The Protected

 FBI Psychics # 4

Sept 2013

AN ASSIGNMENT SHE CAN’T REFUSE

Agent Vaughnne MacMeans would do anything to avoid setting foot in Orlando again. But her new assignment, keeping tabs on a psychic kid who may or may not be in danger, is forcing her right back to the city where her sister was murdered. And the Special Agent in Charge isn’t taking no for an answer.

AN ATTRACTION HE CAN’T DENY

Protecting the boy Alex is a priority for Gus. Gus may not understand the boy’s “gift” but he just knows that some people would kill for it. When a beautiful stranger moves in next door, his impulse is to take the kid and run. But Gus has learned never to flee without a plan, and besides…she doesn’t exactly look like an assassin.

A GAME THEY’LL PLAY FOR KEEPS

When some dangerous people from Gus’s past catch up to him and Alex, it’s too late to run. His cute neighbor is the last person he thought he could turn to, but Vaughnne isn’t just cute. She’s fearless. And she’s the only chance Gus and Alex have left.

 Very unedited excerpt… just FYI, may change before the book is published.

After Gus had laid the sick boy on the bed, Vaughnne knelt at his side and touched his forehead, wincing at how hot he felt. He mumbled a little and batted at her hand before curling in around himself and clutching at his belly.

“How long has he been feeling bad?”

Gus was quiet.

Sighing, she tipped her head back and stared at him. “I need to call my boss and give him an update, let him know where we are so he can get somebody here to treat the kid. It would be helpful if I could give him some background on the kid’s condition.”

Long, tense moments passed and then Gus nodded slowly.

He held out a hand, and although she didn’t trust him any farther than she could throw him, she placed her hand in his, let him offer her assistance she didn’t need to rise to her feet.

He kept hold of her hand as he guided her across the room and toward the one area where they might have a modicum of privacy. Out of habit, she checked the bolt on the door. The latch was secured. The door was locked. Nobody had followed them and Vaughnne wasn’t about to let anybody near that kid. If they tried, she’d blow a hole through them or scramble their brains—whichever seemed to work best at the time.

Still . . . she checked.

Seconds later, the bathroom door closed at her back.

And then, she seemed to be the one who needed protection.

Gus went from the quiet protector to the warrior who’d leveled a gun at her, fully prepared to kill her. Before she could even catch her breath, he slammed her against the door, his forearm at her throat, pressing hard enough that she couldn’t draw her breath to scream.

She could have fought back.

She knew that.

And she knew how.

But as his misty eyes stared into hers, her heart slammed against her chest and she couldn’t breathe, could barely even think.

It wasn’t fear that seemed to crowd out all of her thoughts, though. Fear she could have handled.

This was so, so much worse.

“You need to understand something.” He leaned in, pressing his mouth to her ear. “And I want you to listen to me, very, very closely . . . Vaughnne. Is that even your name?”

She was pleased that her voice was almost steady as she said, “Yes. It’s my name. I gave you a false last name, but my first name is Vaughnne.”

“Hmmm.” He nuzzled her neck and little licks of pleasure shot all the way through her. “And FBI . . . are you really FBI?”

“Yes.” She closed her eyes as he pushed his thigh between hers. Oh, hell. What the hell was this? “You can call DC. They can verify.”

“They routinely give out names of their agents, Vaughnne?”

He licked her. What . . . the . . . hell? She shuddered as he crowded in closer. His forearm was still wedged against her throat, preventing her from moving, but it was no longer pressing against her so tight that it was a chore just to breathe. Well, it was, but that was because of the sheer, burning weight of lust. He traced his tongue down the line of her neck. “You did not answer me.”

Accent, she noticed dimly. He had an accent—she hadn’t ever heard it before. And she would have noticed, too, which meant the man’s skills just went from Category 4 strange to Category 5. At least.

Swallowing, she focused on his question. “Generally, no. But if you call and ask for the man I tell you to ask for, he will verify.”

“And isn’t that convenient?” He laughed a little, resting his free hand on her hip. His fingers flexed and she felt the imprint everywhere he touched. Every single place, from his thumb, to his little finger, curving over her flesh, kneading back and forth . . . “You give me a false number. A false name. So easy to fool me, you think?”

As his mouth came to cover hers, she averted her head. Finally, her brain was engaging.

Sex as a weapon. Not something she’d ever had directed at her, but whoa. Damn. That’s what this was and he was potent as hell. “You can look the damn number up on Google. I’m pretty sure I can’t control Google, although if I can get them to give me some major shares in the stock, hey, I’m game to try. You call that number, I’ll tell you how to get connected to the man who can vouch for me.”

His knee pushed between her thighs, and this time, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t keep from shuddering. Couldn’t keep from whimpering as he drew her in until she was all but riding his thigh. Oh. Hell.

“And what will he tell me when he vouches for you? What happens then? Somebody comes in here to take the child from me? I don’t think so, Vaughnne.”

“Nobody wants to take him away,” she snapped. And then she curled her hands into fists to keep from reaching for him as he shifted and settled his hips squarely between her own. She felt him now. All of him, the ridge of his cock, hot and thick, and damn it, if he hadn’t been aroused, this would have been easier, so much easier.

But sex as a weapon wasn’t really useful if the weapon wasn’t primed and ready to fire, she supposed.

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