Special Agent Lee Dawson has secrets. Secrets that forced her from Dallas to New York City in disgrace two years ago.
Dallas County Assistant District Attorney Nate Crane visits New York and witnesses the brutal murder of a friend. When Lee is assigned to the investigation, her personal and professional life collide. She can’t avoid the man she ditched six months ago.
She’s the one Nate can’t stop thinking about. The one he let get away. He’s determined to get her back, no matter what she thinks she wants. Being a witness in her case puts them close—and Nate intends to keep it that way.
After Nate’s attacked at a safe house, Lee knows there’s a leak—a dirty FBI agent working with the human trafficker her unit has been hunting for years.
Can Lee protect her witness and resist the heat between them, or will she succumb to her desires and throw them both into danger?
Reader Advisory: This book contains scenes of kidnap and references to human trafficking.
General Release Date: 6th June 2014
Sweat broke out on her brow and Lee gripped her Glock tighter instead of wiping the moisture away. She bit back a curse.
What’s taking so long?
They should’ve already heard shouts of “Federal agents!”
She hated being in the back. Being back-up.
Lee and her partner, Clint Downs, were the lead agents of their unit, and usually headed raids.
Not today.
Their boss, Special Agent Olivia Barnes, wanted them—Lee in particular—to take a breather from going hard and fast.
Nothing wrong with the passenger seat, right?
Maybe if she kept telling herself that, it’d sink in.
Hard and fast was all Lee knew. How she got the job done. But even her partner had reminded her there were twelve members of their human trafficking unit. They were all partners.
Ugh. She’d rather hang a ‘Doesn’t play well with others’ sign around her neck.
“You good?”
Her partner’s gravelly voice made Lee tense. “Yup.” She didn’t look his way.
“You seem shaky.”
“I’m good.” Flexing her fingers on her gun’s grip, she inched forward. “Wanna get this done.”
Downs didn’t have a chance to answer. The battering ram exploded the door in front of them and wood splinters went flying.
Collective shouts of “Federal agents!” coupled with “FBI!” surrounded her and she rushed forward behind her teammates. In correct formation, head in the game.
We’re doing this.
Screams and whimpers greeted her ears. Her heart used to jump with the fears of the victims every time they did a raid, but not anymore. Instead it was steel, and her gut made of iron.
Lee was used to seeing tears, and hearing them cry. What she’d never get used to were the bruises and skimpy clothing on kids that were less than half her age.
Babies. They’re all babies.
Most weren’t even sixteen, yet in a lot of cases they’d been bought, sold and forced to have sex with more pieces of scum than she could count. The lucky ones got owners that didn’t beat them, but a sex-slave was still a sex-slave.
Bastards. They all needed to die.
The relief on the girls’ faces when they first realised they were being rescued was always a reward. Reminded Lee she was a good person—why she did the job. If only the sentiment lasted in her mind.
A shot rang out and her instincts kicked in. She dropped to the dingy carpet and rolled to the nearest cover—a dark-coloured couch.
Someone returned fire just as her partner crouched beside her. “Shit,” Downs spat. “It’s going south, fast.”
Lee smirked and raised her Glock. “Nah, we got this.” She popped up over the couch for a quick survey. A bullet whizzed overhead and her partner yanked her back down.
“Don’t be reckless.”
When he flashed his perma-scowl, she almost rolled her eyes. How many times had he said that?
Welllllllll, for today it’s probably the first time.
Orders to drop weapons went unheeded as more bangs made her ears ring. She risked another look over the couch. Other members of their unit had taken cover, but several were returning fire.
One of the girls screamed again and Lee’s gaze darted that way. Three—no, four—teens were huddled in a corner, arms wrapped around each other, but they were out of the line of fire.
Good.
Today’s group of fine, upstanding human traffickers was made up of illegals from Mexico. Lee and Downs had been after these guys for months. The fact they’d hooked up with Tony Caselli’s outfit was dumb luck.
The other object of today’s raid—Giovanni Nicci—was shooting a big .45. One of the assholes he was supposed to sell girls to lay in a pool of blood about five feet from him. Dead Mexican’s partner returned fire next to Nicci.
If—no, when—the FBI gained control of the situation, their unit would score double. According to the morning’s intel, Nicci was supposed to be meeting up with Russians. They’d have to find out why there’d been a change in plans later. It had to mean something.
Lee took a shot, hearing her partner curse next to her. She ignored him and pulled the trigger again.
Nicci shouted something in Italian and grabbed his arm. She’d hit the bastard, but it wasn’t mortal. He backed up quickly, retreating down the hallway.
“Least let me cover your ass,” Downs’ shout sounded behind her as Lee scooted around the couch to pursue Nicci.
Gunfire in the front room came to a halt as members of their unit fell in behind Lee and her partner. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Evan Roberts wrench the second Mexican’s arms behind his back to cuff him after kicking the guy’s forty away. The short and stocky man started cursing in Spanish. He gestured and told the FBI agent to lick his balls.
Lee smirked when Roberts answered the man’s insult with something appropriate in Spanish.
Mexican Two snapped his mouth shut.
Didn’t expect him to speak the language, huh, scum?
She kept moving, sensing her partner’s large frame at her back. He inched forward and they made eye contact for a split second. Downs nodded towards the master suite of the apartment and Lee moved beside him to the right.
Another one of the guys moved in to cover their asses and her partner kicked the door in. Nicci fired a shot even before the wood slammed into the wall. Lee didn’t hesitate. She pulled the trigger of her forty not once, but twice.
The Italian thug grunted and winced. He dropped the gun as members of her unit swamped the room. “Fuck me. All-fucking-right!”
“Hands up.” Lee smirked and gestured with her Glock. “C’mon, I don’t need an excuse to put another hole in you, Nicci.”
“I got witnesses, bitch.”
“Yeah, yeah. Shut it, Nicci,” Downs ordered.
Her partner holstered his Glock and Lee kicked Nicci’s weapon away. With the help of Agent Bobby Smythe, Downs hauled the injured piece of scum to his feet.
“Hey! I have rights.”
Lee laughed and holstered her gun after the click and slide of her partner’s cuffs shouted Nicci was secure. “Yeah, rights. Like those little girls out there. You’re real concerned about rights.”
“Fuck you.”
“Not in a million years.”
“Partner, I got this. Why don’t you see about the girls?” Downs asked, one dark eyebrow arched.
Lee narrowed her eyes, but nodded. Did he think she was going to attack the trafficker or something? “I’ll get the medics on the way for His Highness here.”
Smythe snorted.
She palmed her cell and turned on her heel, shaking her head. Lee made the call. Medics would be there in a few. She took one look at the four petrified teens huddled in the corner and swallowed back a curse. They should’ve let Nicci lie on the floor and bleed.
Lee sucked in a calming breath and approached the real victims of the raid.
USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR
Bestselling, award winning author of romantic suspense and epic fantasy romance, C.A. loves to dabble in different genres. If it's a good story, she'll write it, no matter where it seems to fit!
She's a hopeless romantic and always will be. Risking it all for Happily Ever After is what she lives by!
C.A. is originally from Ohio, but got to Texas as soon as she could. She's happily married and has a bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice.
She works with kids when she's not writing.
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