He kissed her. “You know, I recently met a psychic. She says it’s important to have all your energy centered, not spread too thin.”
She moved his hand to a spot where he liked to put his hand. She was warm and wet. “Feel my energy?” she whispered.
It was going straight to his head. Making him want to say things and make big promises. “Tess,” he said. “I—”
She kissed him. Drew him in. “Focus, A.L. What was that you said about spread?”
He moved between her legs. Slipped inside. “I’m doing my best work here,” he said, his lips hovering at her collarbone.
“Plenty good,” she murmured, moving against him. “Plenty good for right now.”
* * *
Don’t miss Beverly Long’s previous book featuring A.L. McKittridge, Ten Days Gone, available now from MIRA Books!
Keep reading for an excerpt from In the Rancher’s Protection by Beth Cornelison.
In the Rancher's Protection
by Beth Cornelison
Chapter 1
He’d found her. Again.
Carrie French stared out the dirty window of the hole-in-the-wall motel where she’d been hiding for the past week. Frustration and fear bit her stomach. Acid climbed her throat until she thought she might vomit.
Instead, she pulled a deep breath in through her nose and blew it out slowly through pursed lips, seizing her composure with both hands. If she panicked, she’d hurt her ability to think clearly. She had a few precious moments before Joseph would discover her here in room four. She could picture him flashing a wad of hundred-dollar bills to the front-desk clerk as he presented her picture and demanded to know where Carrie was.
Because she was used to having to run on a moment’s notice, Carrie had kept her bag packed, her shoes lined up and ready to stuff on her feet, her burner phone fully charged. With a few quick motions, her cell was unplugged, her feet covered, her bag in hand and she was scrambling to the door. She cracked it open, peeked out.
Joseph was still in the small office, his back to the window. She had no time to waste.
Covering her head with the hood of her jacket, she jammed her sunglasses in place, shouldered the strap of her canvas bag and fled the room. She didn’t bother closing the door, didn’t look back. She ran for the car she’d parked around the corner, out of view of the office, and whispered a prayer for divine intervention. Help me get out of here. Don’t let him see me. Please!
“Hey! Carrie? Stop!”
Her heart sank as she pushed her legs to go faster, fumbled the ignition key one-handed while she tossed her bag on the back seat. So much for not being seen.
She locked the doors, and tears blurred her vision as she cranked the engine. He was at her window in seconds, pounding his fist on the glass. “Damn it, Carrie! Get out of the car!”
She tried to ignore his presence, his feral growl as he shouted at her. With trembling hands, she shifted the transmission to Reverse. Twisted to look behind her as she backed out of the lot.
A loud thump and sound of glass cracking drew a startled gasp from her. She spun to see what he’d done. Her windshield had a spiderweb break and a long fissure snaking across the driver’s side. He held a rock, his arm raised, ready to smash it against her window again.
Carrie stomped the gas pedal. The car rocketed backward. The rock he held slammed down on her hood, leaving a dent, then tumbled to the ground. Joseph made a grab for the door handle as she wheeled a hasty Y-turn and raced out of the side parking lot.
A car horn blasted as she cut into traffic and sped away, and from the motel parking lot, she could hear him scream, “Give up, Carrie! I will always find you!”
Carrie shuddered. Five years ago, that promise might have sounded like a romantic movie line. Now, after sixty months of watching everything she’d believed about the man she’d married melt away, she knew the shouted vow for what it was. A threat.
And all the reason she needed to keep running. Keep hiding. Because if Joseph ever caught her, she knew he would kill her.
* * *
Hours later, when she felt certain she’d escaped Joseph, Carrie stopped at a fast food restaurant in a tiny Oklahoma town and released a shuddering breath. Once she’d thought she could flee her abusive and manipulative husband simply by leaving him, filing for divorce and getting on with her life. Now she knew Joseph was a bad dream that would keep returning, no matter the lengths she went to. Desolation sat on her chest, suffocating her. What hope she’d had for a fresh start had eroded, little by little, each time he’d caught up with her.
She smacked her hand on the steering wheel, bitter tears stinging her eyes. How in the hell did he keep finding her? She didn’t use credit cards. She changed burner phones every time he found her. She didn’t use her real name when she paid cash and checked into motels at night. She’d driven hundreds of miles, randomly picking small towns or thriving cities to stop. She’d dyed her hair so many times, all the conditioner in the world would never rescue it from the brittleness and split ends. She glanced in the rearview mirror, reminding herself what color she’d last used. That’s right...a boring shade of light brown.
But no matter how smart she thought she was being, no matter how far she drove or how random her path, Joseph always showed up within days. Then he’d gloat. And he’d try to drag her back to Aurora, Colorado, with him. Often, he’d smack her around, taking out his frustrations over her determination to be free of him. One time, he forced her back to their sprawling estate outside Aurora, and she’d had to devise a new plan to slip away undetected.
The process was physically exhausting, emotionally draining and increasingly challenging. She had to find new ways to dodge him. New places to hide. And she felt herself becoming more and more isolated as she cut off contact with more and more of her friends.
The few friends that had a hint of her predicament had offered to take her in, but she refused to put them in danger, drawing them or their families into the line of fire. Joseph was too well connected, too cold and calculating.
Earlier in their marriage, when Carrie had confided in her best friend, Hanna, and taken refuge at Hanna’s house after an argument with Joseph turned violent, Joseph had taken his revenge by getting Hanna fired from her management job and kidnapping Hanna’s Yorkie from the doggie day care. Peanut had never been found.
Besides, Joseph knew most of the same people she did, so she didn’t see those friends and business associates as safe places. She was one of the few who knew Joseph’s dark side. He was good at presenting a charming, confident and gracious facade. After all, he’d fooled her before they were married, hadn’t he?
Now, she sat at the edge of the gas station/minute market parking lot and stared through her cracked windshield at the rural Oklahoma terrain. She felt conspicuous in her black BMW M4 coupe with the broken windshield, as if she had a neon arrow pointing to her. Flash. Out of place. Flash. On the run. Flash. Sore thumbsville. She shrank down in the driver’s seat, wishing she could simply disappear.