Don't Forget Me (44 page)

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Authors: Meg Benjamin

BOOK: Don't Forget Me
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Headstrong:

Colin set the knife down, turning to aim a warm, sad smile at her. “You fancy Reece, don’t you?”

She bit back her own smile and nodded, hoping this wasn’t about to turn awkward. “Is it that obvious?”

“Nah. I’m just good with that sort of stuff. Don’t worry. Reece is oblivious.”

She looked down, then fixed Colin with a narrowed eye. “Do you think he’d ever like me back? You know,
like me
, like me?” She knew she sounded like a twelve-year-old, but Colin was easy to level with—Good Cop to Reece’s Bad Cop.

“I dunno. You mean if you dropped your provocateur shtick and quit winding him up all the time?”

“Maybe.”

He sighed. “I hate to be the one to piss on your parade, but you’re not really his type. Historically speaking.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry.”

She frowned at the insecurity squirming in her middle. “What’s his type?”

“Quiet, for one. Smart but, like, book-smart. Not scary, evil-genius smart like you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Unlike Reece, I googled you. This morning.”

Her stomach flip-flopped. “Oh?”

He nodded. “Don’t worry. He doesn’t want to know what you did to freak your dad out—he can be a bit of a basket case about ethics. Stalking you notwithstanding. I think he’s going with the ignorance-is-bliss approach, so that’s just between you and me and the internet.”

“Good,” she said, not entirely relieved. “So you know, I’m not in New Zealand to start any trouble.” Her history was murky, riddled with police run-ins over various minor offenses. And some not-so-minor.

Colin shrugged. “I like your kind of trouble. But I believe you—if you were out to cause that type of chaos, you came to the wrong country. I’m willing to believe you’re here for the glowworms.”

She nodded.

“And at any rate, Reece fancies boring girls. Sweet…
curvy
.”

“Now
that
I am not.”

“Nah. You’re a panther. Reece is into house cats. Girls who teach kindergarten or start their own catering companies. Wholesome stuff like that.”

Libby pouted.

“Hey, don’t give up or anything. You’re bloody hot the way you are. I’d wrap your legs around my ears in a heartbeat.”

“Poetic. Thanks, Tiger.”

He shrugged. “You know Reece. Or actually, you don’t. He’s…he’s like a monk, all calm and disciplined. He’s been that way since he was born. You’re like a tornado let loose in his monastery. Personally, I think you’d be good for him. But I don’t know if he’d agree… I hope he does. He could use a little chaos.”

“Maybe.”

“But if you’re driving him loopy,” Colin went on, “thinking it’s going to win him over, you’re wasting your time. Reece doesn’t go in for head games. You might want to try a little sincerity. He’s a sucker for the straight and narrow.”

“I see.” Libby contemplated the option of sincerity for a moment. The thought of all that openhearted honesty made her feel naked.

Colin straightened up. “If you don’t mind my asking, what do you see in Reece? Not that you
shouldn’t
see something. I’m just curious.” He tossed tomatoes into the pan, seeming uncomfortable with own jealousy.

Libby raised her eyebrows, deciding recklessly to play with a little of Colin’s fire. “Do you think I’m barking up the wrong Nolan?”

“I know it’s none of my business.”

“You think you could teach me a thing or two, don’t you?”

He smiled deeply and, if Libby wasn’t mistaken, blushed. “What makes you think I wouldn’t prefer to be the student, eh?”

It was Libby’s turn to blush.
Oh, if you only knew.

“I can tell you’ve only got eyes for my brother. Although Christ knows why,” Colin said through a sigh, pretending to be insulted by her preference. “But if you’re looking for a Kiwi conquest, I’m delighted you’ve set your sights within our lucky little flat. Let me know if I can aid in the expedition at all. He could do with having his brains properly fucked out. Might loosen him up.” He didn’t notice Libby’s deepening flush. “Reece, though? You do like a challenge.”

Libby looked at her feet. “Well, I mostly like that he’s never made a pass at me. Or even really looked at me, that way.”

Colin laughed. “Oh, he has. He’s just too Zen master to show it.”

She glanced up. “You think?”

“You’re hard to ignore, Libby, even without the nonstop flirting. You make a trackie top look like a teddy. Reece has noticed you. He said he saw you dancing about in your togs on the beach.”

“That he did.”

“Poor bastard.” Colin handed her a fresh cup of coffee.

“Thanks. Well, he’s never made me feel like he was checking me out. He’s…he’s not a creep.”

“Nah, he’s a gentleman. He’ll make a good plod.”

“A what?”

“A copper,” Colin said. “He’s meant to start training for the police in a few months.”

Libby gaped. “
Seriously?

“Yeah. He’ll be great at it.” Colin looked genuinely proud. He flipped the sausages with a sizzle.

“Wow.” Libby Prentiss, policeman’s wife. How twisted would
that
be? “But wait—so they’ll have to do like a whole background check on Reece, presumably.”

“Yeah, all that good stuff. I know what you’re thinking.” Colin cracked an egg into a second pan. “About what he agreed to do for your dad?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded. “Reece took a big chance on that. If you’d reported him when you caught him, for spying on you or whatever, he’d have been buggered. Or if he got caught, doing shady, under-the-table shit.” He cracked another egg. “Buggered.”

“Why’d he do it, then? He doesn’t seem to want the job.”

“We need the money.” Colin’s voice turned heavy. “Pretty bad. Our dad died in January, and we’re up to our necks in bills and unpaid accounts for the pub. It’s all a bit effed up. Our mum kept it all quiet until after he passed. He was a good guy but he took on some investments he shouldn’t have, this nasty spiral of IOUs. We owe money all over the place and business is
not
good. Pub’s on the brink, and that’s all we’ve really got.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Libby thought for a moment. “How much money?”

“About eighty grand. On top of the usual accounts.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah, it’s a whopping great mess. Every week some supplier or other cuts us off. Our mum’s probably going to have to give up her house, and even then we’ll still be in the red. This nest could get mighty cozy, soon.” Colin glanced around the flat, his apprehension plain. “Trust me, Reece would never have taken that job if we weren’t hard up for the cash.”

“I’ll bet.”

Colin flipped the eggs. “Reece is cautious, to a fault. Always has been. I was as shocked as anybody when he said he was going to work for your dad. But he’s been gone a long time, and he was MIA for some rough shit that’s gone on around here. I think this is his way of making up for all that, or trying to. Doesn’t look like he’s feeling too keen for it now though. Failure’s not his strong suit. Don’t take it too personally if he’s hard on you. You wrecked his plans. Give him some time to lick his wounds.”

Libby nodded, thinking. “Well if Reece doesn’t want my father’s gig, why don’t you do it? I’m trying to convince him to be my double agent. Document me on my own terms, for a generous bonus. He’s not really taking the bait. If he hates it so much, you should do it. Maybe Reece could recommend you as a replacement.”

Colin laughed, his eyes squinting and his dimple reappearing. He turned to Libby and held out his tattooed arms, presenting himself as a package. “No father would hire me to stalk their daughter.”

He had a point. “No, I guess not. And not my father, especially.”

“Plus I’ve already got two jobs. And anyway—don’t pretend you’re not hoping my brother’ll be forced to keep sharing your company.”

“Touché.”

He’s handsome, hot, hunted and hurt…a plea for help from this detective is one her heart can’t refuse.

 

Stowaway

© 2011 Becky Barker

 

Keri Merritt desperately needs her long-overdue vacation, preferably as far as she can get from anyone with a badge. It’s not that she doesn’t respect those modern knights, but between her job as a trauma nurse and her overprotective law enforcement family, she’s overrun.

When she finds something in the back of her truck she definitely didn’t pack, all hope of a peaceful break from reality burns away in the heat of a dark, fevered gaze. Behind those chocolate eyes lies everything she wants to avoid.

Nick Lamanto is in trouble. He’s tracked the mastermind of a gunrunning operation from Florida to Tennessee, only to wind up with an attempted murder warrant hanging over his head, a bullet in his arm and no one he can trust. Except the sheriff’s petite, strong-willed daughter, whose jittery finger is on the trigger of the .45 pointed between his eyes.

Lucky for Nick, Keri’s healing instinct kicks in. And so does a powerful attraction sharper than the needle with which she stitches him. As the threads of his investigation connect with unanswered questions about Keri’s past, keeping her safe matters more to him than his next breath. Even if it’s his last…

Warning: If you have a weakness for dark-haired, dark-eyed law enforcement officers with strong protective instincts, prepare to lose your heart.

 

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Stowaway:

Keri stared at the metal shackles in stunned fascination. Her dad stored them in the first-aid kit too, but she’d never imagined them being used on her. After a split second of hesitation, she began to struggle, but Lamanto had anticipated the reaction. He swiftly pulled her left arm behind her back, jerking her body full force against the strength of his own. Her breath hitched at his closeness.

He should be as weak as a kitten, yet the steel of his muscles swiftly squashed any desire for a physical skirmish. She just wasn’t sure enough she’d win. She abruptly stopped struggling, tilted her head and glared at him.

“You have a great way of showing your appreciation for my help,” she snapped. “I should have held you at gunpoint until my dad could come get you.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “You should have.”

Keri clenched her teeth in frustration. Another damned man who thought he knew what was best for her.

She glared harder, and he returned her gaze with a steady, unblinking stare. Their hearts pounded frantically in their chests, beating against each other with tension heightened by the strength and heat of his body.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he swore softly, never losing eye contact. “But I’m not going to let you turn me in, either.”

“I don’t suppose my word is good enough to get this handcuff off?” she tried.

“No.” His tone brooked no argument, but his mouth curved in a rakish smile. A glimmer of amusement lit his fevered eyes. Even in their not-too-amiable situation, he oozed charm. He enjoyed provoking her.

Keri’s heart tripped again. Damn but the man was handsome. A woman would have to be dead not to appreciate his aesthetic beauty. Up close, she noticed the ebony hair of his eyebrows had the slightest tendency to curl. Deep laughter lines slit the corners of his eyes and softer grooves at his mouth. His mouth was wide, with sensuously full, firm lips. His skin dark and smooth, pulling tight across high cheekbones.

She stared into his eyes, watching his gaze drop to her lips. His eyelids dropped too, dark lashes sweeping downward. Her pulse fluttered with unexpected and unwelcome excitement. She felt the metal of her father’s gun gently pressing against her back, but she felt no fear. In a blink of his fascinating eyes, their battle of wills had become a battle of the sexes.

The air between them electrified, sizzling her nerves. The throbbing of her own pulse nearly deafened her. Keri struggled to shrug off the heavy lethargy invading her body.

Please, no
, she mentally begged the gods of desirability. Please don’t let this be the fiercest physical attraction she’d experienced in her whole life. Please make her quaking nerves and erratic pulse a result of exhaustion or frustration. She would not accept an attraction for this man.

“You feel good,” he murmured as though surprised by the revelation. “And you smell good too.”

The arm holding her tightened fractionally. He didn’t hurt her, yet he threatened Keri’s composure. Her breathing faltered and her breasts swelled against the solid wall of his chest.

She frantically searched her tired brain for a rational explanation. The fruitless search caused an unreasonable spurt of panic in its wake. Defensive and feeling desperate, she pressed her free hand against his chest and shoved.

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