LITMIR.BIZ

      CAST OF CHARACTERS

      Lieutenant Jared Dillard—Even though he still cares for his soon-to-be ex-wife, Rachel, he believes she’s out of his life for good—until he receives word that someone stole the fertilized embryo they stored years ago. Now there’s a child—their child—and the baby will die if Jared and Rachel don’t work together to find him.

      Rachel Dillard—She’s been in protective custody for over a year, and just hours before she’s supposed to testify against her dirty dealing boss, she learns that she has a newborn son. If she doesn’t testify, a killer will go free, but if she takes the stand, her child will die.

      Clarence Esterman—Rachel’s former boss would do anything to stop her from testifying against him.

      Sergeant Colby Meredith—Is he a cop on the take with orders from Esterman to assassinate Jared?

      Lyle Brewer—Clarence Esterman’s lawyer. He’s possibly Esterman’s silent partner and the one who has Rachel and Jared’s baby.

      Donald Livingston—Is this prison warden the mastermind behind Esterman’s plan to stop Rachel from testifying, or is he simply a pawn in a dangerous game?

      To my brother, Mike, and his wife, Ann Marie

      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 Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter Eighteen

      Chapter Nineteen

      Chapter Twenty

      Chapter One

      Jared heard the footsteps a split second before the man aimed a semiautomatic at his head.

      “Don’t move,” the officer ordered. He stepped around the side of the ranch house and approached Jared as if he were a cobra ready to strike. In a way, he was.

      With the thick envelope still clutched in his hand, Jared lifted his arms in a show of surrender. “I’m Lieutenant Dillard, San Antonio PD. I believe you’re expecting me?”

      “It’s all right, Smitty,” a woman called out from inside the house. “He’s Rachel’s husband. I recognize him.” The door opened, and Detective Miller, the dark-haired officer on the other side, motioned for Jared to enter.

      “Lieutenant Dillard,” she greeted. “I wish you were here under different circumstances.”

      The officer glanced at the envelope, and from the somber expression on her thin face it was clear that she thought it contained the divorce papers that Jared had mentioned on the phone.

      It didn’t.

      But it would have been far better if it had.

      Jared stepped inside and made a mental note of the weapons that were neatly arranged in a rack next to the door. Side arms and rifles for backup. Extra magazines of ammunition. Ditto for the two Texas Rangers posted at the checkpoint at the end of the road. They were armed to the hilt.

      Maybe the four peace officers wouldn’t try to use those weapons against him before this visit was over.

      He glanced around the sparsely furnished place and spotted Rachel right away. She was in the adjoining room that had been converted to a gym of sorts. She was barefoot. Her shoulder-length dark blond hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail. She wore a pair of loose gray boxers and a red sleeveless T-shirt.

      Oh, man.

      She looked good. It’d been months since Jared had last seen her and well over a year since he’d had her in his bed. But even after all that time and after everything that had gone on between them, the thought of making love to Rachel still set his blood on fire.

      He had too-vivid memories of her naked body slick with perspiration. The feel of her firm breasts beneath his hands. The scent of her arousal mixed with his. The heat of her mouth. The eagerness of her touch.

      Which obviously wouldn’t be so eager now.

      Jared watched as she pounded her fists and then her forearms into the punching bag. The blows weren’t random but part of a workout routine. Shaolin boxing. And from the looks of things, she wasn’t a beginner.

      “Hello, Jared. You’re early. I didn’t expect you for another hour.” Rachel spared him a cool glance with those intense jungle-green eyes before she peeled off her scarred boxing gloves. She picked up a bottle of water from a weight bench, took her time drinking it and then strolled to the window.

      Ah, the ice princess act. Her favorite. He recognized it immediately. It probably fooled her bodyguards, but it sure as hell didn’t fool him. She was riled by his visit.

      Interesting.

      “When did you take up Shaolin boxing?” he asked, walking toward her.

      Rachel wiped the perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand. “About a year ago.”

      Of course. It made sense. After all, there was a reason she was in protective custody. This was probably her way of dealing with the constant fear and stress from Clarence Esterman’s

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