Название | Cornered In Conard County |
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Автор произведения | Rachel Lee |
Жанр | Современные любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Современные любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474062084 |
New York Times bestselling author Rachel Lee brings her beloved Conard County series to a new home!
NO PLACE TO HIDE
Conard County is a refuge for Dory Lake, a place to flee from her tragic past. For extra security, she goes to Cadell Marcus for one of his expertly trained guard dogs. Just the dog. But the part-time deputy can’t help digging deeper into the beautiful stranger’s history.
After learning the circumstances of the murders Dory witnessed, Cadell isn’t about to leave her at the mercy of the calculated killer. The madman is counting on finding Dory isolated, but Cadell vows that she’ll never be alone. Guarding her 24/7 is the only way to keep her safe…and to break down her emotional walls he wants so desperately to breach.
Conard County: The Next Generation
“I believe the feeling is mutual.”
She looked at Cadell then, daring to meet his gaze directly without sliding quickly away. His gaze was warm, inviting, suggesting delights she could barely imagine. Yet he remained a perfect gentleman with her. He was getting past her guard, little by little.
An electric shock seemed to zing between them. Something invisible was trying to push her closer to him.
But then he broke their gaze and turned. “Wanna come inside and rummage through my fridge before I take you back?” He glanced at his watch. “I go on duty in a couple of hours.”
Yup, in addition to sexual attraction, she was learning to like him a whole lot. Sexual attraction she could deal with. She’d sent away more than one guy over the years because she wasn’t going to get that close to anyone.
But liking? That could be even more of a risk.
Cornered in Conard County
Rachel Lee
RACHEL LEE was hooked on writing by the age of twelve and practiced her craft as she moved from place to place all over the United States. This New York Times bestselling author now resides in Florida and has the joy of writing full-time.
Contents
Dory stirred from sleep and tried to cover her ears. Daddy was fighting with her big brother, George, again. But later she realized it sounded different. Voices shouted, but was Mommy laughing? It didn’t sound like Mommy’s fun laugh.
Curious, Dory climbed out of bed, picked up her favorite bunny and stood at the head of the stairs. Daddy was still shouting. Sticking her thumb in her mouth, she stared at the pool of light pouring out of the kitchen downstairs. Mommy made a strange sound, and curiosity pushed Dory to descend.
Before she was halfway down, things got very quiet and she stopped. She wondered if she’d get into trouble for being out of bed. Daddy and Mommy were very strict about that. Once in bed, stay in bed until morning. George laughed about it, but he said Mommy and Daddy needed grown-up time. But George was mostly grown-up and he got to go out at night. That was probably why they were yelling. Dory hesitated. The yelling was gone.
But then she heard a strange sound and came downstairs the rest of the way. Bunny tucked under her arm, thumb in her mouth, she turned toward the light spilling from the kitchen.
Everything was red. Like paint. It was everywhere and Mommy and Daddy were on the floor covered in the paint. George stood there, his face all tight and funny as he looked at her.
“It’s okay, Dory. I made the bad man run away.” He squatted and held out his arms to her.
Usually Dory ran straight toward him, but George was covered with the red paint, too, and she didn’t like that.
“Dory? Come here, pumpkin.”
She saw what was in his hand. A knife. It was all red, too. Why was everything so red?
Some instinct pierced her, and terror shook her out of her confusion. She didn’t know what was going on, but she ceased to think. Something deep within her reacted, and she ran out the front door onto the street and started screaming...screaming...screaming.
Screaming.
Dory Lake awoke with her own screams ringing in her ears. The minute her eyes popped open, blessed lamplight greeted her, and for a moment, just a moment, she felt safe.
She remembered what she had seen, but over twenty-five years the nightmares had grown less frequent. Now they were coming back again, every night or several