Hard Core Law

The words seemed final somehow. As if Josh had accepted something was about to happen and there was no going back.

He removed her hands and crossed his arms across his chest, tilting his head to stare at the top of hers because she was frightened to meet his hazel eyes. Frightened of the desperation she might see there.

“I made you the guardian of the twins last year.”

“Without asking me?”

“Yeah. I was afraid you’d say no.” Josh shrugged and lifted the corner of his mouth in a little smile. “You asked what I was willing to do. They’re my kids, Tracey. I’ll do anything for them, including prison time.”

“Just tell me what to do.”

“Nothing. You can’t be involved in this. It has to be me.” She believed him. She had to. But she couldn’t promise to stay out of his way. She meant what she’d said about doing anything for Jackson and Sage. And if that meant she was the one who went to jail … so be it.

Hard Core Law
Angi Morgan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ANGI MORGAN writes Mills & Boon Intrigue novels where honor and danger collide with love. Her work is a multiple contest finalist, RWA Golden Heart^® Award winner and Publishers Weekly bestseller. When not fostering Labradors, she drags her dogs—and husband—around Texas for research road trips so she can write off her camera. See her photos on bit.ly/aPicADay. Somehow, every detour makes it into a book. She loves to hear from fans at www.angimorgan.com or on Facebook at Angi Morgan Books.

There is never a book without my pals Jan, Robin, Jen, Lizbeth and Janie. Lena Diaz, thanks for the brilliant ideas and personal information you shared about raising a child with diabetes. Tim … I love you, man!

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

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

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

“It was great to meet you. Night.” The last of the birthday guests waved from their cars.

Tracey Cassidy stood at the front door waving goodbye to another couple she barely knew. Two sets of little arms stretched around her thighs, squeezing with an appropriate four-and-a-half-year-old grunt.

“What are you two doing up? I tucked you in three hours ago.”

“Happy birthday,” they said in unison.

Jackson and Sage giggled until the sound of a dish breaking in the kitchen jerked them from their merriment. Their faces, so similar but different, held the same surprise and knowledge that their daddy was in super big trouble.

“Daddy’s going to get it now.” Sage nodded until her auburn curls bounced.

“Hurry.” Tracey patted them on the backsides and pointed them in the right direction. “Back upstairs before the Major has to scoop you up there himself. You know you’ll have extra chores if he catches you down here.”

The twins took each stair with a giant tiptoeing motion. It would have been hilarious to watch them, but their dad was getting a bit louder and might come looking for her to help.

“Scoot, and there’s sprinkles on Friday’s ice-cream cone.”

Bribery worked. They ran as fast as their short legs could carry them up the carpeted staircase. Tracey was sure their dad heard the bedroom door close. Then again, he was making enough noise to wake the barn cats.

“Tracey!” he finally yelled, seeking help. “Where’s the dustpan?”

Hurrying to the back of the house, she found Major Josh Parker holding several pieces of broken glass in one hand and the broom in the other. A juggler holding his act. Yep, that’s what he looked like. He was still completely out of his element in the kitchen. Or the laundry. Good thing he had a maid.

“It should have been in the closet with the broom. Here, let me take these.” She reached for the pieces of crystal covered in the remnants of spinach artichoke dip.

“I’m good.” He raised the mess out of her reach. “Sorry about the bowl. I thought I was actually helping for once. Damn thing slipped right out of my hand.”

“Here, just put it in this.” She pulled the covered trash can over to the mess and popped the lid open.

“Hell, Tracey, you don’t have your shoes on. This thing splintered into a thousand pieces.”

Two forbidden words in one conversation? She’d never seen Josh even the little tiniest bit tipsy. But the group had toasted a lot tonight. First her birthday, then an engagement, then to another couple who’d looked at each other like lovebirds. Then to her birthday again.

“Are you a little drunk?” She ignored his warning and crossed the kitchen to look for the dustpan, which was hanging on the wall of the pantry exactly where it should have been. She turned to tell Josh and walked straight into his chest.

“Well, would you look at that.” He cocked his head to the side emphasizing his boyish dimple. “If it had been a snake it would have bitten me.”

“Bitten a big chunk right out of your shoulder.” She tapped him with the corner for emphasis, but he still didn’t back up out of the doorway.

Josh leaned his forehead against the wood and exhaled a long “whew” sound. The smell of whiskey was strong. He had definitely drunk a little more than she’d ever witnessed. Maybe a little more than he should have. But he’d also been enjoying the company of his friends. Something long overdue. Most of his free time was spent with the twins.

“We need a cardboard box or something. This stuff—” He brought the glass from his side to his chest. “It’ll bust through plastic.”

His head dropped to the door frame and he closed his eyes. This time he relinquished the broken glass to her and backed up with some guidance. She helped him to the table, set a cold bottle of water in front of him and went about cleaning the floor.

Technically, it wasn’t her job. She was officially off duty because Josh was home. But she couldn’t leave him with his head on the kitchen table and glass all over the place. The kids would get up at their normal time, even if it was a Saturday. And the maid service wouldn’t stop back around until Tuesday.

“The way you look right now, this mess might still be here after school Monday.”

She moved around the edge of the tiled kitchen avoiding as much of the mess as she could. He was right about one thing, glass was everywhere. She retrieved her sandals from the living room next to the couch. She’d kicked them off while watching the men in Josh’s company interact with one another.

The wives hadn’t meant to exclude her, but she wasn’t one of them. She was the hired help. The nanny. She detested that word and told those who needed to know that she was the child care provider. In between a few bits of conversation, she silently celebrated in the corner. Not just her birthday, but also the achievement of receiving her PhD.

I need to tell him.

She pulled her sandals from where they’d crept under the couch and slipped them on her feet.

“They weren’t very...approachable tonight, were they.” A statement. Josh didn’t seem to need an answer. One hand scrubbed at his face, while the other held a depleted water bottle. “Sorry ’bout this.”

“Hey, nothing to be sorry for. The cake was out of this world.”

“Vivian ordered it.”

“Yeah, I was sorry she couldn’t stay.” Josh’s receptionist had done her best to keep Tracey involved in the conversations. “Would you sit down before you fall down?”

“I’m not drunk. Just real tired. We’ve been working a lot, you know.”

“I do. I’ve been spending way too many nights here. The neighbors are going to start talking.”

“Let ’em.” He grinned and let his head drop to the back of the couch cushions. “They can whinny all they want. And moo. Or just howl at the moon. I might even join ’em.”

“I think you need a dog to howl.”

Josh’s closest neighbor was about three miles away. He did have several horses, three barn cats and let JimBob Watts run cattle on their adjoining field. No one was really going to know if she was there all night or not.

No one but them.

They’d become lax about it recently. Whatever case the Texas Rangers were working on had been keeping him at Company F Headquarters in Waco. The case would soon be over—at least their part in it. She’d gathered that info from one or two of those whiskey toasts.

Tracey looked around the room. Plastic cups, paper plates with icing, napkins, forks. How could ten people make such a mess? A couple of the women had tried to offer their help, but everyone had seemed to leave at the same time.

Of course, the man now asleep on the couch, might have mentioned it was late. And if she worked in his office, she might misinterpret that as an order to get out. Tracey sighed and picked up a trash bag. What did one more late night matter?

Not like she had any reason to rush back to her campus apartment. She dropped two plastic cups into the bag and continued making her way around the room. She might as well clean up a little. It was mostly throwaway stuff and it wasn’t fair to make the twins help their dad.

After all, it had been her birthday party.

Josh had his hands full just keeping up with the twins. The floor would be horrible by Tuesday if she didn’t pass a mop across it. So she cleaned the floors and stored the cake—not to mention put the whiskey bottle above the refrigerator. On the second pass through the living room, she took a throw from the storage ottoman and covered her boss.

It might be triple-digit weather outside, but Josh kept the downstairs like a freezer. She draped the light blanket across him and his hand latched on to hers.

* * *

JOSH SHOULD BE ashamed of himself for letting Tracey clean up while he faked sleep. Should be. He wasn’t drunk. Far from it. He was hyperaware of every one of Tracey’s movements.

“Tonight didn’t go exactly like I planned.”

“Oh shoot. I don’t know why you scared me, but I thought you were asleep. It was fun. A total surprise.” She placed her hand on top of his, patting it as if she was ready to be let loose. She also didn’t have a mean bone in her body. She’d never intentionally hurt his feelings.

But Josh had to hold on. If he let her go, he might not ever get the courage again. “You’re lying. You were miserable. I should have invited your friends.”

“It was great. Really.” She patted his hand again. “I better head out.”

“No.” He stood, letting her hand go but trapping her shoulders under his grip. He lightened up. “I mean. Can you stay a couple of minutes? I didn’t give you your present.”

“But you threw the party and everything.”

Was it his hopeful imagination that her words were a little breathier when he touched her? Touching was a rare occurrence now that the twins walked themselves up to bed and didn’t need to be carried. Not his imagination. Her chest under the sleeveless summer shirt was rising and falling faster.

One wayward strand of dark red hair that she tried so hard to keep in place was curled in the middle of her forehead. Most of the time she shoved it back in with the rest, but he practically had her hands pinned at her sides. This time, he followed through on a simple pleasure. He took the curl between his fingers and gently tucked it away.

Josh allowed the side of his hand to caress the soft skin of Tracey’s cheek. His fingertips whispered across her lips and her eyes closed. It was time. Now. A conscious decision. No spur-of-the-moment accident.

He leaned down as he tilted her chin up. Their lips connected and his hands wrapped around her, smashing her body into his. They molded together and all the dormant parts of his soul ignited.

Four years since he’d really held a woman in his arms. The last lips he’d tasted had been a sweet goodbye. It had been a long time since he’d thought about passion.

Tracey’s eyes opened when he hesitated for a split second. He didn’t see fear or surprise—only passion waiting for him. He kissed her again, not allowing them time to think or reconsider.

Her lips tasted like the coconut-flavored lip balm she recently began using. But her mouth tasted of the butter-flavored icing from her birthday cake. Lips soft and rich. Her body was toned, yet pliant against him.

Yes, he analyzed it all. Every part of her. He wanted to remember just in case he never got another chance.

Intimacy hadn’t been his since... Since... He couldn’t allow himself to go in that direction. Tracey was in his arms. Tracey’s body was responding to his caresses.

Their lips parted. He wanted to race forward, but they needed a beginning first. He’d worked it all out a hundred times in his head. This was logical. Start with a kiss, let her know he wanted more.

“Okay, that was...surprising for a birthday present.”

No doubt about it, her voice was shaking with breathlessness.

“Sorry, that wasn’t it. I kept the box at the office so the kids couldn’t say anything. It’s in the truck.” He slipped his hands into his jeans pockets to stop them from pointing to one more thing. One step away from her and he wondered if she was breathless or so surprised she didn’t know how to react.

“Josh?”

No.

“It’ll just take a sec.”

Tracey caught up with him and followed him onto the porch. “Maybe I should go home?” She smiled and rubbed his arm like a pal.

“Right.” He slipped his thumbs inside his front pockets. He lifted his chin when he realized it was tucked to his chest.

“It’s just... Well, you’ve been drinking and I don’t want...” Her voice trailed off the same way it did when she was sharing something negative about the twins’ behavior. She didn’t want to disappoint him. Ever.

“Got it.” He marched to her car and forced himself not to yank the door off the hinges.

“Don’t be mad. It’s not that I didn’t—”

“Tracey. I got it.”

And he did. All he knew about Tracey was that she’d been there for him and the kids. Assuming she felt the same when— Dammit, he didn’t know anything about her life outside their small world here.

“I’m going to head out.” Purse over her shoulder, she waved from the front door of her car. “Night.” She waved and gently shut the door behind her.

Change is a mistake. Nah, he’d had this debate with himself for weeks. It was time to move on. He couldn’t be afraid of what might or might not happen.

Tracey’s tires spun a little in the gravel as she pulled away. He hoped like hell that he hadn’t scared her away. From him, maybe. But she wouldn’t leave the twins, right? She was the only mother they’d ever had in their lives.

For a while, he’d thought he admired her for that. But this wasn’t all about the kids. He needed her to say that she felt something for him. Because four years was long enough.

He was ready to love again.

Chapter One

Nothing. Two weeks since Josh Parker had kissed her, and then avoided her like the plague. Two weeks and she’d barely seen him. Adding insult to injury, he’d even hired a teenager to watch the kids a couple of nights.

Tracey tilted the rearview mirror to get a better view of Jackson and Sage. They were too quiet. Smiling at each other in twin language. It was ice cream Friday and they’d behaved at school, so that had meant sprinkles. And they’d enjoyed every single colored speck.

The intersection was busier than usual. The car in front of her turned and Tracey finally saw the holdup. The hood was up on a small moving van at the stop sign. She was making her way around, pulling to the side, when another car parked next to the van.

“Tracey, we’re hungry,” Sage said.

“I know, sweetheart. I’m doing my best.” She put her Mazda in Reverse trying to turn around in the street. “Can you reach your crackers, Jackson?”

“Yep, yep, yep,” he answered like the dinosaur on the old DVDs he’d been watching. She watched him tug his little backpack between the car seats and snag a cracker, then share a second with Sage.

“Just one, little man. You just had ice cream.”

Two men left the moving van and waved at her to back up. She was awfully close to the other van, but she trusted their directions. Right up until she felt her car hit. She hadn’t been going fast enough for damage, but the guy seemed to get pretty steamed and stomped toward her door.

Great what a way to begin her weekend.

The men split to either side of her car, where one gave her the signal to roll down her window. She lowered it enough to allow him to hear her, then she unbuckled and leaned to the glove compartment for her insurance card.

“Sorry about that, but your friend—” Tracey looked up and froze.

Now in a ski mask, the man next to her window shouted, pulling on the door handle, tapping on the window with the butt of a handgun before pushing the barrel inside. “Open the door!”

She hit the horn repeatedly and put the car back into gear, willing to smash it to bits in order to get away. But it was wedged in tight. Once she’d backed up, they’d quickly used two vehicles to block her, parking in front and behind, pinning her car between the three.

Would they really shoot her to carjack an old junker of a Mazda?

“You can have the car. If you want money, it’ll take a little while, but I can get that, too. You don’t have to do this.” She kept careful control of her voice. “Just let me unsnap the twins and take them with me.”

“Get out! Now!” A second gunman shouted through the glass at the passenger door.

Where were all the cars now? Why had she lowered the window an inch to answer this man’s question? What if they didn’t let her get the kids out? Her mind was racing with questions.

They shouted at her, banging on the windows. The twins knew something was wrong and began to cry. Tracey gripped the steering wheel with one hand and blared the horn with the other. Someone had to hear them. Someone would come by and see what was happening.

“Lady, you get out of the car or I’ll blow you away through the window.” Gunman One pointed the gun at her head.

“You don’t want these kids. Their dad’s the head of the Texas Rangers in this area.”

With a gun stuck in her face, Tracey didn’t know how she was speaking—especially with any intelligence. Her hands were locked, determined to stay where they were. That’s when she had the horrible feeling it wasn’t a random carjacking.

“You’re wrong, sweetheart. That’s exactly why we want them,” Gunman Two said.

“Shut up, Mack!” Gunman One screamed, hitting the top of the car. “You!” he yelled at her again. “Stop blabbing and get your butt out here before I blow your brains all over those kids.”

One of the drivers got out of his box truck with a bent pole. Not a pole. It looked like it had a climbing spike on the end.

“No!” She leaned toward the middle, attempting to block what she knew was coming.

The new guy swung, hitting the window, and it shattered into pebble-size glass rocks. The kids screamed louder. She tried to climbing into the backseat. The locks popped open and three doors flew wide.

Gunman One latched on to her ankles and yanked. Her chin bounced against the top of the seat. Jarring pain jolted across her face. Before she could grab anything or brace herself, her body tumbled out of the car. Twisted, her side and shoulder took most of the fall to the street.

She prayed someone would drive by and see what was happening. She looked everywhere for help. Wasn’t there anyone who could intervene or call the police? Her small purse was still strapped across her chest, hidden at her hip. Her cell phone was still inside so maybe she could—

Gunman One flipped open a knife and sliced the strap, nicking her neck in the process. “We wouldn’t want you to call Daddy too soon. You got that tape, Mack?” He jerked her to her feet, hitting the side of her head with his elbow. “You just had to play the hero.”

“Here ya go, Mack.” Gunman Two, already in the car, tossed him duct tape.

Gunman One smashed her face into the backseat window, winding the tape around her wrists. Both of the children were screaming her name. They knew something wasn’t right. Both were trapped in their car seats, clawing at the straps then stretching their arms toward her.

“It’s okay, guys. No one’s going to hurt you.” She tried to calm them through the glass. “Please don’t do this. Jackson has diabetes. He’s on a restricted diet and his insulin level has to be closely—”

Gunman One rolled her to her back and shoved her along the metal edge of the Mazda to the trunk.

Oh my God. They knew. She could tell by his reactions. She was right. It wasn’t a carjacking. This was a planned kidnapping of Josh Parker’s twins. Gunman One knocked her to the ground. The other men cut the seat belts holding the kids, took them from the car in their car seats, grabbing their tiny backpacks at the last minute.

How could men in ski masks be assaulting her in broad daylight and no one else see them?

“Please take me. I won’t give you any trouble. I swear I won’t. I...I can look after Jackson. Make sure he doesn’t go into shock.”

Gunman One pulled her hands. “You won’t do, sister. It’s gotta be somebody he loves.”

“Let him have crackers. Okay? He has to eat every three or four hours. Something,” she pleaded. “Sage, watch your brother!”

When this had all started, Tracey hadn’t paid attention to what the man coming to her window had looked like. An average guy that she couldn’t swear was youngish or even in his thirties. They were all decked out in college gear. She searched this man’s eyes that were bright and excited behind the green ski mask, memorizing everything about their brown darkness.

The tiny scar woven into his right eyebrow would be his downfall. He raised the butt of the gun in the air. She closed her eyes, anticipating the blow. The impact hurt, stunning her. Vision blurred, she watched them carry the twins, running to the back of the moving van. Her legs collapsed from the pain, and she hit the concrete without warning.

I’m so sorry, Josh.