Bring the Heat (22 page)

Who was snoring? What room?

Her ears caught other sounds as well. An occasional
beep
, a
whirr
of some sort of machine. Her body felt heavy, too. Especially her right shoulder and arm.
Wait
.

The memories came flooding back, and when they did, she heard herself whimper. Partly in fear, partly because trying to move caused a shard of pain to lance through her shoulder.

“Laura? Sweetheart, it's me. You're safe and it's all over.”

Licking her lips, she croaked his name. “Austin?”

“Yes, honey. Can you open those gorgeous eyes for me?”

It didn't happen right away. But after a while her brain was awake enough to crack them open and get her first look at her lover since their argument. Quite simply, he looked wrecked.

His auburn hair was disheveled and his eyes were bruised, dark circles underneath. His clothes were wrinkled, as though he'd slept in them.

“Beautiful,” she said, giving him lopsided smile.

“Now I know the drugs are still making you loopy.” Smiling back, he clutched her hand. “What do you remember?”

“Everything,” she said, sobering. Then fear shot through her and her free hand went to her stomach. “The baby?”

“Is fine,” he reassured her, bending over to kiss her lips. “You don't know how sorry I am or how much I regret acting like such an ass about our child. Please believe me.”

“I do believe you, but I know you were scared.” Her lips curved up. “Just don't let it happen again.”

“I won't. I plan to spoil you as well, make sure you get plenty of rest when we get home.”

“Um, we? And where is home?” Butterflies that had nothing to do with new life suddenly played in her belly. She wanted this, so much.

“Home to me is anywhere you are. I just want to be with you. Wherever you want to be.”

Tears filled her eyes. “I want that, too. So very much. I love you, Austin.”

“I love you and our baby. You're both the light of my life.” He took a deep breath. “And I plan to spend the rest of my life showing you, if you'll have me.”

“Do you mean . . . ?” She didn't dare hope.

“This isn't how I planned to ask you, but, Laura Eden, will you marry me?”

The tears finally spilled over. “I don't even have to think about it. Yes! I want nothing more than to be your wife.”

“I don't know what you see in this old cop, but I'm so glad you're mine.”

Carefully, he took her into his arms and held her close. Cuddling into his warmth, she breathed in his musky scent and knew she was truly home.

“I see forever with the man I love.”

And she couldn't wait to get their future started.

•   •   •

Austin waited almost a week after Laura was released from the hospital to spring his surprise. Then he couldn't wait another single day.

One beautiful spring Saturday, he loaded her and their bags into his truck and took her for a drive. They
had another week off together before reality intruded in their lives again. Then she'd be back at work on light duty, half days, for another week or so. He wasn't taking any chances with her and his child.

“You're not going to tell me where we're going?” she asked curiously.

“You'll figure it out soon enough.” He gave her a wink.

As he'd predicted, she started smiling about halfway to their destination. She appeared extremely pleased when he turned down the driveway to the ranch.

“I knew it,” she said happily. “We get to stay a whole week?”

“Yes, we do.”

Once he pulled into the front, he unloaded their bags, flatly refusing to let her carry anything. Her shoulder was still healing and he was adamant that she not overdo things. With their stuff stashed in the master bedroom, he rejoined her in the foyer and then led her outside for a walk.

“I just love it here” she said happily. “I could stay here forever.”

“Could you? Really?”

“This is what I've always wanted. A place in the country, plenty of room for kids and animals. I loved four-wheeling with you.”

He gave her a quick kiss. “Well, we may not be doing that this time around,” he said, to her visible disappointment. “Sweetheart, it's not safe with your
shoulder, and I prefer you not ride one of those when you're pregnant.”

For a few seconds she looked like she was going to argue, then relented. “If it makes you feel better, I won't.”

“Thank you. We'll still go for long walks and visit our creek. Maybe even find some arrowheads.”

“That sounds like fun.”

They continued walking around the side of the property to the fence line, and stopped to lean on it and gaze over the rolling property. “I can almost see a few horses out there, can't you?” he asked, shooting her a sideways look.

“That would be wonderful. Too bad we can't have any.” She sounded so wistful, the expression on her beautiful face so melancholy.

“Who says we can't?”

She turned to face him. “We'd have to hire somebody to feed them, and we could only see them on weekends, at best. It wouldn't be fair to them.”

“Not necessarily, because I have a confession to make.” He paused, taking both of her hands in his. “A few weeks ago I called my Realtor and placed my house up for sale—the one I shared with Ashley. It sold this morning.”

“Oh, Austin,” she said, squeezing his hands. Her face was full of concern for him. “Are you certain that's what you want to do?”

“Positive. I'm ready to start the rest of my life, and that life is with you. My parents said they'd give me a
fair price for this place. I've got some money already, and with the sale of the house, we'll be set.”

Concern slowly transformed to joy. “Are you saying . . . ?”

“I want us to make our home here, if that's what you want. You, me, and our children. What do you say?”

Suddenly his arms were full of bouncing, excited woman. Laughing, he gathered her close and held her carefully, mindful of her shoulder. When they pulled apart, he kissed her thoroughly. Loving every second of being with her, starting their new future.

“I take it that's a yes?” he asked with a grin.

“Yes!”

“Excellent. What do you say we make some plans? Horses, other animals, new furniture?”

“Yes to all that! And Max, my cat. We'll have to bring him.”

“Of course.”

Smiling, he wrapped his arm around her as they walked, and listened to her plans. He didn't care what she wanted—he'd give her anything at all. He couldn't believe he'd gone from being the saddest, loneliest man he knew to the happiest, in the space of a few weeks. He'd never, ever take Laura or this new life for granted.

He was a new man, reborn.

Thanks to the woman he loved.

Read on for a preview of another Sugarland Blue novel

On the Run

Available from Signet
Eclipse.

The stench reached his consciousness first.

Then the pain. All over, racking agony, which proved he wasn't dead yet, though he didn't have a clue how that could be.

Awareness of being trapped came next. Buried. But not in the dirt. As he tried to move, various items surrounding him shifted and rolled away. With his fingertips he felt . . . cans. Paper. Slime. Old food? Cold knowledge gripped him, turned his blood to ice.

After the bastards were finished with me, they threw me out with the garbage. Literally
.

Move, Salvatore. Move or you're dead.

Using his hand, he sought the air. Pushed and clawed, twisting his body in the stinking refuse. The weight on top of him was heavy but not crushing. They'd meant to hide his body, completely confident he wouldn't awaken, or make it out even if he had. He tried not to think they might have been right.

At last, fresh air. But as he broke through the pile, the heap sloped downward sharply and he was tumbling sideways. For several feet he fell, being jabbed and poked by sharp edges until he landed in the dirt at
the bottom, the wind knocked out of him. Breathing was almost impossible, his lungs burning. He was hurt inside and out.

His eyes opened to slits, and he tried to peer into the darkness. All he could make out was a sea of garbage. No moon or stars. Worse, little hope.

They'd thrown him into the dump miles outside the city, where nobody in their right mind would venture.
Don't give up.

Drawing his legs under him, he pushed upward. His legs were like rubber, his strength almost nonexistent. He made it halfway to a standing position before crashing back to the ground with a hoarse cry. God, the pain. His entire body felt hot and cold by turns, and swollen like a balloon. Any second, he would split and spill onto the ground like the plastic bags all around him vomiting their guts. His skin and clothing were wet, too, from head to toe.

He knew it wasn't all from the slime of the trash.

Shaking, Tonio crawled forward on his belly, inch by inch. Time lost meaning. An hour or three might have passed, though he didn't think it had been so long—he would have already been dead.

Wetness ran down his forehead, down the bridge of his nose. Gradually, he grew cold. So cold he knew he'd never get warm again. What was he doing? Why had he been abandoned in this godforsaken place? Too much blood loss. Confusion. He tried to remember, couldn't. Knew it was the beginning of the end.

Anthony. I'm Anthony Salvatore, and I'm a cop. Have to get out of here, get help. Let them know—what?

Her name whispered through his mind like a promise. Or a nightmare. He didn't know which, and now he might never.

Angel.

Have to let Chris, somebody, know about Angel. Because if I fail . . .

Sister or not, Rab would kill her. He would show her no mercy, and she would end up here, in a grave next to Tonio. No matter what she'd done, her betrayal, he couldn't let that happen.

“Angel.”

Her name was on his lips, her beautiful face in his mind, and the memory of her warm, supple body close to his heart when his strength finally deserted him.

Angel's or devil's mistress. Dark or light. He'd wanted years to learn her secrets, and been granted only weeks. It would have to be enough.

“Be smart, baby,” he rasped. “Stay safe.”

Against his will, his eyes drifted shut.

And Tonio surrendered to the darkness.

Five weeks earlier

Detective Tonio Salvatore leaned against the bar in his favorite dive, where the regulars only knew him by his first name, and sipped his whiskey, neat.

They didn't know what he did for a living, either, and nobody ever asked. He figured, if anything, they had him pegged for a dangerous thug of some sort, maybe into drugs or fencing stolen goods like three-quarters of the guys there. Because he was dressed as
he always was when he came here, in leathers, a tight black Metallica T-shirt, heavy boots, a five-o'clock shadow on his jaw, and a bandanna around his short raven hair, it was a reasonable assumption.

It didn't hurt that he was six-four and muscular and looked mean, even though he wasn't unless he had to be.

Stroker's was a rough place with an even rougher clientele, but it suited him despite his job—or maybe because of it. It was the perfect place to keep his finger on the pulse of Cheatham County's criminal activity without risking being seen and recognized in his nearby city of Sugarland, Tennessee. He wasn't here in any official capacity, though. He just wanted to relax, incognito.

And maybe see some action that involved the weapon in the front of his leathers and not the one strapped to his ankle.

Taking another sip of his Dewar's, he savored the smooth flavor and recalled the sweet little piece of work from last weekend. The blonde—what was her name? Trish? Tess? Didn't matter. She'd been all over him from the minute she spied him at the bar, and it hadn't taken her long to maneuver her way between his legs as he sat on the stool, then proceed to check his tonsils with her tongue.

His cock stirred as he remembered giving her a ride on his Harley to the motel down the road, his go-to for one-night stands, which provided him and his chosen partners with relief. No way was he taking any of them home. He wasn't stupid.

The blonde had hugged him tightly from behind, pressed her breasts against his back, her hot crotch against his ass, and he'd nearly wrecked trying to get them to the motel. Inside, they'd been naked in seconds, and he'd eaten her out, enjoying the moaning and breathy little whimpers coming from her throat. She'd dug her fingers into his short hair and held on for the ride as he'd thrown her onto the bed, slid his cock deep, and fucked her so hard, the headboard had cracked the plaster on the wall.

Looking around, he hoped she'd be back tonight.

“Another round?” the bartender asked. The guy's name was Rick, and he was as tough as anyone here. Had to be to work in a place like this. Tonio knew for a fact the man kept a baseball bat behind the counter and wouldn't hesitate to use it.

“Sure,” he answered. Fuck it, he was off duty tonight.

“Comin' up.”

His night improved when the little blonde with the perky bust and tight jeans strolled through the front door. He turned back to his drink, making sure not to clue her in that he'd noticed her arrival. As he thought she might, pretty soon a warm body sidled close to him, and a woman's voice whispered in his ear.

“Fancy meeting you here, Tonio.” Small teeth nibbled at his ear lobe. “Buy a girl a drink?”

“You bet.” Damn, what
was
her name?

“Hey, Tess,” Rick said in greeting. “What's your poison tonight, baby girl?”

Settling on the stool beside Tonio, she brought a long
manicured nail to her lips in thought. Then she grinned. “How about a Screaming Orgasm?”

Rick snorted and winked at her, then smirked at Tonio. “Don't think you need me for that one, but whatever the lady wants.”

While Rick mixed her drink, she swiveled to face Tonio. Leaning over enticingly, she showed every bit of the rosy nipples under her plunging blouse and eyed him like a cat ready to pounce on a mouse. They both knew she wouldn't have to work real hard to catch him.

“Watcha been up to, sexy?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Not much. Messing with my bike, doing a little business to keep a roof over my head. The usual.” All true, even if he'd just effectively skewed her perception of him possibly being a criminal even further. Why he was playing this game, he wasn't sure.

But they were both enjoying it, so what was the harm? He might learn something interesting.

“What do you do to keep that roof over your head, hmm?” She took the drink Rick slid over and took a healthy swallow.

He'd stepped into this willingly. But there was no question he had to develop a cover now. Besides Tess, Rick and a couple of other men were very interested in his answer and were trying to pretend they weren't. Who knew? He might luck onto a case that would lead somewhere, eventually to arrests for drugs, or who knew what else? Sure, his captain would have his balls for going out on his own, but if it led to something big, he'd forgive Tonio just as fast.

“I acquire things,” he heard himself say. “For those who want them.”

She arched a brow. “What kinds of things?”

“Whatever you want, for a fee.”

“Anything?”

“Pretty much.”

Tess wasn't fazed. “Good to know. I might be persuaded to pass that along.”

“Up to you.” Pulse kicking up a notch, he tossed back the rest of his drink, letting his demeanor say he didn't give a shit whether she did or not. But he'd gotten a nibble that might lead to something bigger, and the game was on. The high was better than any drug.

Almost better than sex. But not quite.

After taking another drink, she slid a hand up the thigh of his leathers and brushed her fingers across his tightened crotch. “I can provide something
you
want, too.”

His dick was throbbing in his pants. Hot.

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.” Leaning into his chest, she took his mouth and tangled her tongue with his. Her nipples grazed his chest and peaked to tiny eraser points, rubbing. Driving him crazy.

“Want to get out of here?” he asked between heated kisses.

“Sounds like a great idea,” a woman's voice said. And it wasn't Tess's.

Tonio and his hookup turned toward the woman who'd stalked up to them without either of them noticing—and Tonio's breath caught. The woman was
several inches below Tonio's height—perhaps five-nine—long-limbed with a killer body that looked like she'd just stepped from the pages of a skin magazine. Long dark hair fell past her shoulders, almost all the way to her waist. Her eyes were large and green, and her nose was a sharp blade above a full, lush mouth made for sucking cock. Full, ripe breasts pushed at the snug cotton shirt, which had been cut with scissors or a knife to make it a low V-neck and sleeveless as well. She wore tight jeans and black ankle boots with silver conchos studded around them. Encircling her right upper arm was a surprisingly feminine Celtic tattoo. His mouth watered. The look, which would have come across as tacky on anyone else, was stunning on her.

Definitely centerfold material.

“What the fuck do you want, Angel?” Tess was clearly less than pleased with the other woman's presence.

“Are you really that stupid?” Angel stared at her, then shook her head. “You know this is Rab's territory. He's not going to be happy to find you here again, and he's not taking you back.”

What? Stuck in the middle of Tess's trying to make another man jealous? Fuck.

“You think I give a shit what that asshole thinks, or what makes him happy?”

Angel sighed. “Look, I'm telling you this for your own good. My brother— Crap, too late. Here he comes now.”

Angel really did look worried, Tonio had to admit. When Tess glanced toward the door, she did, too. Who
was this Rab guy who had the women so nervous? Tonio followed their gazes and cursed inwardly.

The man who held their attention was a frigging tank, maybe even an inch or so taller than Tonio himself. He was about thirty or so and bald, and wore his tats proudly as sleeves down both thick arms. Several pendants bounced against his broad chest, and he wore jeans that emphasized his muscular thighs.

Rab headed straight for their group, a steely expression on his face. Tonio slid from his stool and planted himself slightly in front of the women on pure instinct. This wasn't even his fight, for God's sake.

“Bitch,” the man growled, throwing his sister the barest glance. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Tonio's back went up. He absolutely
hated
any man who addressed a woman as
bitch
. Only bottom-feeders resorted to that kind of talk to make themselves seem like bigger men.

“What do you think?” she purred slyly. Curling into Tonio's side, she wrapped an arm around his waist. “I'm here for a drink, same as you. A little company, too. No harm in that.”

“There is when you know goddamn well I don't want to see your face.” His eyes were dark and cold, like black marbles. He hadn't acknowledged Tonio at all.

“Fine,” she said airily. “I guess I won't introduce you to my friend Tonio here, who has a special talent.”

That icy gaze settled on Tonio for the first time, and inwardly he actually shuddered. That didn't happen often. There weren't many people who scared him. But
there was something about this man he perceived as dangerous. Even deadly. Maybe it was because he was too still, too calm. As though watching and calculating.

“What talent might that be?” Rab drawled, checking him out from head to toe, his disdain clear.

“Acquisitions,” Tess said pointedly.

And here we go
.

That caught the other man's interest. “What's your specialty?”

“Don't have one. Someone wants something, I get it.” That was taking a risk, not specializing. It might have sounded too close to fishing on Tonio's part. Too suspect.

Rab studied him for a long moment. Tonio held his gaze, not backing down.
Never, ever volunteer more than you're asked. That's the first rule of being undercover
. Eventually, the other man spoke again.

“You got a last name?”

“Reyes,” he lied.

“You got a number?”

Shit.
He couldn't give out his real cell phone number—he'd have to get a burner, fast. And have an unpleasant conversation with Rainey first thing tomorrow. He was onto something here. He could feel it. The room had hushed, every single person there tense. Belatedly, Tonio noted all the men dressed in a similar fashion who'd risen to their feet and moved subtly behind Rab. None of them appeared to be the stereotypical bumbling backwoods yokel. They looked tough and serious. He'd bet most of them had done hard time.