One Tough Texan. Barb Han

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      Shock registered in the cowboy’s eyes. He had a rare combination of green eyes and black hair—no, black wasn’t a good enough word—it was more like onyx.

      Water dripped from his thick black eyelashes and his tight curls. She could tell that he’d been wearing a hat, and in this part of the country that meant a Stetson. He was tall, six feet four inches would be her best guess. Based on the ripples running down his chest, she’d say the guy spent serious time at the gym. His hands were rough, which meant he worked outside. But not too rough, telling her that he hadn’t been doing it for long.

      “Are you telling me you know that guy?” he asked and she could tell he wasn’t buying her story.

      “Intimately.” It was easy to sell that last part because it was the truth. Alice did know more details about Marco Perez’s life than she ever wanted to about any criminal on the loose. He was the head of a large-scale kidnapping ring known for selling teenage girls or using them for baby farms. He was also most likely long gone by now. His ability to disappear and make every witness around him do the same had earned him The Ghost moniker.

      Alice couldn’t afford to explain herself to law enforcement. They’d run her name and she’d be discovered. She had to protect her identity.

      “What’s your name?” she asked. If she could bait this guy into casual conversation she had a chance at making it out of there before the cops arrived. With her arms hauled over her head the cowboy was in the power position.

      “Joshua O’Brien,” he said. “Now it’s your turn.”

      It was a statement, not a question and she figured that she was grossly underestimating this guy.

      “Will you let me go if I tell you, Joshua?” She’d used his name on purpose. Get him talking, get him comfortable and she could break out of his grasp.

      “Maybe,” he said.

      “I’m Alice,” she responded. The cops would be banging on that door in a matter of minutes in a best-case scenario...a matter of seconds in her worst nightmare. In no way could Alice allow that to happen. She’d be taken to jail and her reputation, as well as her career, would be over. As it was she could still return to the force after she located Isabel and brought her home safely.

      Sirens wailed in the distance, which meant cops were getting closer. She needed to move faster with the cowboy in order to get away. Or distract him long enough to...

      The chance presented itself, so she took it.

      The cowboy had loosened his grip. Alice drew her knee up and tagged him as hard as she could in the groin.

      She dropped and spun, breaking free from his grasp. A sweep of her right leg and he stumbled to catch himself.

      He recovered quickly using the wall to redirect his weight, but he wasn’t fast enough.

      Alice pulled her backup weapon, a Glock G42 .380 pocket pistol, from her ankle holster. “Hands where I can see ’em, cowboy.”

      He righted himself and complied.

      Now all she had to do was walk out that door and never look back. She made a move toward it and then stopped, a bout of conscience eating at her. It was her fault that the cowboy was in this mess. He’d seen Perez. Worse yet, The Ghost had seen the cowboy.

      No one lived who could describe Perez. He was one of the most ruthless criminals in the country and he protected his identity with the ferocity of a starved lion.

      But how could Alice protect her own identity and spare the cowboy’s life?

       Chapter Two

      Alice’s voice was high-pitched and had that listen-up-or-I’ll-shoot quality. The attitude registered with Joshua as law enforcement. Was she on the job? Alice had that same swagger he’d seen in the officers he knew; granted hers was a heck of a lot sexier than theirs. Based on her reactions so far she was covering something—something big. She wasn’t breaking the law, or at least not currently, so he was even more confused by the fact that she was adamant about not bringing in the police. He figured this wasn’t the time to tell her about his law enforcement background or the fact that he had an application in at the FBI—a fact he hadn’t shared with his brothers yet. He shoved the guilty feeling aside. He’d deal with that later.

      “I’m running out of time. Word of advice. Forget what I look like,” she barked. “And forget all the details about tonight.”

      Joshua put his hands up, palms flat, in surrender mode. “Sorry. Too late for that. But it’s not for you. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

      She shot him another look that told him he didn’t have a clue.

      “I’m serious about this next part so listen up. When the law arrives, tell them that you’re being hunted by Marco Perez. Do you hear me?” she asked with seriousness in her voice that left no room for question.

      He nodded, keeping watch on her and the door while tamping down his reaction to the name she’d just thrown out. The name Marco Perez was on every watch list and that’s why his face had looked familiar.

      “Also, and I can’t stress this next part enough, you need to surrender to protective custody. Tell the sheriff what I said about seeing Perez and he’ll arrange everything.”

      “We can talk this through and get help for you.” Joshua wasn’t ready to tip his hand about his own background, especially since she hadn’t figured him out.

      She shook her head.

      “This whole situation can be sorted out. You don’t have to keep running. Nothing is as bad as it seems,” he added, trying to stall. She was the one who needed protection and most likely a skilled attorney.

      “I know he saw you,” she said, backing toward the door, keeping her intense gaze on him. “And he’ll come back for you. Mark my words. No one who has ever seen Perez in action has lived to tell about it.”

      “Whatever it is you think you need to do...don’t,” Joshua said. He didn’t need to be reminded of that rumor about Perez. His gaze bounced from the gun that had been tossed onto the floor to her again. He’d protect himself from Perez. Who did she have?

      She made a move to open the door, keeping a close eye on him.

      Joshua had no plans to be shot in the men’s room of a gas station. That wasn’t even a good cliché.

      “Hold on,” he said, trying out that same authoritative voice she’d used on him a few minutes ago. It was his cop voice.

      Her gaze kept bouncing from him to the door, and instincts honed from years of police work told him she was about to flee. Given that she was obviously in some kind of trouble, even though she seemed more concerned about him at the moment, he needed to act fast or she’d disappear and he couldn’t help her. Joshua held out his wrists. “Fine. You win. Take me into protective custody.”

      She balked.

      “You need someone in law enforcement to do that,” she СКАЧАТЬ