Cavanaugh On Call
Can Bryce Cavanaugh and his mysterious new partner crack an impossible case?Detective Bryce Cavanaugh already has one tough investigation – an elusive home-invasion team on a dangerous crime spree. And his enigmatic fellow cop Alexandra "Scottie" Scott keeps throwing him curves. She's relentless; taking charge – and running down leads. But getting the stunning blonde to reveal her secrets is a challenge Bryce just can't resist.Scottie prefers to solve cases and save those close to her on her own. Keeping one step ahead of Bryce's hard-headed persistence is difficult enough. But tension-filled nights and high-adrenaline days are fuelling the passion between them and putting an inescapable target on their backs!
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A detective and his mysterious new partner must crack an impossible case in USA TODAY bestselling author Marie Ferrarellaâs thrilling new novel!
Detective Bryce Cavanaugh already has one tough investigationâan elusive home-invasion team on a dangerous crime spree. And his enigmatic fellow cop Alexandra âScottieâ Scott keeps throwing him curves. Sheâs relentless at taking chargeâand running down leads. But getting the stunning blonde to reveal her secrets is a challenge Bryce just canât resist.
Scottie prefers to solve cases and save those close to her on her own. Keeping one step ahead of Bryceâs hardheaded persistence is difficult enough. But tension-filled nights and high-adrenaline days are only fueling the passion between them and putting an inescapable target on their backs!
Scottie let out a ragged breath, trying to smile. âYouâre being too nice.â
âSorry, itâs in my DNA. Nothing I can do about it,â Bryce told her, leaning in closer as he wiped away another tear that insisted on spilling out.
The moment seemed to freeze, embossing itself on the folds of time. Very slowly, Bryce lowered his mouth to hers. It was a kiss meant to comfort, a kiss to tell her it was all right to cry. A kiss to let her know that she wasnât alone in this, that he was there for her and would continue to be there for her.
It bordered on more.
She knew she shouldnât have let it happen, or, at the very least, that she should have pulled back when it began. But once his lips touched hers, she realized that she was hungrier for comfort than she thought was humanly possible.
* * *
Be sure to check out the next books in this exciting series:
Cavanaugh JusticeâWhere Auroraâs finest are always in action
USA TODAY bestselling and RITA® Awardâwinning author MARIE FERRARELLA has written more than two-hundred-and-fifty books for Mills & Boon, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide. Visit her website, www.marieferrarella.com.
To
Dr. Stephen H. Johnson Who Always Makes Me Feel Well Cared For
Contents
Alexandra Scott eased herself slowly into the closest chair at the kitchen table. Her eyes were still half closed even though sheâd already showered, dressed and poured the obligatory mug of inky-black coffee that she needed to jump-start her day.
Holding the oversize mug with both hands, she forced herself to take a deep sip of the brew. It tasted like hot sludge. Scottie hated black coffee, but she wasnât drinking it for pleasure. She was drinking it because she had to. If she didnât, she was liable to wind up sleepwalking through half her dayâif not more.
The strong, black liquid landed in the pit of her stomach, spreading out like an oil slick: thick and impenetrable. Slowly it flowed through her entire body, rousing everything in its path until the sum total of her was not only awake but keenly alert.
Setting down the mug, the homicide detective took a deep breath and then blew it out again. Her breath made the wayward strands of dark blond bangs move ever so slightly.
She pushed them back impatiently. She wasnât one who fussed with her hair, but it would be nice if it could stay put.
How was it that mornings kept arriving faster and faster these days? It felt as if she had just laid her head down on her pillow and here it was, time to get up again and face a full day.
There should be a law, Scottie thought as she reached for the paper sheâd automatically picked up at her front door and brought in with her, that mornings werenât allowed to arrive until after a person had had six decent hoursâ sleep. After all, it wasnât as if sheâd been out carousing, enjoying Auroraâs limited nightlife. Sheâd been out keeping the citizens of that same city safe so that they could enjoy carousing or whatever it was that people enjoyed doing these days. She really wouldnât know about that. Working one job or another since before sheâd turned eighteen, for the last few years sheâd been a homicide detective and that had consumed almost all of her life.
Not that she minded, but it would be nice to get a good nightâs sleep every now and then.
Stifling a yawn, Scottie blinked once and tried to focus on the newspaper in front of her.
The local paper was her one attachment to her past. While everyone she knew got their news in sound bites or from the internet, Scottie still preferred to get hers from newsprint. Her late grandfather, the man sheâd been named after, had been a journalist and, in a way, though the man had died when she was seven, reading the newspaperâwhen she had the time for itâmade her feel close to the man.
She missed those days. Missed not feeling as if the world was on her shoulders.
