Fatal Wild Child

by

When Seth O'Connor pulls Gabrielle Sherborne out from under her wrecked car in the middle of an icy river high in the Canadian Rockies just before Christmas, he never thought someone might actually be gunning for the infamous wild child of the famous Hollywood director, Cameron MacKenzie Sherborne III, and the family that puts up with her antics.

Told by his superiors to insert himself into the Sherborne family and protect Gabrielle, Seth learns that the former film star is anything but a brat. She’s all woman, incredibly sexy and smart, with a vulnerability that eats right through the armor over his heart. That makes doing his job suddenly very tough for Captain Seth O'Connor, for the unfriendlies are closing in…

Other books by Tracy Cooper-Posey

Eyes of a Stranger

Chronicles of the Lost Years

Case of the Reluctant Agent

Dare to Return

Diana by the Moon

Forbidden (writing as Anastasia Black)

Red Leopard

Solstice Surrender

Heart of Vengeance

Dangerous Beauty (writing as Anastasia Black)

Silent Knight

Lucifer’s Lover

Black Heart

Thief in the Night

Masquerade’s Mate

Cameo Role

Ningaloo Nights

Betting With Lucifer

Dead Double

Dead Again

Blue Knight

Blood Knot

Writing as Teal Ceagh

Beth’s Acceptance

Mia’s Return

Sera’s Gift

Eva’s Last Dance

Carson’s Night

Kiss Across Time

Beauty’s Beasts

Destiny’s Trinity

Kiss Across Swords

See
http://TracyCooperPosey.com
for details on each title.

by

STORIES RULE PUBLICATIONS

A sole proprietorship owned and operated

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

This is an original publication of Tracy Cooper-Posey

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

Copyright © 2011 by Tracy Cooper-Posey

Text design by Tracy Cooper-Posey

Cover design by Dar Albert

Wicked Smart Designs

http://wickedsmartdesigns.com

All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

FIRST EDITION: April 2011

ISBN 978-0-9869064-5-9

Cooper-Posey, Tracy

Fatal Wild Child/Tracy Cooper-Posey – 1
^st
Ed.

To my Mum and Dad
who toured through these mountains
less than a year ago.

My thanks to my fabulous beta readers:
Shannon, Desiree, Deb, Jennifer, Ashley, Stephanie, Fedora.

Thank you, Dar, for the wonderful cover and
for your ability to mind read.
 
Again.

Chapter One

Seth O'Connor never thought he'd find himself crouched in a defensive posture against unknown armed aggression in the middle of Jasper National Park
at ten in the morning on a knock-out December day, surrounded by the Canadian Rockies he'd grown up amongst. These peaks were childhood friends.

Something had triggered his instincts, though. Something had made him hunch over. He straightened up, trying to laugh at himself. In Canada? In December? Even the bears were deeply asleep. He threw the cross-country skis and poles into the back of his truck and climbed in behind the wheel. He paused, listening.

There. The squeal of rubber on the Yellowhead, coming from Jasper. Moving fast.

He got the truck going. Someone was in a hurry. Maybe that was what had spooked him, but he didn't think so. He eased the truck along the rough track of rutted, compacted snow and nosed it out onto the highway, then waited for the car to appear. There was no need to get in front of it.

He rolled down the window. The sun was gently warming, today. It was one of those perfectly glorious days when the tourists thought it was cute to strip down to bikinis and ski boots and take photos because the ambient air was above zero, even though the snow was still a good foot thick on the ground. He turned his face up to the sun, letting the truck idle.

God, it was good to be back home. He could actually pretend he was something like a normal person once again. Reassure Mom he was alive. Drink beer and watch the Oilers get creamed.

Then the Mustang rounded the curve—barely. He saw the face of the driver and everything changed.

Her eyes were wide, fiercely focused on the road ahead. Her hands were gripped on the wheel, the knuckles white. Her face was completely bereft of color.

That was all Seth saw of the driver before the teal Mustang flashed past him, the rear fishtailing down the steep gradient. His chest squeezed and his heart landed somewhere inside his stomach and gave out a protest.

No brakes. The Mustang was a stream-lined bullet building up speed with every second.

"Jesus Christ," Seth whispered, throwing the truck into gear, and ramming his foot on the gas.

Did she know enough to use the gears to slow herself down? The handbrake?

He pushed the truck into top gear. It rattled after the teal-colored runaway as the little car rounded a curve, brushing up against the reinforced outer wall of the curve with a metal scream. Sparks jumped.

"Good girl," Seth whispered. She was trying to slow herself down. But it was a risky move. Too hard a hit and she'd go into an uncontrolled spin and fly out over the inner edge of the curve.

She kept control and shot out the other side of the hairpin bend, her velocity slightly slower than before, but still scary.

Seth wrenched the wheel, sending the truck around the bend, gaining on her. He tried to make some fast mental calculations on what to do next. Then he heard the nauseating sound of grinding gears. She was trying to slow herself down with the gears. There was no perceptible check in her speed, but she was on a straight stretch of road, where the river ran parallel and the decline was almost three in one.

There was a truck passing lane where trucks would slow to a painful inch-per-second as they climbed. Her speed was going to pick up.

Seth could feel sweat breaking out on his forehead. At the other end of this straight stretch was a curve to the left, hard and sharp. With a big pick up in speed, she'd never make it.

He looked at the river on the right. The drop off from the roadbed into the river here was shallow. A meter or two at most. And water was a softer landing than mountains.

With his decision made, Seth could feel calm descending. He dropped the shift down a gear. The engine roared as the truck surged forward. He just needed to get ahead enough to nudge her sideways...

As soon as the truck had the necessary speed, he pushed it back into top gear and kept the gas pedal flat on the floor, despite the screaming motor. The square nose of the truck came level with the low-slung Mustang. Judging carefully, he waited until they were at the place where the river was deep and the road was low.

Then he hauled on the steering wheel, turning the nose of the Mustang into the water. It shot off the tarmac bed of the road, floating across air for a second or two, the heavier nose end of the car dipping down.

Then the nose hit the rocky bed at the edge of the water, just as his heavier truck's wheels crunched down into the snow-covered stony ground edging the road. He braked hard and threw himself out of the truck.

The Mustang's engine was still running. The rear of the Mustang flipped up, showing the axle still turning, then the whole car toppled over into the icy water.

Seth stripped off his coat and sweater and pulled at the ties on his boots, moving fast. He tore off everything but his boxers, his heart pounding. The touch of the snow on his feet didn't even impact. He ran for the river and the now silent Mustang as it settled slowly into the raging water, sinking down.

* * * * *

Gabrielle realized she was still gripping the steering wheel, even though her knees were dangling against it. It took an effort of will to let go of the wheel. Even then her flesh stuck to the leather and she had to peel away her hands.

Her head hurt. Her heart was thundering her ears. And she could hear water.

Water!

With a gasp, she remembered exactly where she was and tried to sit up. That was why her head hurt. She was hanging upside down in her car, in the river. If she didn't get out, the water would push through the windows in a few seconds and she'd drown. Already she could feel the deep freeze chill from the water all around her.

She was going to have to move through it to get out. No choice. If she didn't, she'd die.

Tears gathered in her eyes. Why her? Why now? She'd tried so hard...

She pummeled her thigh. "Stop it, stop it!" she muttered.

First things first. Get rid of the seat belt. She reached for her hip and pushed the button. She crumpled to the roof of the car and realized that she now had to act fast, for she landed in six inches of ice cold water that had seeped in through the windows. "Oh my god!" She tried to lift her hands and knees out of it all at once, but that was impossible. The stuff was barely above freezing. Her jeans and scoop-necked sweater, which she had worn to keep the conservative members of the family happy now seemed like bikinis in a gale. Inadequate.

Her coat was in the back seat. Unreachable. And she couldn't feel her feet at all. Despite her boots, they were already blocks of ice. So were her hands. And she still had to open one of the windows, take a breath and swim for her life.