Harlequin Romantic Suspense April 2021 Karen Whiddon (best fiction books to read TXT) 📖

have to back off trying to keep me away from doing my job. Otherwise I’m going to tell you and my father to shove your intentions—”

“Whoa, no need for cussing, ba—uh, Dominique.” Double dog doo. He’d almost called her “babe.” Letting out a long, extended breath, he flexed and fisted his hands. Wiggled his toes in his shoes. Cleared his mind of the emotions being with Dominique elicited. “Let me rephrase. Your sense of duty to get the story, to clear Charlie Hamm’s name, moved you to post your concerns on social media.”

“Yes. But lest you think I did that without any forethought, think again.” She grinned and his lips twitched in response. “I put my intentions out there on my public profile in hopes of stirring up more witnesses and more sources about what’s going on in the police department.”

“You had to realize it’d catch the attention of the cartel, Dominique.”

“I did. And how do you know it won’t inspire a drug ring member to cash it in, give me the story and accept a plea deal, witness protection from law enforcement? I know GGPD’s budget has to be stretched to the max right now but I’ve seen other reporters in similar circumstances get witness security. Melissa strikes me as someone who’s all about keeping people safe, even if she won’t let me in on the internal investigation.” She shook her head. “I’d be further along, frankly, if it wasn’t for GGPD. They have messed this case up but good, right from the start, with the either misidentified or clandestinely placed fingerprint.”

“Now, wait a minute there. I’ve read the reports. The police on duty when Charlie’s crime, okay, purported crime, went down all did their jobs well.” His protection service worked in unison with Grave Gulch Police Department. It wasn’t just about Melissa being chief, but about the GGPD’s professional standing in the community. He kept GGPD informed, and they let him know salient points about cases and persons of interest. The two-way flow of information had allowed him to provide exceptional protection to several high-level political and local celebrity figures who’d found themselves stalked by criminals. Colton Protection had helped GGPD out by taking some of the load around personal security away and keeping intended victims safe while the police did their job to apprehend suspects.

“Maybe they did. But what about Randall Bowe?” She threw the forensic scientist’s name out like a tie-breaking card in a poker came. “He’s been under scrutiny for messing up evidence on several drug-related crimes. GGPD’s apprehension rate was excellent, and they appeared to be making headway against the drug cartel. Until a number of the charges had to be dropped due to lack of evidence or witnesses. Tell me what’s going on there, Stanton?”

“I can’t tell you anything, Dominique, except that the police are on your, our, side. You know this better than I do, since you regularly report on them.” He sighed. “I’ll concede that there could be one bad cop, maybe two, including Bowe. That doesn’t incriminate the entire department, though.”

“It most certainly does if no one’s trying to find the leaks and get rid of them. I know you’re invested in GGPD more than most because of your family ties there.”

“It’s never as easy as it appears, Dominique.”

“Kind of like us, right? We were matched perfectly on most issues, except one.” She didn’t say it and didn’t have to; they both knew she referred to a permanent commitment. “It looked good on paper, made sense that we’d make a good pair, but then when it came down to it we had incompatible goals in life.” Her dark eyes blazed with conviction, and color had returned to her cheeks under the bruises. He heard her, saw that she was trying to make a point about why they’d gone their own ways. Mostly agreed. But his mind kept seeing her in his apartment, before the breakup. When she was still his.

What on earth had he been thinking, agreeing to this gig for Rigo?

You still care. Too much.

“Stanton? Are you listening to me?”

* * *

Stanton blinked once, twice, and she saw his focus come back on her. He’d drifted, and a pang of regret hit her sideways. It was one of his mannerisms that she’d found both annoying and endearing. A brilliant man, Stanton let his mind run miles ahead of everyone else’s, putting together seemingly disparate pieces of information to form a full picture. It made him an excellent personal protection and intelligence professional. And it had made him second to none in bed. She didn’t get the impression he was thinking of either, though. More likely he’d been recalling their disagreements, maybe even those last awful few minutes together. Shame hit her as hard as regret had. She’d been so immature, so overwhelmed at the weight of their connection.

“I’m fine, trust me. I heard you. You’re juggling a lot of bowling pins, Dominique, that could end up hurting you, be it the cartel or your alleged bad player at GGPD. It’s possible that more than one person would want you silenced.”

Ouch. He hadn’t said anything she didn’t already suspect, but the bluntness of his conclusion stung.

“I know.” She gave him his point. He was correct. The harsh set of his jaw, covered by its usual shadow of beard growth, was a perfect foil to the light in his eyes and conveyed his confidence. At least he couldn’t read her mind as hers drifted. Back to their long hours in bed, how his skin felt against hers. How that light beard had scratched her inner thighs...

Refocus.

She tore her gaze away as a matter of survival. Her eyes scanned over the familiar surroundings of the café and she tried to allow herself to relax, to forget that she was sitting across from the only man she’d ever given her entire heart to. Well, almost. When her gaze passed over the barista station a second time, she saw that the same man she’d