The Deputy's Redemption. Delores Fossen

      

       She’d been attracted to Colt since she was old enough to feel attraction, and apparently that hadn’t changed one bit. If anything, that kiss had made it a heck of a lot worse.

      Mercy, he’d gotten even better at this since they were teenagers. Not that she’d expected anything less. With those hot cowboy looks, he’d no doubt had a lot of practice. That thought was something to cool the heat down just a bit.

      She definitely didn’t want to be another notch on Colt’s bedpost.

      Yes, they’d made out before, but they’d never gone further. Elise figured it was a good idea if that remained true. And the best way for that to happen was for the kiss to stop.

      He pulled back, his gaze snapping to hers, then lowering right back to her mouth. “That was a mistake.”

      Then, he dropped another of those scalding kisses on her mouth. He cursed some more, backed away from her. “And it’s also proof of why I need to put you in someone else’s protective custody.”

       The Deputy’s Redemption

      Delores Fossen

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      DELORES FOSSEN, a USA TODAY bestselling author, has sold over fifty novels with millions of copies of her books in print worldwide. She’s received the Booksellers’ Best Award and the RT Reviewers’ Choice Award, and was a finalist for a prestigious RITA^® Award. You can contact the author through her webpage at www.dfossen.net.

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      Contents

       Cover

       Introduction

       Title Page

       About the Author

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Extract

       Copyright

Chapter One

      Deputy Colt McKinnon caught the blur of motion from the corner of his eye.

      He hit the brakes, not hard, because there was likely some ice on the road, and he pulled his truck to a stop on the gravel shoulder.

       There.

      He saw it again.

      Someone wearing light-colored clothes was darting in and out of the trees. Since it was below freezing and nearly ten at night, it wasn’t a good time for someone to be jogging.

      Colt took a flashlight from the glove compartment and got out, sliding his hand over the gun in his belt holster, and he tried to pick through the darkness to see what was going on. Thankfully, there was a full moon, and he got another glimpse of the person.

      A woman.

      She was running and not just an ordinary run, either. She was in a full sprint as if her life depended on it.

      Colt hurried down the embankment toward her to see if anything or anybody was chasing her. There were coyotes in the woods, but he’d never heard of a pack going after a human. However, before he could see much of anything else, the woman ducked behind a tree.

      “I have a gun!” she shouted.

      Ah, hell.

      He instantly recognized the voice. Elise Nichols. A voice he darn sure didn’t want to hear at all, much less her yelling about having a gun.

      Her house was a good five miles from here, definitely not close by enough for her to be on foot. So what in the Sam Hill was she doing running in the woods in the middle of the night?

      “It’s me—Colt,” he said, just in case she thought he was a stranger.

      “I know exactly who you are.” Her voice was loud but very shaky. “And I have a gun.”

      “So do I,” he snarled, and Colt drew it to prove his point.

      Colt hadn’t exactly expected a warm, friendly greeting from Elise, but he hadn’t thought she was to the point of threatening to do him bodily harm.

      “What the heck are you running from?” he asked.

      She didn’t jump to answer. The only sounds were the February wind rattling through the bare tree branches and his heartbeat pumping like pistons in his ears.

      “I’m running from you,” she finally answered.

      Colt jerked back his shoulders. That sure wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting. Nor did it make a lick of sense.

      “I’m a deputy sheriff of Sweetwater Springs,” he reminded Elise just in case she was drunk or had gone off the deep end and couldn’t