Hot Cop Box Set by Karin Tabke

Author:Karin Tabke
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Star

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Reese toweled off, contemplating the many ways he would get Frankie out of her clothes, keep her safe, and milk her for information.

Unlike Jase, he was convinced at this point Frankie was a target, not the trigger. Keeping her alive was paramount, and it would ultimately draw out the trigger man. He was convinced the person who killed Santini was also the same person who wanted his daughter next to him.

Her refusal to divulge information about her business or her uncle told him she had something to hide. He wished she didn’t, but he understood her protectiveness of her family. He was working overtime in the charm department, portraying a character he was uncomfortable with but one he knew he must continue to play to get to her. If he could get her into bed a few more times, convince her he cared, he knew he could get the dirt. He needed her to slip up and drop information. And he knew she had lots of it.

He grinned. If she wanted location, he’d give her location. Bedding Francesca Donatello was no chore for him. No, she was a definite perk, and to his dismay, his natural reticent nature had taken a vacation. He liked verbally sparring with her, and he found himself actually looking forward to a woman’s company.

He scowled. He wanted her to be as innocent as she appeared.

Holy shit! He vigorously rubbed the towel over his head, drying his hair. If Jase or Ty had an inkling how he felt, he’d be pulled off this case faster than he could read the bad guy his rights. Was he losing his objectivity? Just asking the question threw him off balance. He tied the towel securely around his waist. Frankie was not getting under his skin.

The minute he opened the door to the living room he knew something was wrong. The silence, followed by the unmistakable sound of rounds being fired through a silencer, and the distinct sound of bullets splintering wood, was his next FBI clue. He grabbed his piece from the bathroom counter, where he set it before he jumped in the shower. With only a towel wrapped around him, he moved as stealthily as a jaguar to Frankie’s bedroom, where a man in waiter’s garb stood at the door to her bathroom, shooting a pattern through the door.

Frankie’s bloodied, bullet-ridden body flashed into his mind and he felt sick.

“Hey, wiseguy,” Reese called. The guy turned around and Reese shot him once, right between his surprised eyes.

Reese stepped over the body and kicked in the door to find Frankie hunched down in the big sunken tub, bullet holes marring the marble. He grabbed her arm and she screamed, but quickly recovered when she saw it was him. “C’mon, sweetheart, we need to get the hell out of here.”

She was already dressed, but he threw on his shirt and jumped into his jeans, then grabbed his boots and Frankie’s hand and ran from the room. As they waited for the elevator, Reese decided against taking it.

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