partnered with Sam Taylor, a sexy blonde with cop's eyes and enough sass to keep the headstrong Hunter in line. But when they butt heads with a serial killer, will Brett be strong enough to keep Sam safe? Will their growing love be enough to see them through the problems of love in the workplace? Will they find the killer and foil his foul schemes? Excerpt: Samantha's eyes roamed at will over his mussed hair and the sexy stubble that covered his chin and cheeks. He wore only a pair of jeans, left unbuttoned, the top gaping open. His chest was bare; her fingers itched to touch his skin, to see if he was as warm and strong as he looked. She only looked up when he cleared his throat. Her eyes met his, confused blue to warm hazel. "Kiss me," she breathed. "What?" Those eyes grew wide with shock. "Just do it," she growled, reaching up and letting her hand grasp the back of his neck, warm from sleep. She pulled him down, seeing his eyes flame, feeling his hands reach around her, sliding from her waist up her back. Fire. It was all she could think when his lips captured hers. There was no softness; no butterfly touches or teasing caresses. He was all heat, his chest; his lips twisting hers open so that his tongue could explore her mouth. She moaned, her fingers slipping into his hair, trying to get closer. Then she forced herself away, tearing out of his arms, her heart racing, her lungs desperately seeking air that seemed suddenly too thin. "Dammit!" she growled, pacing back and forth for a moment. "He's right." She looked up at Brett and felt a spurt of panic that grew to overwhelming fear. "Forget I was here," she said quickly, turning to flee down the cement walkway. But Brett was quicker, reaching out one arm and wrapping it round her slender waist to drag her roughly back toward him. "No way," he growled. "You expect me to forget you showing up at my house at two a.m., waking me from a sound sleep and then demanding that I kiss you? Are you completely crazy, Sam? You're going to have to tell me what this is all about."
eBook Publisher: Eternal Press/Damnation Books LLC/Eternal Press, 2011 2011-06-07
eBookwise Release Date: July 2011
6 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [302 KB]
Reading time: 187-262 min.
"So? How do I look?" Brett Hunter stood in the doorway of Dillon's home in Lansing, modeling his uniform as Rylie Hunter looked on, a big smile on her face.
"You look like the poster-boy for the police academy," Dillon growled softly as he held his children in his arms. Rayne, his daughter, had the blonde hair of her mother, but her baby blue eyes were changing slowly to the amber color of her father. She would be golden and lovely when she grew up, of that he had no doubt. His son Chase had the dark hair of the Hunter clan and also showed the slight hint of amber in his baby blue eyes. Dillon couldn't be prouder of the two than he was.
However, now he was grumpy. "I can't believe I give you this cushy job, almost running my agency here in Michigan, and you throw it away for a job in law enforcement. What's wrong with you, boy?"
"What's wrong with me?" Brett asked. "You'd think the time we spent with Mackenzie and Gideon would have taught you something, Dillon. To tell you the truth, if Mac hadn't stood up to you the way she did, I don't know if I'd have been able to leave the agency. This is something I've always wanted to do, and with the background you've given me, I have a head start on getting my detective's badge. You know us Hunters. We either become cops or we marry them." He rubbed at a small smudge on the gleaming badge that decorated his chest. "Can't you wish me well and leave it at that?"
Rylie moved toward him, her body once more lithe and firm after having the twins. She rose onto her toes, Dillon's eyes on her as she kissed Brett's cheek. "He's behind you, Brett. You know he is."
"Yeah, I can feel the knife he's pushing into my back," Brett said grumpily, but he managed a smile for his cousin-in-law. "I just don't know how you handle him and his high-handed ways twenty-four-seven."
"It takes patience and training," Rylie joked, reaching up to smooth down his collar and twitch at the knot on his tie. "Plus he wears a bullet-proof vest most of the time."
"It's a clip-on, Rye," Dillon said, rising with the sleeping babies in his arms. "They don't let cops wear big-boy ties." He handed Chase to his wife, watching her deftly maneuver the baby to her shoulder before handing her Rayne. "I'll be up in a second to help you put them down for their naps," he said, eyes softening as he gazed with love at the three people who made up his world. "I just need to speak to Brett for a minute, okay?"
Rylie narrowed her blue-eyed gaze at him. He could read the warning in her eyes and flinched. Play nice or sleep on the couch; he could see it in the glorious azure of her eyes. He nodded. He'd play nice because in his heart he only had Brett's best interests.
He waited until she left the room. "Brett," he began, looking down at his cousin. "I only want what's best for you, so if you think joining the police department is it, well then, I'll have to respect that. Just remember, Rylie and I will always be here for you if you ever need us for anything, and that includes your old job back, okay?"
Brett nodded. "Don't hold your breath though."
"I am proud of you, you know," Dillon said as he watched the younger man turn away and head for the door.
"What was that?" Brett asked, his eyes wide as he turned back around. "You're going to have to repeat that. I don't think I heard you straight."
"Don't be smart," Dillon growled. "Uniform or not, I can still knock your ass down."
"Yes, sir," Brett teased, ducking backward as Dillon took a step forward. "I'm going to be late." He grabbed the keys of the Hunter Agency car he'd used as Dillon's assistant. "I'll call later," he promised. "Tell Rylie I said thanks. I'll be quiet coming in so I don't wake the twins."
Dillon sighed as he watched his tall cousin head out the door, his duffle in his hand, ready to take on a new world, or at least his little corner of it. "A cop," he said with disgust in his voice. "He had to become a cop."
"Watch it, buddy," Rylie said, wrapping her arms around her husband from behind. "You married one of those, remember?"
"There's a difference; you're a fed, not just a patrol cop."
"Brett won't be a patrol cop long." She ducked under his arm, coming around to lean against his chest and let him hold her weight. She sighed and rested her head against his neck, his lips touching her temple. "He's got the bug, and he's got the experience to climb the ladder quickly. He saw some of the worst of life working at your agency; being on the streets will take the rest of that innocence away."
"You sound like you think that is a bad thing," Dillon said as he watched Brett back out and take off in a cloud of dust.
"It is. Everyone needs a bit of glitter to cover the eyes, baby. If not, you begin to lose hope and your ability to see the best in people, and then you finish up swallowing the end of your service revolver." She looked up at him. "You learn to find ways to cope with that lack of innocence if you're lucky, or if you have someone like I do to come home to. I just hope Brett finds what he needs to cope before he turns to alcohol or drugs or..." she let the rest slide away, seeming to be unwilling to think of such terrible things when it came to her friend and cousin by marriage.
"Ah..." He teased her. "I'm your glitter, huh?"
"Oh yeah," she said, turning in his arms to face him. "You're one big bag full of it."
He narrowed his eyes at her, but she wasn't cowed in the least. Dropping his head, he found her soft lips, feeling that surge of desire that was never far from the surface when she was around. He held her tightly in his arms, feeling the firmness of her breasts against his chest. "Did I ever tell you how glad I was you walked into Brandon's apartment that day?"
"Oh, maybe once or twice," she said, "but I always like to hear it again."
"Are the twins asleep?"
"Yes," she said, curving her lips into a smile as if she knew where he was headed. Twisting out of his embrace, she smacked his arm lightly. "Tag, you're it," she called softly and raced for the stairs.
He growled a warning and started after her.