San Antonio Secret
A San Antonio rodeo may hold the key to finding the truth behind two missing people! When Sierra Bradford's best friend and goddaughter are abducted, she vows to find them at any cost. Even if that means teaming up with former Green Beret Rafe Vargas, who's come to her aid…and not for the first time. But their powerful attraction is growing out of control!
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A San Antonio rodeo may hold the key to finding the truth behind two missing people
When Sierra Bradford’s best friend and goddaughter are abducted, she vows to find them at any cost. Sierra—shot at the scene of their kidnapping—checks in to a motel to treat her wounds. It’s there that she encounters former Green Beret Rafe Vargas, who’s come to her aid…and not for the first time. As his best friend’s sister, Sierra is off-limits. But that hardly stops a powerful attraction from growing as they work together on an undercover sting operation to find her friend’s adbuctors. Under the guise of a rodeo cowboy and his pregnant wife, Rafe and Sierra come to find out that the rodeo may be the key to their investigation—and their possible future.
Her eyelids snapped open, expression foggy with sleep.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice gravelly and deep.
She blinked. Her hand gripped his chest hair. She moved her leg slightly against his hip. Her eyes widened; her cheeks reddened.
The pulse at the base of her throat accelerated. Her pupils dilated.
She didn’t move. She pressed closer.
His heart leaped away. The burn simmering inside his gut exploded. He shook with the effort to maintain control.
He couldn’t look away. She’d captured him with her gaze. He held his breath.
“Rafe,” she whispered. Her tongue dampened her lips.
“You should move.” He cleared his throat. “Or I should.”
She lifted her hand from the bare skin of his chest. She nodded in agreement, tossing a wave of disappointment and resignation through him.
He allowed his hands to fall back to the sheets. All for the best. But right now he had to get away from here. He needed that shower or to dunk himself into a tub of ice. “I think I’d better—”
“Don’t think,” Sierra whispered.
Award-winning author ROBIN PERINI’S love of heart-stopping suspense and poignant romance, coupled with her adoration of high-tech weaponry and covert ops, encouraged her secret inner commando to take on the challenge of writing romantic suspense novels. Robin loves to interact with readers. You can catch her on her website, www.robinperini.com, and on several major social-networking sites, or write to her at PO Box 50472, Albuquerque, NM 87181-0472.
For my agent, Jill Marsal, and my editor, Allison Lyons.
I’m blessed to have you in my corner during the good times and the bad.
Thank you. For everything.
Contents
Two months ago, Denver, Colorado
Dreary November clouds hung low and menacing, blocking out the clear blue of the Denver sky. Small pricks of ice laced the air, but Rafe Vargas didn’t feel the cold, even as a puff of visible breath escaped his lips. His focus lasered on the door of the warehouse.
Most of the block was deserted, but orange caution tape and cones peppered the streets. Not surprising. Rafe didn’t have to walk inside the building to know dynamite and detonator cords crisscrossed the location. This entire block of downtown had been scheduled to be dust in a matter of minutes. Covert Technology Confidential’s resident geek, Zane Westin, better be right about the target’s coordinates.
Rafe tugged the stocking cap around his ears to camouflage his identity, bowing his head to avoid providing the surveillance camera a clear image of the patch covering his left eye. That psycho serial killer Archimedes needed to believe the man currently sneaking into the building was Rafe’s best friend and fellow CTC operative, Noah Bradford, otherwise two women might die: the woman Noah guarded and had fallen in love with, and the one Rafe had flown across the country to rescue, Noah’s sister, Sierra.
Archimedes was attempting to use her as leverage to stop Noah’s investigation. Rafe wasn’t about to let that happen, but if he had a prayer of getting her out alive, he had to locate her first.
Then again, if he found Sierra in time to save her life, he might have to kill her. Or kiss her until neither one of them could breathe—the way he’d wanted to from the day they’d met.
Either choice made his gut ache. Best friends’ sisters were off-limits for one. Secondly, and more immediately, Archimedes liked to play deadly games, and he didn’t give a rip about collateral damage. He might just murder Sierra for the satisfaction of proving he could.
Rafe palmed his Kimber 1911 and slipped through the warehouse door. He eyed a camera and ducked behind a large concrete support in a visual dead zone. That ominous and all-too-familiar tingle skittered down Rafe’s spine. He had no doubt Archimedes was watching. The man was a sick voyeur, and the moment Rafe showed himself, the serial killer would know.
“We’re clear,” a worker in a yellow hard hat called across the room to the blaster.
“Then let’s get out of here. This sucker’s going to collapse like a pancake.”
