And her mom loved Hunt.
Savannah scanned the room and spotted Camden, lurking in the shadows on the edge of the room. As she watched, a pretty blonde approached him. The woman said something, smiled hopefully, and waved at the dance floor.
Cam shook his head.
The blonde wrinkled her nose, then slipped away. Hmm. Savannah would have to work on the man she considered an honorary brother. Cam deserved someone special. Someone who made him happy.
Then she saw Cam straighten, staring intently.
Who was he staring at? Savannah craned her neck, trying to get a better look. He pushed off the wall and stalked across the room. That’s when Savannah saw that he was following Saskia into the next room.
Savannah’s mouth dropped open. She might be reading too much into it… But the more she thought about it, the more she decided her confident, beautiful friend would be perfect for Cam.
If she didn’t live on the other side of the country.
Hmm, well, any obstacle could be surmounted.
“Can I dance with the wildly successful artist?”
Hunt’s deep voice pulled her away from her musings, and she spun. “Yes, you can.”
Her man led her to the dance floor and twirled her into his arms. She breathed in his scent—Hunt’s sandalwood cologne permeated with his own scent.
“I’m so proud of you,” he murmured.
She flushed. “Thank you. I wouldn’t be here without you.”
“We make an excellent team.”
Gia and Saxon danced passed them. The pair moved well together.
“And I love your brothers and your friends,” Savannah added.
“They love you back.”
“You’re a cocky, arrogant ass,” a sharp female voice snapped.
They swiveled and saw Ryder on the dance floor, facing off with a stunning woman in a metallic, red dress.
“Uh-oh,” Hunt muttered.
The woman wasn’t pretty, exactly, but she was striking. Her brown hair was shot through with streaks of gold, and her face was all slim, sharp features. Her arms were very toned and she looked fit.
“Babe, I’m just confident,” Ryder said
The woman rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Wow, a woman who’s not impressed with Ryder’s charm,” Savannah murmured.
Hunt grunted.
Ryder smiled and said something else to the woman, too low for Savannah to hear.
Then she didn’t see exactly what the woman did, but her leg moved and hooked Ryder’s ankle. He went down hard, flat on his back, in the middle of the dance floor.
The woman smiled, then turned, and stalked off, her red dress swishing behind her.
“Wow, she’s awesome,” Savannah breathed.
Ryder sat up, staring hungrily after the woman.
Hunt shook his head. “It’s lucky my brother has a hard head.” Hunt pulled Savannah closer. “Enough of my brother. I want to know when we can sneak out of here and go home?” He nipped her jaw. “I really, really want to peel you out of this dress.”
Desire flickered in her belly. “Why, Detective Morgan…”
His gaze traced over her face. “Every smile, every laugh, every time you look at me with love in your eyes, I feel like the luckiest man in the world.”
She melted. “Oh, Hunter.” They kissed, right there in the middle of the dance floor. “Let’s go now.”
“You sure?”
She nodded, hungry for him. “If I get into trouble with Haven, I’ll tell her it was your fault.”
Hunt laughed. “I don’t know, Haven’s meaner than she looks.”
“I’ll have to give you some incentive.” Savannah went on her toes and whispered exactly what she planned to do to him once they got home.
“Fuck.” He squeezed her hand and dragged her off the dance floor.
Savannah laughed. “I have to say goodbye—”
“You’ll see everyone tomorrow.” He pulled her close. “You’re mine now, Savannah Cole.”
Her chest filled with warmth. She felt so light, happy, free.
“I sure am. Now take me home, Detective.”
I hope you enjoyed Hunt and Savannah’s story!
Norcross Security continues with The Medic, starring the next Morgan brother, Ryder, and the tough, new female recruit at Norcross Security. The Medic releases on the 5th of April.
Want to see a little more of Hunt and Savannah? Read the bonus epilogue.
The Detective Epilogue: GET MY BONUS EPILOGUE
For more action romance (and some more cameos by Killian Hawke and Vander Norcross), check out the first book in the Billionaire Heists trilogy, Stealing from Mr. Rich (Zane Roth’s story). Read on for a preview of the first chapter.
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Preview: Stealing from Mr. Rich
Monroe
The old-fashioned Rosengrens safe was a beauty.
I carefully turned the combination dial, then pressed closer to the safe. The metal was cool under my fingertips. The safe wasn’t pretty, but stout and secure. There was something to be said for solid security.
Rosengrens had started making safes in Sweden over a hundred years ago. They were good at it. I listened to the pins, waiting for contact. Newer safes had internals made from lightweight materials to reduce sensory feedback, so I didn’t get to use these skills very often.
Some people could play the piano, I could play a safe. The tiny vibration I was waiting for reached my fingertips, followed by the faintest click.
“I’ve gotcha, old girl.” The Rosengrens had quite a few quirks, but my blood sang as I moved the dial again.
I heard a louder click and spun the handle.
The safe door swung open. Inside, I saw stacks of jewelry cases and wads of hundred-dollar bills. Nice.
Standing, I dusted my hands off on my jeans. “There you go, Mr. Goldstein.”
“You are a doll, Monroe O’Connor. Thank you.”
The older man, dressed neatly in pressed chinos and a blue shirt, grinned at me. He had coke-bottle glasses, wispy, white hair, and a wrinkled face.
I smiled at him. Mr. Goldstein was one of my favorite people. “I’ll send you my bill.”
His grin widened. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
I raised a brow. “You could stop forgetting your safe combination.”
The wealthy old man called me every month or so to open his safe. Right now, we were standing in the home office of his expensive Park Avenue penthouse.
It was decorated in what I thought of as “rich, old man.” There were heavy drapes, gold-framed artwork, lots of dark wood—including the built-in shelves around the safe—and a huge desk.
“Then I wouldn’t get to see your pretty face,” he said.
I smiled and patted his shoulder. “I’ll see you next month, Mr. Goldstein.” The poor man was lonely. His wife had died the year before, and his only son lived in Europe.