“Why do you do this crazy stuff, Delilah?” Mick demanded.
Del tightened her hands on the edge of the counter. “The media claims I do it because I like writing about heroes, about guys who can win against all odds, and setting myself up as a heroine.”
“Are you?”
“No.” It was difficult to think with him so close. “And look who’s talking! A man who deliberately takes a bullet in the back for a stranger.”
His eyes, when they met hers, were dark, intense. “I couldn’t bear the thought of that bullet hurting your soft skin,” he whispered. He pressed his face into her throat and held her in a tender, possessive way that made her heart rap hard.
“I don’t need you to protect me,” she said.
“Tough. We’ve forged a bond, you and I.” Tangling his hand in her hair, he tipped her head back.
“What does that mean?” She found it hard to breathe with him watching her as if he could see her soul.
“It means you’re mine now.”
Dear Reader,
When Mick Dawson first appeared in Beguiled, he was a sixteen-year-old stud with a grown-up’s sense of responsibility and a heart begging for love. I loved him, and many of you must have, too, based on the number of letters I received asking for Mick’s story.
Now, in Caught in the Act, Mick is all grown up, still very much a stud and, yep, he’s still looking for love, whether he realizes it or not. Of course, I had just the right woman for him! Between me and Mick’s two friends Zack and Josh (pretty hunky heroes themselves), we gave Mick everything he deserved—and more. Poor Mick didn’t stand a chance.
I hope you enjoy reading Caught in the Act as much as I enjoyed writing it.
And be sure to check back next month for Treat Her Right, Zack’s story, Harlequin Temptation #852, and then again in November to see what Josh has gotten into in Mr. November, Harelquin Temptation #856.
Happy reading!
Lori Foster
Caught in the Act
Lori Foster
I want to give a very special thanks to
Officer LaDon Laney, who exemplifies the types of heroes I enjoy writing about. While helping me with my research, Officer Laney spoke of his family, his community, his co-workers and his job with admirable love and respect. His help was invaluable to me.
And to Kathy McCutter for medical assistance,
and Lynda Sue Cooper for answering “cop” questions.
You’re all wonderful!
Contents
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 ONE
RAIN DRUBBED THE WINDOW sluggishly, but Mick Dawson could still see out, still see all the different people milling around with colorful umbrellas and hats. He was so intent on watching for her he listened to the conversation with only half an ear. But then, half an ear was the most required when his friends got started on that particular topic.
“See that gorgeous blonde?” Josh Marshall said, deliberately baiting as usual. “The one who just came in? She’s wearing a push-up bra.”
“Is that right?” Zack Grange kept his tone dry. “How can you tell?”
“I know women.” Josh’s reply held an overdose of world-weary cynicism. “And I especially know women’s breasts.” He added, “At your age, I’d think you would, too.”
“Yeah, and at your age,” Zack retorted, “I’d have thought you’d outgrown your adolescent obsessions.”
The three of them sat in the corner booth at Marco’s, a casual Italian restaurant they’d first discovered five years ago. It was central to where they each worked, in the downtown area.
They came often, more so every year, it seemed, until now they met almost daily for lunch and often for dinner, too. None of them was married. Josh remained a confirmed bachelor, Zack was now a widower and Mick…well, Mick hadn’t met the right woman. His criteria were strict, but to his mind, marriage was forever. He’d seen the worst quite often, marriages made in hell and sustained with sarcasm and cheating and drink. He’d also witnessed that elusive best, unions overflowing with love and trust and support. No way would he settle for less than what he knew could and should be.
Because of their different jobs—each of them stressful—and their lack of romantic ties, meeting at Marco’s was about as close to a domestic routine as the three men ever saw.
The restaurant served as a place for celebration—a promotion, a new house, whatever came up that seemed celebration worthy. They also commiserated with each other there, as when Zack’s young wife had died and he’d wanted to retreat from life, not seeing anyone, not doing anything except coddling his little girl. Or after Mick had gotten shot in the leg and missed several weeks of work, making him edgy.
Mick’s life was all darkness and threats and caution. Ugly. Except here at Marco’s, and with the people he trusted—his two friends, his family.
No one else. At least, not yet.
No woman had ever snagged his attention long enough to build a trust, certainly never for anything serious. Until now.
Now he was intrigued.
“Mick, tell this fool that breasts don’t lift to the sun like a flower.” Josh laughed at his own jest. “If they’re damn near touching her chin, she’s wearing a push-up bra.”
Mick glanced at Zack and grinned. “Josh is an idiot where women are concerned—including his insane fascination with breasts, which, I agree, he should have outgrown years ago.”
Josh
