No one could throw a kiss into sexual overdrive like McBride.
Images of the two of them skin-to-skin, rediscovering each others bodies, streaked through her mind. Though they were in a truck on the side of the road, she still wanted to strip away McBrides clothes. Worse, she wanted him to tear off hers.
All that pent-up desire was unleashed from a single mind-blowing kiss that got more potent the longer it went on. She should end it before her sanity dissolved. But his hands were cupping her face, the back of her neck, holding her in place so he could ravishyes, actually ravishevery inch of her mouth. And she was loving it.
Instead of going with wisdom, she matched him stroke for delicious stroke with her tongue. There was a smoky darkness, an element of danger in the way he touched her. It hinted at some never quite spoken vice shed been warned by her father not to want or accept. And never to enjoy.
The memory of that warning rang through her mind when it was displaced by another soundtwo echoing gunshots, fired directly at them.
Dakota Marshal
Jenna Ryan
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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To Kathy, who makes it all work.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jenna started making up stories before she could read or write. Growing up, romance always had a strong appeal, but romantic suspense was the perfect fit. She tried out a number of different careers, including modeling, interior design and travel, but writing has always been her one true love. That and her longtime partner, Rod.
Inspired from book to book by her sister Kathy, she lives in a rural setting fifteen minutes from the city of Victoria, British Columbia. Its taken a lot of years, but shes finally slowed the frantic pace and adopted a West Coast mindset. Stay active, stay healthy, keep it simple. Enjoy the ride, enjoy the read. All of that works for her, but what she continues to enjoy most is writing stories she loves. She also loves reader feedback. Email her at jacquigoff@shaw.ca or visit Jenna Ryan on Facebook.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Alessandra NorrisThe Rapid City veterinarians life is peaceful, until her ex comes crashing back into it.
Gabriel McBrideAs a U.S. marshal, he is accustomed to danger, but when a hit mans bullet catches him off guard, the only person he can turn to is Alessandra.
Rory SimmsThe escaped felon is unpredictable, desperate and deadly.
Casey SimmsThe head of a powerful criminal family, she hired a hit man to take out McBride. But what else has she done?
Eddie RickardAlessandra saw the hit man on McBrides tail. Now shes a target, too.
Larry DentThis small-town man wants to help, but can he be trusted?
RavenThe woman knows how to fight, but is she friend or foe?
Mystery ShooterMore than one person is out to get Alessandra and McBride.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter One
The bullet that knocked U.S. marshal Gabriel McBride into the giant boulder caught him just below the left shoulder. Close enough to his heart to be a problemif hed actually believed he had a heart. He felt the blood andhell, yesthe pain, but no way was he going to fold up and die because some low-life hit man had gotten lucky.
He estimated the distance from the boulder to the road, waited until the next spectacular fork of lightning faded, then, using the darkness as a cover, ran for his truck.
Once inside, he drew a deep, grimacing breath and checked the wound. His jacket and shirt were soaked. With blood as much as rain, he suspected. Which rendered his next decision moot. He was approximately ten miles from Rapid City, South Dakota, shot and disinclined to call the people he should for help. That only left one option. Alessandra.
Fighting pain that speared white-hot through his arm and torso, he got the engine started. In spite of everything, a faint smile flitted across his lips. Alessandra would either cure him or kill him. Only she and God knew which way it would go.
Maybe he knew, too, but his thoughts were beginning to haze, so when he pictured his beyond beautiful veterinarian ex holding a scalpel, she wasnt necessarily using it to dig a bullet from his body.
Swinging the truck off the road one-handed, McBride relied on his memory rather than the headlights to guide him through the murk. A vivid flash of lightning had him swearing and pivoting left. Hed almost slammed into one of the rocks that lined the mountain road.
Concentrate, he told himself, and not on scalpels or death. It was three miles to the highway, another six to Alessandras door. With luck, hed spot his quarry on the way and find the strength to haul him in. Without it, big sisters hit man would cut him off and finish the job hed started.
Swiping his good forearm over his face, McBride let both hit man and quarry go, fought the dizziness that wanted to sweep in and consume him and focused on Alessandra.
If tonight was his last night on earth, he wanted to die with her in his head. As she had been since hed wedged aside a mangled piece of metal on a crumpled northbound bus and encountered her stunning gold eyes.
YOU COULD DO worse, much worse, than date my nephew. Alessandra Norriss assistant, Joan, tapped the veterinary clinics laptop. By the way, how do you spell the dogs last name?
On her knees, Alessandra smiled. Youre joking. She gave the black-and-tan German shepherd a quick scratch behind the ears before palpating his kidneys. You can spell Phoenix, but not Smith?
Its been a long day. Joans blue eyes rose to the fluttering overhead light. Storms getting worse, and this pooch is as healthy as Rin Tin Tin in his prime. Why was his owner so insistent we check him out tonight?
Because he just bought the dog, and the two of them are heading south tomorrow.
Not in that rattly old truck they rolled up in, theyre not.
The trucks borrowed. Theyre going by bus.
Her assistants eyebrows rose. Hes taking a dog on a bus?
Hey, I didnt make the plans.
You dont ride buses, either. Joan gave her a look. My sister and I are taking our usual tour bus trip to Las Vegas this fall. Its fun. Youd meet lots of interesting people. Thats people, Alessandra, not dogs. Every year we encourage you to come, and every year you say no. She shook an accusing finger. When youve got a phobia, you should march right up and spit in its eye.
Alessandra listened to the dogs heart. Beats good. Then she removed her stethoscope and scratched the animals chin. I almost got killed riding a bus, Joan. You know that.
But you didnt, and in the end, you wound up meeting your husband.
Soon to be ex-husband.
Well see.
Standing, Alessandra stretched out her lower back muscles. Is there some reason were having this conversation at ten oclock at night, in the middle of a storm thats going to knock the power out and probably screw up half of tomorrows appointments?
Tomorrows Saturday. Youre off. Doc Langll be stuck with any post-storm problems. Now, I want a commitment. Either you agree to come to Las Vegas with me and Lottie, or, come September, you get yourself ready to meet my nephew. McBridell sign those divorce papers eventually. When he does, youll be footloose and fancy free. Alessandras sixty-year-old assistant slitted a shrewd eye. Thats what you want, isnt it? To be done with what was so you can move on to what will be?
Alessandra hooked the lead onto Phoenixs collar. The dog had a flecked white mark in the shape of an arrow on his back. Her childhood dog, a brown lab, had had a mushroom-shaped mark that ran from its ears to the Whoa! Where on earth had that memory come from? she wondered. Unless it was part of a much bigger memory involving a bus trip gone bad, a childhood home left behind and a future ex.
Shaking it off, she patted the German shepherds butt. Are you this pushy with Dr. Lang?
Ill be worse than pushy if he leaves his wife of fifty years.
McBride and I were together for less than a tenth of that time.
Your maths off, Alessandra. You and McBride met seven years ago, back when he was a cop.
And the memories keep on coming. Opening the door to the reception area, Alessandra raised her voice above the thunder outside. Phoenix is in great shape, Mr. Smith.
The dogs owner, a beanpole with hollow cheeks and awkward hands, stood immediately. Thanks again for seeing us, Doc. I hope you wont have any trouble getting home in the storm.
I grew up in Indiana. This is just a summer shower. Good luck in the Southwest.
Leaving him to settle the bill with Joan, Alessandra returned to the examining room.
Gusting wind drove the rain in sheets against the windows and walls. Not a fit night for man or beast, she thought. Then she busied herself with anything and everything that would help stop her mind from drifting back seven years. Not enough, unfortunately. McBrides face had a way of sneaking in even when her guard was up. But tonight Joan hadnt merely damaged that guard; in typical jackhammer fashion, shed punched right through it.
Smith and his dog were rattling off when she closed the lab door and returned to the reception room. Go home, Joan. She held up a computer disk. I need to look at some back files before I leave.
Joan shed her pink smock. Workaholisms the first sign, you know.
Of what?
Boredom, depression, withdrawal, take your pick. Make up or break up, I say. She fluffed her short platinum curls. Personally, if Id nabbed myself a looker like McBride, Id have stuck.
Your ex-husband drove a big rig. Mines a cop turned U.S. marshal. Believe me when I tell you theres a difference.
And there we end it. Tugging on her rain gear, Joan pointed at the ceiling. Those lights are hanging on by their fingernails. Youd best work fast.
She intended to, Alessandra thought when a buckshot blast of wind and rain blew in with her assistants departure. One mile away, in the rancher shed scrimped and saved to purchase, was a claw-foot tub, a bottle of wine and a retrospective movie, all with her name on them.
Sliding the disk into her computer, she wondered if it was a sad comment on the state of her life that the highlight of a mid-August Friday night involved bubbles, pinot grigio and Cary Grant. Joan would say yes, but then Joan hadnt lived in the crazed nightmare that was Gabriel McBrides cop-dominated world for four-plus complicated years.
A rumbling peal of thunder shook the floor and walls. The lights and Alessandras computer screen flickered. She poured a cup of coffee, eyed the ceiling, then turned her attention to the subject of bovine anatomy.
She hadnt done anything wrong, she was sure of it. The calf that had lost its life to a massive infection had been, essentially if not literally, dead before the breeder had called her.
Unless shed missed something
The breeder, furious and threatening, insisted she had. What could an outsider possibly know about prize bulls?
By outsider he meant female. But it didnt matter to her, since the breeders opinion of Dr. Stuart Lang, whod been practicing medicine in South Dakota for the past forty years, was equally low. Glancing at scanned copies of the letters shed received from the breeder shortly after the calfs death, Alessandra sighed. If words could kill, shed be dead several times over by now.
Thirty minutes later, with the lights flickering and rain still lashing the windows, she closed the file and rocked her head from side to side.
Phone threats, written threats, Joans threatblind date or bus tripa dead calf and a feeling of guilt that wouldnt subside All in all, shed had better weeks. Which made her plans for that night even more appealing.
She needed moments of solitude, sometimes craved them. Her father, a staunch Mennonite farmer, hadnt understood why. Neither had he understood or approved of her desire to leave the comfort of a close-knit community and board a bus for Chicago. What could college there offer her but headaches and problems? Better to stay in Holcombe, Indiana, marry the boy next door and turn two small farms into one.
Shed looked at Toby next door, then at the application in her hand. Not that Toby wasnt sweet, but Northwestern had easily outpaced him. Shed wanted to save animals, not farm them.
Shed also wantedand gottenan adventure.
A bus ride gone bad had bled into a heros rescue, a marriage, a separation, a chance meeting with an aging vet and, finally, a pending lawsuit.
Taking a last sip of coffee, Alessandra wondered how Toby and the farm thing would have worked out. Shed probably be hiding chickens from her hubbys ax. Better the lawsuit, she decided.
The smoke detectors gave a long screech and a second later the lights died.
The clinic had an emergency generator, but since there were no animals in residence and Alessandra knew the layout well enough to locate her purse and trench coat, she didnt bother starting it up. Instead, she collected her things and let herself out the back door.
Wind snatched at her hair and coat like claws. Her car would start, it would. Although she probably shouldnt have let a seventeen-year-old delivery boy tune it up as payment for a full sheet of lab work on his aging retriever.