Too Sexy for his Stetson (33 page)

BOOK: Too Sexy for his Stetson

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“So, Deputy—” He kissed the salty rivulets from her cheeks, her chin, her throat. “Did I hear right yesterday? What you said at the powerhouse?”

“You heard right.” She whispered, “I love you.”

“That’s a yes, then? You’ll marry me?”

For a long moment, she contemplated. When she looked up, her face was deadly somber.

Blade’s heart dropped to his ankles.

“Lieutenant, you are just too damn sexy for your Stetson.”

All the air in the universe evaporated.

“So,” she said, grinning, “I guess I’ll just have to keep you in my sights forever.”

Blade sighed into her hair and held her to his chest. “This is what home feels like.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Brandy said. “
This
is what home feels like.”

Excerpt from
Shadow of Deceit

T
he gun Shannon came across at the bottom of a neatly folded stack of masculine attire on her bed shouldn’t have surprised her. She’d seen the agent’s Glock earlier.

Intrigued, she reached for the pistol, an object that seemed so out of place in her bedroom. As though she were familiar with handling firearms when she wasn’t, she wrapped her hand around the grip then jerked her head toward the bathroom door, conjuring up thriller fantasies.

But she didn’t have to conjure anything when she noticed a letter poking out of Crazaniak’s inside jacket pocket. Nor did she have to imagine the fact that the closet door stood slightly ajar. Her stomach clenched, a mix of anger and unease. Had the FBI agent been nosing through Tyler’s belongings?

Tit for tat—the urge to sneak a peek overwhelmed her. Her heartbeat ratcheted up as she shifted the gun to her left hand and reached for the letter.

At that instant, she sensed a presence behind her. Even as the sound of water pounded the walls of the tub enclosure, Shannon knew in her heart of hearts that six foot–plus of dripping wet, naked man stood not relaxing under the water jets, but hovering five heart–palpitating feet away.

“Want to toss me my clothes?” he asked.

Unwilling to face him, she remained quick–frozen like a pillar of ice.

“Tell me you weren’t snooping in my things,” he rumbled.

“Tell me you weren’t snooping in my closet.”

“ I wasn’t snooping.”

She eyed the edge of the letter. “I thought I’d treat your duds to some suds. You want to hang out in my robe for a few?”

“Not enough material there to cover my manly attributes. I’ll settle for day–old Jockeys, and what the hell were you doing with my pistol?”

“Nothing.” She almost turned around.

Her chest thumped. The thought of Crazaniak
au natural
not only spiked her pulse, it titillated her imagination. She waited for a chord of guilt to strum across her heart. It didn’t happen. Instead, discord fluttered low in her abdomen, and she sensed him moving closer.

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Shadow of Deceit

About The Author

Mal Olson writes adrenaline kicked romantic suspense. She enjoys skydiving, ski jumping, SCUBA, hang gliding, big wave surfing, car racing, mountain climbing—that is, vicariously through her characters, who are always kick–ass, and often boss her around rather than allowing her to spin her stories the way she intends. (She did, however, personally engage in zip lining this past summer.)

Her debut novel Shadow of Deceit, released by The Wild Rose Press in 2012, is an edge of the seat romantic suspense–thriller set in Milwaukee and parts of northern Wisconsin. A couple of her favorite reviews came from Beverly at The Wormhole, who said, “Wow! This one has it all! Non–stop action, hot and sexy characters, betrayal, smokin’ romance, and a thrilling plot––” and Gothic Mom’s Book Review, which stated, “In the 150+ books that I read per year, there are very few that receive a five star rating. Shadow of Deceit did just that. Non stop action, sexual tension, an adventure that had me on the edge of my seat…A fantastic book that had me from page one…”

When her characters aren’t bossing her around, she squeezes in time for reading, watching Packer football, flower gardening, jamming with friends on the mountain dulcimer, and hiking in a nearby state forest (or in the mountains somewhere). She has three grown children and one granddaughter and resides with her own special hero in southeast Wisconsin where she juggles writing time with her freelance landscape design business. Find out more at www.malolson.com

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