Stranded With The Detective. Lena Diaz

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СКАЧАТЬ in pain and cupping his hands between his legs. The smaller man, the one wearing the hood, had just slammed his shoe into the other man’s groin.

      Colby winced in sympathy and holstered his gun. He stepped into the stall and the smaller man kneeled over the one on the ground and drew his fist back.

      Colby yanked him to his feet before he could take the swing.

      “What part of freeze and police did you not understand?” He shook the man.

      His hood fell back and a mass of glossy brown hair fell out, tumbling down his back. Correction. Her back. Dark green eyes glittered up at him under perfectly shaped brows that formed an angry slash.

      Colby hesitated, his hands on her shoulders. Even with her face scrunched in fury, she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. Her long lashes framed catlike eyes and cheekbones a model would have killed for. An adorable smattering of freckles danced across her sun-bronzed cheeks. Pink, plump lips gave her a sexy, sultry appearance that had his mouth going dry.

      “Let me go,” she demanded, trying to wriggle free.

      “Don’t let her hurt me,” the man on the floor gasped, still clutching himself.

      Colby cleared his throat and let the woman go, taking a much-needed step away from her to look down at the man lying in a pile of hay. The knife lay beside him. Colby swiped it with his boot, sending it skittering out into the aisle.

      “I’m Officer Colby Vale,” he said. “I heard someone scream.” He glanced from the large man to the petite woman.

      “Well, it sure wasn’t me,” she snapped.

      It took every ounce of control that Colby possessed not to smile at the gorgeous, infuriated hellcat. She looked incredibly insulted at the idea that she might have screamed.

      The man in the hay coughed, his face turning bright red. “She had a knife,” he said, as if to explain, his voice coming out in a plaintive whine.

      “You were the one with a knife when I got here,” Colby said.

      “I’d just taken it away from her!” He pointed at the woman.

      She rolled her eyes. “You got lucky. And it’s not like I came at you with the knife or anything. I was using it to cut the cruel bindings you’d put on Gladiator. He could barely breathe.”

      “It was for his own safety,” the man argued. “He kept slamming himself against the sides of the stall. I had to tie him to keep him from getting hurt.”

      “Wait, Gladiator?” Colby asked. “We’re talking about a horse? Which one?”

      Both of them pointed to the next stall, the last one in the aisle.

      Colby turned and his mouth literally dropped open when he saw the stallion. Jet-black, it had a thick, glossy mane that rippled over its withers. Its proud, high tail was just as glossy and thick and probably swept the floor. The animal appeared to be a cross between some kind of draft horse and a Thoroughbred.

      “What’s the breed?” he asked.

      “Friesian.” The woman’s voice was full of pride. “Gorgeous, isn’t he?”

      “Incredible.” Colby looked at the man on the ground. “Can you stand?”

      He pushed himself to his feet, swaying. Colby thought he might have to catch him. But then the man grabbed the top rail and steadied himself.

      “What’s your name?” Colby asked.

      “Todd Palmer.” He pointed at the woman. “I want you to arrest her.”

      “You were the one with the knife,” Colby reminded him.

      Palmer started to say something, but Colby held his hand up to stop him. “Hold it.” He looked at the woman. “What’s your name?”

      Her mouth tightened, as if she was considering not answering. But then she grudgingly said, “Piper.”

      A flash of sunlight stabbed down the aisle as the tent’s front flap lifted. Blake and Dillon both rushed inside. Colby waved them over.

      “It’s all right,” he told them. “Everything’s under control.” He eyed Piper, who reminded him of a rabid badger ready to attack. This time he didn’t even try to hold back his smile. “More or less.”

      Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

      God help him, Colby stirred the hornet’s nest. He winked.

      Her eyes widened, then narrowed again and she crossed her arms over her generous chest.

      Dillon cleared his throat, giving Colby a curious look before picking up the knife from the ground. “Anybody hurt? We heard a scream. Several, actually.” He looked at Piper. “You okay, ma’am?”

      She snorted.

      Dillon arched his brows. “What am I missing?”

      “She’s not the one who screamed.” He gestured toward Palmer. “He is.”

      As one, Dillon and Blake turned toward Palmer. At least six feet two inches tall, he had the build of a lumberjack. His adversary was five feet, at the most. And she looked like a hard wind could blow her down. And yet, she’d been the one who was winning their little fight when Colby had confronted them.

      “O...kay.” Dillon glanced back and forth as if trying to figure out how in the world a tiny woman could terrorize the giant of a man.

      Colby wanted to know the same thing.

      Blake coughed behind his hand, obviously trying not to laugh.

      “Let’s start over.” Colby took a step back while Dillon pocketed the knife. “We’re detectives and SWAT officers for the Destiny Police Department.”

      “I hate always being right,” the woman grumbled beneath her breath.

      Colby didn’t have a clue what she meant. Pointing to his right, he said, “This is my boss, SWAT team leader and Lead Detective Dillon Gray.” He gestured to his other side. “This is Detective Blake Sullivan. I’m Detective Colby Vale. Dillon, Blake, the gentleman there says he’s Todd Palmer. I haven’t checked his ID yet.”

      “I’ll take care of that.” Blake held out his hand. “Sir, if you’ll give me your driver’s license, I’ll run a few quick checks, make sure we’re all friends here.”

      His smile was friendly, his words disarming, but there was a thread of steel beneath them that brooked no argument. Palmer handed over his license with obvious reluctance. Blake held it so that Dillon and Colby could read it before he pocketed it.

      “I’m not some criminal with an outstanding warrant or something,” Palmer complained.

      “Excellent. That’ll make my job much easier.” Blake held his hand out toward Piper. “Ma’am? ID?”

      She СКАЧАТЬ