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“That can’t happen! I can’t be in that kind of danger.”
Weston tried to keep his voice as calm as possible. Hard to do, though, with the emotions swirling like a tornado inside him. “I’m sorry. If there was another way to stop him, then I wouldn’t have come here. I know I don’t have a right to ask, but I need your help.”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t? You must want this killer off the street. It’s the only way you’ll ever be truly safe.”
Addie opened her mouth. Closed it. And she stared at him. “I’d planned on telling you. Not like this.”
There was a new emotion in her voice and on her face. One that Weston couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Tell me what?” he asked.
She dragged in a long breath and straightened her shoulders. “I can’t be bait for the Moonlight Strangler because I can’t risk being hurt.” Addie took another deep breath. “I’m three months pregnant. And the baby is yours.”
Lone Wolf
Lawman
Delores Fossen
DELORES FOSSEN, a USA TODAY bestselling author, has sold over fifty novels with millions of copies of her books in print worldwide. She’s received the Booksellers’ Best Award and the RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award. She was also a finalist for a prestigious RITA® Award. You can contact the author through her webpage at www.dfossen.net.
Contents
Addie Crockett heard the footsteps behind her a split second too late.
Before she could even turn around and see who was in the hall outside her home office, someone grabbed her.
She managed a strangled sound, barely. But the person slapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the scream that bubbled up in her throat.
Oh, mercy.
What was going on?
This was obviously some kind of attack, but Addie wouldn’t just let this person hurt her. Or worse. She rammed her elbow into her attacker’s stomach, but it did nothing to break the grip he had on her.
“Stop,” he snapped. “I won’t hurt you.”
Addie wasn’t taking his word for it. She turned, using his own grip to shove him against the wall and into an angel Christmas wreath. The painted wooden angels went flying. But not the man.
Addie tried to get his hand off her mouth so she could call out for help. Then she remembered her brothers weren’t at the ranch. Two were still at work, and the other was Christmas shopping in San Antonio. Only her mother was inside the house, and she had a sprained ankle. Addie didn’t want her mother to come hobbling into the middle of this.
Whatever this was.
“Stop,” he repeated when she kept struggling. His voice was a hoarse whisper, and he dragged her from the hall into her office.
Addie gave him another jab of her elbow and would have delivered a third one if the man hadn’t cursed. She hadn’t recognized his order for her to stop, but she certainly recognized his voice now.
Wes Martin.
The relief collided with the slam of adrenaline, and it took Addie a moment to force herself to stop fighting so she could turn around and face him. Even though the sun was already close to setting and the lights weren’t on in her office, there was enough illumination from the hall to see his black hair. His face. His eyes.
Yes, it was Wes all right.
The relief she’d felt didn’t last long at all.
“What are you doing here?” Addie demanded. “And how’d you get in the house?” Those were only the first of many questions, and how much else she told him depended on what he had to say in the next couple of seconds.
He didn’t jump to start those answers. Wes stood there staring at her as if she were a stranger. Well, she wasn’t. And he knew that better than anyone. He’d seen every last inch of her.
Ditto for her seeing every last inch of him.
And