Heart Of Justice 03 - Under His Protection(1).pdf

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Under His Protection
Heart Of Justice
Denise A Agnew
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Under His Protection
Heart Of Justice
Denise A Agnew
(c) 2009
ISBN 978-1-59578-548-0
Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509
Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2009, Denise A Agnew. All
rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or
otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
Manufactured in the United States of America
Liquid Silver Books
http://LSbooks.com
Email:
raven@LSbooks.com
Editor
Katie Bryan
Cover Artist
April Martinez
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of
the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual
events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
Blurb
SWAT sniper Trey MacGilvary likes his women wild and hot…
Trey’s adventurous streak once served him wrong, now it makes him dangerous to
criminals and devastating to female hearts.
Englishwoman Olivia Scott lives a quiet life as a librarian with nothing more
exciting to cogitate on than which video to rent on a Friday night and which pie to create
for the local bake off. When Trey rescues her from a disturbed man’s brutal attack, and
she’s left injured and vulnerable, he vows she’ll be under his protection from that point
forward. The enthusiasm and unpredictability of his life stirs erotic passions within her
that threaten to reinvent the woman she always thought she was.
Trey finds the plucky, bookish woman intriguing, but believes he isn’t interested in
long-term commitment. His attraction to her boils sky high and he battles with emerging
feelings he never thought he’d have again for a woman. After all, she’s returning to
England in six months. There’s no way they can forge a lasting relationship, even if they
wanted to.
As a vengeful criminal resurfaces with revenge in mind and promises to harm
everyone he loves, Trey’s skills as a sniper, a brother and a lover are tested. As danger
closes around her, Olivia must find a core of strength she never knew she had, and
capture a red hot passion she never hoped to find.
Dedication
To my husband, Terry. You inspire the creation of my heroes.
Again, to Lena Robinson for her encouragement and excellent critique skills.
Acknowledgements
To Jim Adams and the gang on Weapons Info. Yahoo Group for information and
technical help on SWAT teams. Thank you for your excellent assistance. Any errors
related to police procedure and SWAT teams is entirely mine.
Chapter One
No one ever told Olivia Scott that being an assistant librarian was a hazardous
occupation. She let out a small yelp as two huge books thumped down on the library
check out counter in front of her. Chills raced up her spine when she looked into a
familiar face.
“Hey, Miss Scott.” The man smiled, as his gaze darted to her nametag.
His grin promised a pleasant encounter. She didn’t believe the promise.
Green eyes, ringed by sparse blond lashes, held a smarmy charm. He looked about as
amiable as one of her teachers in school back in England. Poker faced one minute,
obsequious the next. Though he looked to be twenty something, there was something
used up and old in his attitude.
“Mr. Cohen. How nice to see you today. Weren’t you here yesterday?”
And the day before. And the day before that. Five days in a row.
“I was.” He winked. “Found two more books I need to accomplish my goal.
Interesting there are so many law enforcement books in the library.” His expression took
on an almost petulant, indignant expression, a man unhappy with what he found. “Why
do you suppose that is? Police procedures, police tests, how to study to be a law
enforcement officer. Overkill, don’t you think?”
Is that a trick question?
She licked her dry lips, wishing she hadn’t forgotten her water bottle in the back
office. She could use a nice cold sip to drown her parched throat.
She shrugged. “Maybe they were donated by police officers who decided they didn’t
need them anymore?”
“Or by guys who didn’t pass the test and stopped trying?” Mr. Cohen’s voice held no
inflection.
She blinked, baffled at his line of conversation. His narrow face, cadaver pale,
reminded her of a man who stayed out of the sun because of a long illness.
Or a vampire.
She blinked. October was the month for Halloween and it was only early September.
“Possibly.” She smiled but he didn’t return her grin.
“Damn shame.”
His voice had a sibilant side, a hiss that emerged when he spoke too fast, which he
sometimes did. In five days he’d talked to her many times, and every time she felt
uncomfortable. Today he wore a ridiculous navy suit a bit too large through the shoulders
and too long in the sleeves. Without a tie, the suit and white button down collar shirt was
gauche.
So he’s a bit eccentric. You’ve been accused of that before. She calmed her
suspicious mind.
“Did you want to check these out, too?” she asked.
“Yeah, I think they’ll help me with my future plans.” He ran one hand through his
hair—what was left of it. His greasy, collar length tresses appeared an indeterminate
shade of blond. His hair receded back from a high forehead.
“Of course. You said you’re taking the test for the El Torro County Sheriff’s
Department, right?”
He leaned on the counter, too close for comfort. She edged back a step.
“I figure if I take the test this time, they’ll have to accept me. I’m not too old. I’m
only twenty-five.” Tall, broad shouldered, and slim-hipped, no one could deny he was in
good shape.
“Of course you will pass. Good luck with that.” She reached for the books.
His palm came down with a smack on top of the books, and she jumped. “Don’t
touch these yet.”
A tingle whispered up the back of her neck, a warning she considered ignoring but
wouldn’t. Something didn’t compute with this guy. She’d suspected the first time he’d
checked out books on Monday that Cohen’s elevator didn’t take a happy ride all the way
to the top.
This time he didn’t smile, and sweat beaded on his upper lip. How odd.
Cohen’s voice softened with menace. “You’re not going to touch these.”
He is joking, right?
Once more he leaned forward and captured her gaze. “You aren’t going to touch
these.”
“You don’t wish to check them out?”
He leaned on the counter, and Olivia’s gaze darted around the small branch library.
One old lady had disappeared into the back room to use the Internet computers. Two
other people had headed into the stacks earlier and hadn’t come out. Come to think of it,
one was a strapping, tall young man she’d noticed earlier. Her friends in England would
have drooled over the gorgeous American. Who are you kidding, Olivia? You were
drooling over him . It would be hard not to. He had that all-American look that a good
gene mix guaranteed. The quintessential rough and tumble American her friends secretly
would die to meet, even though they’d probably be outspoken in their abhorrence of his
significant testosterone and lack of refinement.
A black sweater had stretched over broad shoulders and muscular arms. Worn jeans
had curved over his body intimately but not too tight, and he wore athletic shoes.
Chocolate brown hair with red highlights had waved close to his head, not quite military
short.
Maybe if Cohen knew another strong man was in the library he wouldn’t get any
weird ideas.
She nodded at Mr. Cohen. “Whatever you prefer.”
“I don’t think you know what I want, Miss Scott.” His voice lowered, conspiratorial.
“No one does. That’s part of the problem.”
Ooookaaay.
He licked his lips, a repetitive, nervous habit she’d noticed every day he’d come
here. Now it was Friday evening.
All I want is to rent a screaming scary movie, pop my frozen pizza in the microwave,
have a glass of sangria, and enjoy the evening. She wasn’t a whiner, but she really, really
wanted to whine tonight.
Just let this be over. Let him walk out of here.
“I think you should give me what I need, Miss Scott. You’re a nice woman. I think
you’re pretty, too.”
“Me?” The word shot from her automatically.

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