Out of Character. Diana Miller

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      Cover Copy

      Stepping out of your comfort zone can be hazardous…

      Denver, Colorado, ER doctor Jillian Rodgers has never done an impulsive thing in her life. But all that changes when she meets the man of her dreams on a ski vacation. Within twenty-four hours, they’ve spent a passionate night together and Jillian is convinced she’s halfway in love. After all, she figures the worst that can happen is she’ll go home with a broken heart…But the man pretending to be an ordinary guy is far from it. In fact, he shouldn’t get anywhere near Jillian. Yet there’s something about her he can’t resist—and she’s perfect for his cover. Besides, he’s sure he isn’t endangering her. Unfortunately, they’re both wrong.

      When someone uses their chairlift for target practice, Jillian ends up wounded—and her dream man promptly disappears. Within days, her car explodes. Just when things can’t get any worse, she’s kidnapped at gunpoint. Soon Jillian’s running for her life, and the only man who can save her is the one who deserted her. Or is he just trying to protect her? And can she survive long enough to find out?

      Books by Diana Miller

      Out of Character

      Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

      Out of Character

      Diana Miller

      LYRICAL PRESS

      Kensington Publishing Corp.

      www.kensingtonbooks.com

      Copyright

      Lyrical Press books are published by

      Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018

      Copyright © 2015 by Diana Miller

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

      All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotion, premiums, fund- raising, and educational or institutional use.

      Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Special Sales Manager:

      Kensington Publishing Corp.

      119 West 40th Street

      New York, NY 10018

      Attn. Special Sales Department. Phone: 1-800-221-2647.

      Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

      Lyrical Press and the L logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.

      First Electronic Edition: July 2015

      eISBN-13: 978-1-61650-577-6

      eISBN-10: 1-61650-577-X

      First Print Edition: July 2015

      ISBN-13: 978-1-61650-592-9

      ISBN-10: 1-1-61650-592-3

      Printed in the United States of America

      Prologue

      March 7

      He would enjoy killing that bastard.

      The man raised his trusty Sig Sauer, his gaze fixed on his target. He took aim then made adjustments until he was positive his aim was perfect. In his business, you rarely got a second chance. He’d never needed one.

      He squeezed the trigger, again and again and again. His shots pierced the frosty silence, reverberating in his ears and chest. Every bullet hit precisely at the heart.

      He moved the gun a few inches and shot again. A clump of snow exploded, showered the ground, and left a bare branch in its wake. A second shot cleared another branch. An immediate third was back at the heart.

      “I think that’s enough practice for today.” He lowered the gun. “Thanks for watching my back.”

      The man got up from the tree trunk and brushed a few flecks of snow from his camouflage parka. “Do you want me to take down the target?”

      The shooter nodded as he retrieved his M-40 from the ice-hard snow. “This one’s pretty much shot.”

      The man chuckled. “That it is. I’ve never seen anyone shoot like you do. Course I’ve never seen anyone practice like you do, either.”

      “Revenge is a hell of a motivator.”

      The shooter tromped through the snow and trees to the house, a single-story place with weathered wood siding and dark green shingles that blended into the surrounding forest. Its primary attribute was its isolation, thanks to the virtually impenetrable miles of pines, oaks, and birches surrounding it.

      Gun drawn, he unlocked the front door and stepped inside. He surveyed the living room and adjacent kitchen, straining to hear a quiet breath or muffled movement, his sixth sense attuned to anything out of place. He’d kept his whereabouts secret and neither of his guards had raised an alarm, but guards could be bought and locations leaked. Only a fool assumed he was safe, and if he’d been a fool, he’d have cashed it in long ago.

      Satisfied he was alone, he crossed the stained tan carpet as his nose acclimated to the mustiness and stale cigarette smoke that bombarded him every time he came inside. The place definitely lacked ambiance. But at least it was comfortable. Sometimes he wasn’t even that lucky.

      After stashing his rifle in the utility closet, he grabbed a beer from the ancient Frigidaire and strode into the living room. The brown vinyl recliner in the corner was out of view of the windows, making it his favorite chair despite the duct tape patches on both arms. He sank into it, set his handgun within easy reach on the scarred table beside him, and sipped his beer. It was nearly payback time. They’d had their chance to stop him and blown it. Now it was his turn.

      Of course, his friend might not come to Keystone, and he’d have to go with the original plan. His gut said he’d show, though, and if he did…

      He rubbed the beard he’d been cultivating for the past few weeks as a disguise, not that he usually needed one. Very few people knew his face or real name, only his reputation. This bastard did, though, so a disguise was a necessity, along with a cover that would let him blend in with the families, college kids on spring break, and singles on the make overrunning the area this time of year.

      He took a long drink then set the green bottle on the table. The set-up was perfect. If he were lucky, he’d finish the job and get in a couple days of spring skiing.

      And if anything went wrong, there were miles of uncharted СКАЧАТЬ