(Task Force Eagle, #4)
Published by: The Wild Rose Press
Publication date: January 29th 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Disaster strikes DEA Agent Holt Donovan twice, when a gunfight ruins his mission and a car crash kills his brother and sister-in-law. Home on the Colorado ranch to raise his infant nephew, Holt enlists a nanny—Maddy McCoy, the woman who once jilted his brother. The world-traveling photographer never expected to return to Colorado, the only real home she ever had, and to the man she never forgot. Burned out from covering too many starving children and refugees and short on funds, Maddy agrees, vowing to keep her heart safe. What neither of them knows is that by bringing her into his home, Holt has placed her in the crosshairs of a killer. As Holt and Maddy cope with their desire for each other and the resentments of the past, their investigation into the brother’s death leads them into escalating danger and a shocking discovery.
Excerpt
Bobby’s siren wail penetrated Holt’s consciousness like a nail in his skull.
He opened one eye. The lighted digital clock beside his bed read two o’clock. Right on time, little guy. “Coming,” he mumbled.
One foot on the floor. The other. He raked fingers through his hair, then pushed to his feet. Starting for the door, he snapped alert as though slapped.
Maddy McCoy.
He’d finished some paperwork in the office, then slipped off to bed early. But escape didn’t work worth a damn. The image of Maddy’s sassy face and the memory of her scent kept him torturing his sheets for hours before he finally slept.
Damn, she was in the master bedroom. He couldn’t troop through the house in his skivvies. Blinking in the darkened bedroom, he stumbled back and forth like a drugged steer as he searched for his jeans. Didn’t he leave them on the chair? Or on the floor? No. He put away the clean ones and tossed the manure-smeared ones into the washing machine. Where they remained.
Bobby cranked it up a notch. He could rival that opera singer, Luciano something.
Hell with it. Holt hit the door and burst into the hall.
And collided with a slim figure in filmy white.
He stumbled to a halt and braced himself as his arms went around her to stop her fall. She emitted a small yelp like a cartoon eek. Under his hands, her slender body in the silken covering was a miracle of curves and soft, toned female flesh. His body tightened and his pulse raced off to distant planets. The hallway suddenly didn’t have enough air.
He immediately set her away a step. Then he stepped back another. “Sorry. Bobby.” The baby’s cry subsided to hiccups and whimpers. No emergency, to his relief.
“Thought that was my job,” she said. “Two o’clock bottle. Diaper change. Like that.”
“You’re here to spell me when I’m doing ranch work.”
“A rancher needs sleep.” She returned his scowl, although humor tugged at the corner of her lips. “Why do you want me here if you won’t leave Bobby to me?”
He opened his mouth, closed it again with a snap.
Bobby cranked it up again. Only taking a breather. His wail rivaled an air raid siren.
“If you’ll get out of my way,” she said, tossing her hair and smoothing her nightshirt so it highlighted her breasts, “I’ll see to the baby.” The grin popped out, accompanied by a slow perusal down Holt’s body. “Nice...legs.”
He blinked, shot a glance downward. Damn, betrayed by his tented boxers. His Adam’s apple jumped as he swallowed hard. He jerked to the side along the wall, as if someone had pressed a knife to his side. “Bobby’s all yours.”
“Great!” She turned and swung her hips as she flounced toward the baby’s room.
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