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A cowboy cop tracks down a perilous passion in New York Times bestselling author Carla Cassidy’s explosive new thriller!
For Cassie Peterson, finding out her new ranch was the site of a cold case is horrifying. But now one of her cowboys has been murdered, just like the previous victims! Cassie will do whatever it takes to help Chief of Police Dillon Bowie find the killer, but will getting close to the handsome lawman put more than her home at risk?
Dillon’s been working hard to crack the original case—and keep feisty Cassie out of his thoughts. But when disturbing new clues prove the murderer is obsessed with Cassie, Dillon will tempt fate to guard the beauty and solve a terrifying mystery.
Dillon didn’t plan it, but before he knew it, Cassie was in his arms.
As she raised her face he captured her lips with his. She tasted of chocolate and raspberry and white-hot desire, and her body was invitingly warm against his.
She curled into him as if wanting to be as close as possible. Dillon reached a hand up. He stroked it through her springy soft hair and deepened the kiss.
He finally tore his mouth from hers and peered down at her. “Was that a mistake?” she asked as she raised a finger to her lower lip.
“Probably,” he replied. “There’s something about you that makes me want more…”
* * *
Be sure to check out the next books in this exciting series: Cowboys of Holiday Ranch—Where sun, earth and hard work turn men into rugged cowboys…and irresistible heroes!
Killer Cowboy
Carla Cassidy
CARLA CASSIDY is an award-winning, New York Times bestselling author who has written more than onehundred-and-twenty novels for Mills & Boon. In 1995, she won Best Silhouette Romance from RT Book Reviews for Anything for Danny. In 1998, she won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series from RT Book Reviews. Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write.
Contents
An elephant stood on Cassie Peterson’s head. Boom. Boom. Boom. No, not standing. The darned behemoth was happily dancing on her skull, shooting out excruciating pain with each two-step.
She closed her gaping mouth and frowned at the nasty taste. Apparently, a carnival had also set up camp there and left behind a fuzzy tongue and the lingering taste of apple cider.
She cracked open an eyelid and groaned. No elephant in the bedroom. It was just a hangover from hell. How many glasses of Abe Breckenridge’s famous apple cider had she drunk last night? And what on earth had he spiked it with?
Her headache continued to bang as she rolled over on her back and stared up at the ceiling. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d suffered this kind of a hangover.
She also remembered very little of the last hour of the barn dance she’d thrown the night before. Despite her head pain a small smile curved her lips.
The barn dance had been a rousing success. Nearly everyone who lived in the small town of Bitterroot, Oklahoma, had attended.
Besides the fancy Western wear, some of the attendees had gotten
