Authors: Jordan Dane
Tags: #Romance, #Thrillers, #Retail, #Suspense, #Fiction
“
I guess Bryce worried her. He was the chink in her armor.”
“
To be exact, she called him ‘the screw up that would eventually get her nailed.’ She might’ve been right about that, but the bonehead move was hers when she called Joaquin.”
Rachel had told Angel that Joaquin had pulled her aside on the evening of Ethan’s concert and offered his help, discreetly of course. She’d become so desperate to get rid of Bryce that she eventually offered to pay Joaquin to kill the guy so McFarland’s front door key would be found on his body. That would make it easy to assume he’d killed the neighbor and Olivia. Bryce had history with both of them. Her plan would’ve worked. He would’ve been an easy mark. Bryce looked like a fanatical and overzealous friend to Ethan who’d gone too far to protect him. Since there was no evidence linked to Joaquin, Rachel might’ve walked away clean if her hired killer hadn’t gotten shot to death.
The burner phone had been planted on McFarland in an attempt to link him to Olivia’s death. When that didn’t work, because of Gabe’s eye for detail and McFarland’s missing key, Rachel had to scramble for another plan.
“
So the one thing we did right was stay alive. That must’ve pissed her off.” Cronan kept his half-lidded eyes on the road ahead, fighting the need to sleep, but he pictured Rachel’s face in his mind. He imagined what she looked like when Angel got her confession.
Score one for the good guys.
Cronan shut his eyes and quit talking. When the road noise nudged him toward sleep, he gave in and let it happen.
***
Angel opened Gabe’s front door and watched his reaction as he walked in. Before he came home, she’d made changes to his place to make it easier for him to get around in his condition. It would take time for him to be back at full strength. She’d moved his bed from the loft upstairs to the lower level. His bed, with fresh linens, dominated the room now—and her thoughts. When she’d made the bed, she ran a hand over his pillow and imagined him naked under the covers. Even now, she pictured him there, and her heart beat faster. It was just the two of them, alone for the first time at his home.
Gabriel stood at the door and looked around. His expression was hard to read, and he hadn’t said a word.
“You did this?” he said as he turned toward her.
“
Yeah. I thought…” She stopped when he finally smiled and pulled her into his arms.
“
Thank you. Exactly what I needed.” He grinned. “You even put food and water down for Jack.”
“
Yeah, remind me to tell you how we met. I had to bribe him with treats so he’d let me stay.”
“
Jack thinks we’re married.”
“
You could do worse.”
Gabriel ran a hand through her hair and kissed her, sweet and gentle. Angel could have stayed wrapped in his arms forever. She loved the way his lips felt on hers. As his partner before she met Manny, she’d stared at his lips before and wondered what they would taste like, what he would be like as a lover.
After she told him how she felt—dared to say the words that she loved him—she knew what the next step would be. He’d become the fantasy lover in her sleep. Staring into his eyes now, she knew the fantasy was about to turn real. She’d wondered when it would happen. After being shot, she didn’t know how he’d feel.
Gabriel didn’t say a word. He nuzzled her neck and slowly unbuttoned her blouse, touching her body with a tenderness she hadn’t expected.
“Are you up for this?” she whispered.
“
You have no idea.” In one snap, he undid her lacy bra and ran a hand over her breast. “I want you, Angel. Help me take a shower?”
She stared into his intense blue eyes, reliving all the times she had pictured him in her dreams. Ethan might’ve stirred her fire for having a man in her life, but Gabriel had been the one she’d pictured most. He was her partner. She wasn’t supposed to feel that way toward him, but she did.
“We have to take this slow,” she whispered. Goosebumps raced across her skin when he licked her ear. “We take care of your wound…and I’m in charge. You do exactly what I say.”
“
You read my mind.”
She took his hand to lead him into the room. When he reached to pull her to him, she stopped him. Angel made him stand without touching her. One by one she undid the buttons of his shirt. Her heart hammered harder when she slipped her fingers to his jeans and unzipped them. Even though his eyes watched every move she made, she saw him fighting to hold back. He wanted to touch her, but he did as he was told.
After she slid the shirt off his broad, muscled shoulders and let it drop to the floor, she ran the tip of her tongue over his nipples until they tightened into nubs. Angel inched closer and slipped her hands into his jeans. She loved how his body reacted. He gasped and cradled her head to his chest.
When she had him completely naked, with his clothes strewn at his feet, she stepped back and took a long look. Except for the bandage on his chest, Gabriel was everything she’d ever imagined in her fantasies. Tall, muscled body, long legs, and a taut belly she wanted to run her fingers over.
The length of his engorged penis took her breath away.
“
Hold that thought and get the water running. I’ll find something to protect your bandage,” she told him.
Angel found what she needed in his kitchen. After she covered his bandage to keep it dry, she took off her clothes and joined him in the steamy shower.
She knew Gabe wanted to feel stronger, but he wasn’t. Blood loss and the bullet wound had taken a toll on his stamina, and he was short of breath. She had to be the aggressor and take what she wanted, without hurting him.
“
I got this, Gabriel. Let me know if I’m hurting you.”
“
But that’s…” He ran a soapy hand between her legs and pulled her into his chest. “…exactly what I want. Hurt me.”
She forced him to sit on a tiled ledge as she washed every inch of him in a slow sudsy sponge bath. When it came to her turn, he bathed her with his hands in soapy, sensual caresses. Angel straddled him with her skin slathered in suds, and she nuzzled into his body, grinding until she was ready for him.
She used her fingers to slide him into her, and his size made her gasp. Her eyes stung with tears as she took his length deep inside. Stiff and hard, he shoved into her, and she did the rest. Her hips undulated as she rode his cock in and out. When he wanted to push harder, she took over and thrust faster. He panted and cried out as she moved.
“
Oh, baby. You make me so…hard.”
He held her back with one hand. With the other, his fingers found the sweet spot that sent a rush of heat through her.
“Oh…yes.” She shut her eyes and winced in pleasure as he stroked her. “Yes. That’s it. Oh, God.”
Gabe cried out when he came. His voice echoed in the shower stall, and his body convulsed in consuming spasms. She felt the throbbing swell of Gabe’s erection as he spilled into her. The instant he let go, Angel shuddered with an orgasm that swept over her, wave after wave. She clutched him to her breasts as her muscles clamped tighter to grasp every inch of him.
Angel straddled his lap, exhausted and spent, and collapsed in his arms. She didn’t let him see the tears spilling from her eyes as she held on to him. Making love to Gabriel, she’d finally let go of the grief that had left her mired in the past. She didn’t feel broken anymore. It had been a very long time since she’d been so happy.
***
Two weeks later
The last weekend before Cronan went back to work part-time, he had something he had to do alone. He had a ritual that he hadn’t told anyone about. Not even Angel knew the way he truly closed a case.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want Angel to come with him to put flowers on Olivia Davenport’s grave, or that he thought she wouldn’t understand. He did it to break his connection with the dead and let them go. He did it for him. It was his deeply personal way of saying good-bye, a practice that stemmed from the lingering nightmare of his parents’ grisly murders.
The sun had dipped below the horizon and shadows closed in as he drove through the wrought iron gates of the cemetery where the Davenports had buried their daughter, Olivia. He drove past stone angels and rows of headstones that covered the pristine grounds. Because he’d been shot, he missed Olivia’s funeral, but he would’ve come on his own anyway.
Memories of his parents rushed through his mind, the good with the bad. Every time he said good-bye to another victim of senseless violence, he thought of his mother and father, too. After he parked, Cronan reached across the passenger seat for the lilies he would put on her grave, and climbed out of his Crown Vic. The chill of nightfall carried on the faint breeze as he walked to where the custodian told him.
He didn’t have to search for Olivia’s headstone. As he approached the fresh grave, located under a tree, Cronan heard a distinctive sound on the evening air. It made him stop.
Ethan Chandler stood over Olivia’s grave, playing his violin.
Cronan didn’t have to appreciate classical music to understand the pain he heard in every note. He listened as the guy played a haunting melody that carried on the wind. He’d never heard anything so beautiful. Something about the headstones and the stillness had touched him, too.
Ethan wasn’t alone.
Looking stunning and dressed in black, Simone Moreau stared at Cronan from her spot in the shadows under the tree, with a sad smile on her face. She raised a hand to her lips and blew him a kiss. In that graceful gesture, he knew she would not come to him.
Simone had come for Ethan.
An ugly trial was ahead for him. Rachel Blevins would shed light on all the sordid details of what had happened to his girl. The guy had lost everyone who meant anything to him. In a strange way, Cronan knew exactly how that felt. Ethan would need a friend he could count on. For his sake, Cronan hoped that would be Simone, but the truth was that he didn’t know if the beautiful and exotic French woman had it in her to be the companion he would need.
Ethan’s questionable future only made Cronan think of Angel.
Thoughts of her filled his mind as he shut his eyes and listened to the stirring cry of the violin at dusk. He breathed in the cool night air, grateful to be alive. For the first time since he’d lost his parents, Cronan felt loved.
If you’re going to walk on thin ice, you may as well dance. This book is dedicated to all those willing to take risks and embrace new beginnings.
No book is written in a vacuum without an author having plenty of support. I’d like to thank my patient husband, John, who constantly amazes me how encouraging he can be.
He’s the cornerstone to every hero I will ever write. I’m blessed to have my parents and my brothers and sisters in my corner, too.
I’d like to give a shout out to all the talented authors on my group blog at The Kill Zone and the community of steadfast followers who make our blogging efforts feel like a chat with good friends. TKZ has been named “Top 101 Websites for Writers” by Writers Digest for 2013. We are honored.
To the many writer friends who supported me with this project and over the years by being role models, I want to thank Alicia Dean, Desiree Holt, Sharon Sala, Merline Lovelace, Linda Castillo, Allison Brennan, Alexandra Sokoloff, Brett Battles, Joe Moore, James Houston Turner, and the fierce Mel Odom.
Last but certainly not least, I want to give special thanks to my agent, Meredith Bernstein. She is a force of nature with a big heart and uber-chic vintage clothing.
Reckon
ing for the Dead
(Sweet Justice series, book #4)
The Echo of Violence
(Sweet Justice series, book #3)
The Wrong Side of Dead
(Sweet Justice series, book #2)
Evil Without a Face
(Sweet Justice series, book #1)
Cryst
al Fire
(The Hunted series, book #2)
Indigo Awakening
(The Hunted series, book #1)
Sex, Death, and Mo
ist Towelettes