Welcome to the
Dangerous Protector Cover Reveal!
Dangerous Protector is Book 2 in the Federal Paranormal
Unit. (Pssst! You should begin this awesome series with Wolf Protector. Meet
Trent, Erica and the gang and enjoy a #1 bestselling paranormal erotic suspense!)
So without further ado…*drum rolls please*
Dangerous Protector
Federal Paranormal Unit 2
If you run from love, you're asking for a chase...
James Brock lived the past ten years without the woman he loves. Using his job as head of the Federal Paranormal Unit to help others, he's done a good job of ignoring his lack of a personal life until she returns. His salvation. His first love.
Cynthia Vega had a very good reason to leave the only man she loved after she'd accepted his marriage proposal. Now she's back as his boss. And he's not willing to ignore their chemistry or the past.
Brock is determined to claim his mate and prove that their passion is even hotter than before. He wants her and her explanation behind their separation. Except, some secrets won't stay buried in the past. Brock will fight his demons to follow her lead, but Cynthia's reluctance to explain their lost love may be the one key to their destruction...
Federal Paranormal Unit 2
If you run from love, you're asking for a chase...
James Brock lived the past ten years without the woman he loves. Using his job as head of the Federal Paranormal Unit to help others, he's done a good job of ignoring his lack of a personal life until she returns. His salvation. His first love.
Cynthia Vega had a very good reason to leave the only man she loved after she'd accepted his marriage proposal. Now she's back as his boss. And he's not willing to ignore their chemistry or the past.
Brock is determined to claim his mate and prove that their passion is even hotter than before. He wants her and her explanation behind their separation. Except, some secrets won't stay buried in the past. Brock will fight his demons to follow her lead, but Cynthia's reluctance to explain their lost love may be the one key to their destruction...
Add Dangerous
Protector to your GR TBR Pile!
Book Trailer – Check
out this sexiness!
Excerpt
Dangerous
Protector
© Milly
Taiden, Latin Goddess Press 2014
Chapter
One
Sirens blared. One after another
the police cruisers and fire department vehicles sped by in a rush. A honk
sounded from behind James Brock’s SUV. He glanced over his shoulder.
“This moron is trying to cause an
accident,” Tony Ramirez, one of the Federal Paranormal Unit team members,
yelled at the rearview mirror.
Brock glanced over his shoulder.
A black Sedan tailed close behind them. Too close.
Ramirez gripped the wheel so hard
his tanned knuckles turned white. “I’m already doing eighty.”
“Tony, let them by.”
There was something big going on.
He curled his hands into fists in his lap. He knew what it was. They all knew.
“Where do you think they’re all
going, Brock?” The concern in Jane Donovan’s voice momentarily choked him. Her
soft lilt reminded him of his mother’s voice. At first appearance, you’d think Donovan
was a weak woman, but make her angry, and you’d have hell to pay.
Tension turned palpable with its
own heartbeat in the fast-moving SUV.
“I can take a wild guess.”
They made a sharp corner on a
bend into a dirt road. The SUV skidded on its wheels for a second. Everyone
held on while they bounced in their seats.
“Jesus H. Christ, Ramirez! Can
you not to get us killed before we get there,” Donovan growled.
“Sorry, cariƱo, but there is no
time to be worried about your delightful ass bouncing on the seat when we have
to find a missing kid.”
“I told you to stop calling me
darling!”
“Ramirez…” Brock sighed.
Their constant bickering wasn’t
unusual, so he ignored it and focused on the scene ahead. Multiple police cars
parked outside the house he’d called the local PD on. The house he knew had the
latest missing person they had been searching for.
“Oh, God!” Fear laced Donovan’s
whisper.
They were thinking the same
thing. That whoever kidnapped little Kyler Jones had killed her. That his
request for the county to get to the house in question had been too late. His
gaze roamed the area through the darkness of the early evening. Multitudes of
tall willows surrounded the large house set in the middle of nowhere. Perfect.
If he’d been looking for a place to do some of the things the person in that
house was known for, this was the right spot. There wasn’t a body around for
miles. Nobody to get help. Nobody to hear the screams.
Ramirez hadn’t fully stopped when
Brock jumped out of the SUV, his feet hitting the ground with a thump.
Immediate perspiration gathered on his upper lip. The humidity from August had
brought intense heat. Though it was closing in on nighttime, the air sizzled
with the high temperature from earlier.
He ran for the SWAT van. Instinct
told him they’d know more than the local sheriff’s department. Radios beeped.
Concern expanded in his chest. Everyone seemed to want an update on the
situation. He recognized one of the FBI department heads—Martin Galvez—standing
off to the side of the SWAT van.
The older man stopped
mid-sentence to give him one of his degrading piercing glares. “Brock. What are
you doing here?” Command oozed from his Latin accent.
Brock glanced from Galvez to the
other two lower ranked agents. Took both men all of a second to move away. That
allowed him and Galvez to talk.
“This is our case. We found Kyler
Jones through intense searching of phone records and—”
“Save it,” Galvez cut him off. He
turned away from Brock to study the area.
“How are you going to retrieve
the child? Do we know if she’s alive?” Brock tried to tamp down the surge of
power dancing through his veins. It wasn’t usually difficult to do. He’d
mastered his darkness. But Galvez had a tendency of pushing his anger. The
older man’s attitude lit a fire in his stomach.
Galvez smirked. “We have a man
who went in through the back.”
Gathered men and women avidly
stared at the house. Watching. Waiting. Brock knew there were no guarantees of
getting the child out alive. They all knew that. It’s what made his job that
much harder.
Power swirled at his fingertips.
He need only know what to do, and he could end the entire thing in a matter of
seconds. “Do you need me to—”
“What I need, is for you to keep
yourselves out of the way,” Galvez ordered.
Anger licked at his skin, growing
at the speed of a derailed train. He shot a glance at Galvez. For a split
second, Galvez paled.
“I’d watch how you talk to
people, Galvez,” Brock said, no longer caring that his voice sounded hard.
Steely. Deadly.
An explosion rocked the ground.
He jerked his gaze to the house. Flames consumed the structure. Screams and
shouts filled the night. Men moved in all directions toward the house, but
gunfire blasted through the shouts. Brock’s muscles tightened.
“Can we do anything?” Donovan
yelled over the sirens and shouts. She ran a hand over her mussed up ponytail.
Her fingers shook. He saw the desperate need to help in her eyes. It went
against her nature not to.
Brock shook his head. “We wait.”
The thought of doing nothing
didn’t appeal to him either. In fact, it was hell to hold back and not run into
the house and get the kid himself. His power shoved outward. Pushing to get
out. To take control.
“Finally!” Galvez sighed.
Brock’s vision followed Galvez’s
line of sight until he saw a woman running out through the flames with a bundle
covered in a dripping blanket.
Breaths thundered in his ears.
Everything narrowed until the only thing he saw was her. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Was his mind playing a trick on
him? After all these years? But no, it wasn’t a trick. She was soaking wet as
she ran from the burning house toward them. Paramedics surrounded her and took
the covered bundle from her arms. She was gasping for air, coughing through the
smoke she’d inhaled before she finally glanced up and met his gaze.
He didn’t know how long he’d been
standing there, watching everything like a spectator versus an active
participant. The beast inside him roared. After all the years they’d been
apart, after she’d left him for no apparent reason, she was back. He watched
her march toward him. Her dark gaze slid from him to Galvez.
In the background, firemen fought
the burning house. Sirens continued to blare. Loud. Driving the point that
chaos had ensued around them. But he couldn’t find it in him to care. His sole
focus was on the woman he’d loved. Hard. The woman who’d left him.
Cynthia
Vega.
“Vega.” Galvez’s tone was
clipped. “What took you so long?”
Her brows dipped low, eyes
flashing. “Get over it. I got the child out alive. That was my main concern. I
did what was needed. If it took all night…” She shrugged. “It would have taken
all night.”
The black T-shirt soaked and
plastered to her brown skin, showing off the curves Brock had always loved.
Curves he’d kissed, licked, and bit in the heat of passion.
Brock’s hands itched to grab her.
Power surged inside him. Dark. Deadly. It swarmed his veins and expanded
through his limbs in a wave of heat. A haze of red clouded his vision.
Cynthia met his gaze. Her
perfectly arched brows rose. “Brock.”
He took a deep breath. Inhaled
the soft scent of Jasmine she loved to wear. Fear seeped from her pores,
mingling with the sweet Jasmine scent. But this wasn’t the time or place to
discuss their past.
“Vega.”
Pain flashed through her eyes for
a millisecond before she went back to the detached professional. But he’d seen
it. Knew that she’d heard the anger in the way he’d softly growled her name.
She folded her arms over her chest. Defensive. He’d gotten to know each of her
quirks. This was her I’m-not-at-fault move.
“We don’t need you here, Brock.”
Galvez’s voice broke through the tension between him and Cynthia.
He eyed the older man. Saw the
curious way he glanced back and forth between them.
“As you can see, we have it under
control. You and your—” Galvez’s gaze slid over Brock’s shoulder to where
Donovan and Ramirez stood behind him. “Team can go. The child’s safe.”
He wanted to argue with Galvez,
but it wasn’t his fault Cynthia had messed with his concentration.
Cynthia swallowed hard.
Indecision skated her features. He gave her a slow once-over before turning on
his heel to face Donovan and Ramirez. “Let’s go.”
“But—”
“The child’s safe, Donovan.
That’s what we came for.”
Confusion sparked in the depths
of her eyes. “Are you sure she’s okay?”
“I wouldn’t leave otherwise.”
That was the absolute truth. All
his team members knew it. He’d never leave a crime scene unless the victim was
safe or— in a worst-case scenario he was much too familiar with—dead. While his
gift was seen as a dark destructive force, he preferred to use it for the safe
return of those victims he could help find.
Donovan gave a quick nod. He
marched past her toward the SUV, leaving her and Ramirez to follow.
“Relax, babe. If he says the
kid’s okay, then the kid’s okay,” Ramirez whispered at Brock’s back.
“Will you please stop calling me
babe?” Donovan hissed.
“Brock!” The sound of Cyn’s yell
reached him just as he was about to hop into the passenger side of his vehicle.
He stopped. The frustration he
was tamping down surged all over again. She reached him a moment later, still
panting from the run out of the burning house.
“I just want to say…thank you.”
Her gaze dropped down to his mouth. Lust bubbled up inside him. At her slow
lick of her lips, he had to grit his teeth to stop himself from hauling her to
him. To taste her. “I know your team found the child.” She met his gaze. Desire
sparkled in the depths of her hazel eyes. “I appreciate it.”
The beast he never allowed
control roared inside, demanding a taste of her lips. Ah, those lips. She had
the full luscious bow shaped lips that he knew were soft, decadent, and fit
perfectly against his. Her lips, along with every abundant curve on her sexy
body, had been his downfall.
“You don’t need to thank me. This
is our job.”
“I know I don’t need to thank
you. But you and your team…” She glanced over his shoulder into the SUV. Ramirez
and Donovan were actively studying them with interest. “You got her and called
for help before anything could happen. You saved this child.”
He gripped the door handle. “No.
We found her. You saved her.”
“James…”
The hairs on his arms rose.
Something unlocked inside him. Her husky voice, pitched with that sexy Latin
accent, was like a punch to the gut. It was low, so low over the still blaring
sirens, over the shouts from the firefighters, if he hadn’t had enhanced
hearing, he’d never have heard it. None of that mattered. To hear her say his
name so softly instantly brought back memories of another time, another place.
A time when they’d done much more than mere talking. She shifted. His attention
was drawn to her chest. The material of her top plastered to her body, showing
off her full breasts.
Ignore
it.
He pushed the unwanted memories
and feelings back. “You got the kid, Vega. That’s what matters.”
Hurt clouded her eyes. Should he
care that she’d been hurt because he called her by her last name? No. He couldn’t care. She’d left him and never returned.
Until now. Those emotions weren’t part of him any longer.
“Brock—”
He turned his back on her. He’d
never done it before, but he did it now. Dammit, he hadn’t expected it to be so
hard. He hopped into the SUV. Shut the door. And shut her out. Fuck. It filled
his chest with a dull pain to leave her there with that gratefulness shining in
her eyes. But he refused to glance out the window once he was in his seat.
Instead, he turned to Ramirez and saw the questions in his team member’s eyes
and ignored them.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Cynthia watched the red tail
lights from the black SUV shrink with the distance. Drops crawled down her
arms. It was soothing to have the coolness from the water beat away the heat from
the summer. Plus, just seeing James again really knocked her axis off center.
“Anything you want to tell me?” The
question came across as a demand for information.
She turned to the sound of
Galvez’s voice. Short cropped, salt-pepper hair, perfectly coiffed showed off
his wrinkled forehead and deep-set dark eyes. A thin mustache covered the
pursed line of his lips. For an older man, he wasn’t hard on the eyes. Well,
not for women who liked the know-it-all types, anyway. Unfortunately, for him,
Cyn wasn’t the least bit impressed by him.
“We’re on a need to know basis
here, Galvez.” She wrung the water out of her ponytail and headed for her car.
“Obviously there’s something I
need to know about the relationship between you and Brock.” He barked the words
over the shouts, following her toward her black, rusty Camry.
She stopped, whirled in place,
and shook her head. Was the man growing delusional with his position? “Hang on
a second here. You recruited me. You
requested my expertise for the team. You wanted me to help lead the FPU. My past with Brock or anyone else has no
bearing on my ability to do the job.”
“You know you’ll be working close
to him.”
“And?” Anger simmered inside her.
Galvez’s nostrils flared. Disgust
lit his eyes. Figures. He had never been the type for warm and cuddly
conversations. And the last thing Cynthia expected was for him to encourage
employee relationships. “He isn’t normal. He’s… He’s—”
“I know exactly what he is. If I
were you, I’d be very careful what you say about him.” She snapped her mouth
shut to keep from adding anything that could, and would get her fired. Dammit,
she’d just started the job.
She yanked on the handle to her
car. The metal creaked as it opened. Galvez placed a hand on the top of the
door, stopping her from moving it further.
“Look, Cici—”
“Don’t!” She hissed. “Only my
family calls me that. You’re my superior. Don’t get it confused. My accepting
your job offer doesn’t make us friends. It doesn’t make us buddies. It just
makes me your employee.”
“I’d like to think of us as more
than just employer-employee. Possibly move things to where they should be
between us.” His facial lines smoothed out. There was concern in his eyes for a
flash of a second. Then an iciness entered his gaze as she shook her head.
“I don’t think so. All we’ll ever
be is co-workers. Don’t confuse yourself.” She met Galvez’s stare with her own
angry glare. He should know by now that intimidation wouldn’t work on her.
Being raised by her grandmother, because her father had been missing in action,
had toughened her up. Especially when her mother was more trouble than she
wanted to think about. When her family’s reality finally hit her, some hard
choices had to be made. And the result had been losing the only man she’d
loved.
Galvez’s brow puckered. “If you
can’t handle working with Brock, for whatever reason, just tell me. I won’t
hold it against you.”
Yeah, she just bet he wouldn’t.
He’d recruited her as a test. To see her fail. She knew what he was after, but
she wouldn’t give it to him. He’d come to her. Right now, she had the upper
hand. An upper hand she wasn’t willing to lose.
Her gaze strayed past Galvez to
the ambulance where the child was taken. A paramedic shut the doors. It took
off, sirens wailing. The thickness she’d felt growing at her throat expanded.
Fuck. She had to hold it together or Galvez would see her as nothing more than
a weakling.
“What happened to the suspect?”
His question brought her
attention to his face.
“When I entered the house from
the back, he was in the kitchen.” She gulped at the memory of the man, of what
he’d been doing.
“And?”
She ground her teeth. “And he was
sharpening some large butcher knives, happily singing a song about making stew.
Kyler stew. There. Are you happy?”
Galvez’s unwavering gaze was stuck
on her face. She tried not to flinch, knowing that any sign of discomfort would
be seen as a weakness. She inhaled slowly, mentally preparing herself for the
torture of reviewing what just happened.
“He’d already started a fire in
the kitchen. Stood there sharpening those knives. All the while, the flames
spread through the place.” Her stomach clenched. Oxygen had frozen in her lungs
when she’d seen the man light himself on fire when he’d seen her. “He walked to
the blaze taking up one side of the kitchen. And just stood there. Burning.”
She still had a hard time
believing what she’d seen. The maniac had continued to sing while he burned.
That song. She’d have a hard time sleeping remembering the stupid song. It had
made cold fingers of dread crawl up her spine.
“And the kid?”
She took a breath. Let it out
slowly. “She was tied up to a tub filled with water. The entire house started
to collapse around me. By the time I reached her most of it was on fire.” She
gripped the door handle. Although it bothered her to have to go through what
just happened, she knew it was procedure. Plus, she’d have to write it out on
her report anyway. “I ran to the other room, grabbed a blanket, cut her binds,
wet myself, shoved the blanket into the tub, wrapped it around her and got her
out.” She swallowed hard against the dryness in her throat. “End of story.”
Thoughts kept whirling around her
mind of all the possible things she could have found in that house. None of
them good. She needed to go home. Right now. She was too raw. The throbbing in
her chest, since she’d first laid eyes on the child, hadn’t dissipated yet. Too
many emotions were clogging up her throat. Seeing that little girl tied up was
like getting stabbed in the gut. Absolute hell. Kyler’s pale green eyes had been
filled with fear. Watching the drenched six-year-old shaking, her lips turning
purple from the icy water almost broke her. Jesus. But this was her job. She
was damn good at it and no amount of stress on a case—or her pathetic excuse of
a personal life—was going to make her give it up.
“Are you sure you’ll be fine
working with Brock and his team?” Galvez asked. There was annoyance in the way
he asked the question. Not concern. Never concern. That simply added to her
rising temper.
She was tired. Tired of having to
be the responsible one in her family. Of giving up everything she’d ever
wanted. And she was especially tired of Galvez and his condescension. “Did you
want me to promise that in blood or something?” His dark skin turned mottled
with anger. Too bad. “I already said I’m fine. Now let me go home and let me do
my job. I can handle Brock. And his team.”
Galvez stepped away, giving her
space to slide into the car. He continued to watch her. Her muscles felt tight
from the tension of the past hour. The engine’s roar was music to her ears.
Galvez dropped down to eye level. Fuck. She thought he was done.
“I won’t have you or him messing
with the plans I have in the Bureau.”
She bit the inside of her cheek
hard, until she swore she tasted blood. Then she counted to ten before finally
answering him.
“I know what it is you want.”
She’d been informed he was gunning for a high-ranking position. “I don’t really
care about it. That’s your problem.” She gripped the wheel, staring into his
angry dark gaze. “But I think you should know, that you won’t ever be allowed
to lead the FPU. It’s why they made you hire me.” She smiled coldly. “You see,
you need to be paranormal to lead that team. It’s why I’m reporting to the head
of the Bureau directly.”
“I don’t care what you think you know. I want to make sure that
you are able to handle this. I’ll have the group reporting to me at some point,”
he growled.
She shook her head. “No. You
won’t. I know you’ve tried. You can’t lead a special team.” She shifted gears, put
the car in reverse, and hit the accelerator. Tires squealed. Galvez rushed off
in order to not be run over. She stopped, turned the wheel and put it in drive.
“You know why you can’t lead a special team, Galvez?”
He stood there motionless.
Watching her. His face clear of all emotions but the usual anger she’d come to
know well.
Author Bio
SIGN UP FOR MY NEWSLETTER FOR A CHANCE TO WIN A $50 GC EVERY
MONTH!
here: http://mad.ly/signups/87477/join
here: http://mad.ly/signups/87477/join
Hi! I'm Milly (AKA April Angel) I love to write sexy stories.
They're usually either paranormal or contemporary with a large dose of heat. My
paranormal stories can be anything from wolf-shifters (my favorites) to
witches, demons and anything in between. I was born the prettiest part of the
Caribbean known as the Dominican Republic. Currently, I live in New York City
with my hubby, the bossy kiddo and our little dog "Needy Speedy".
Don't ask.
When I'm not working some really long hours at the day job, or
hanging out in the awful life-sucking invention known as Facebook, messaging my
bestie in the UK or shopping with my sis Julie, then I can be found watching
scary movies. Buuut when I'm not doing that, I'm usually writing because the
voices won't shut up.
I am addicted to shoe shopping, chocolate (but who isn't, right?)
and Dunkin' Donuts coffee.
Come by and visit me! I love to meet new readers!
Website: millytaiden.com
Facebook: facebook.com/millytaidenpage
Facebook: facebook.com/millytaidenpage
No comments:
Post a Comment