C.J. Miller - Shielding the Suspect

C.J. Miller weaves a story of deception and framing that will keep you guessing....

She woke up on her ex-fiancé’s boat with his blood on her hands. Is it possible that Susan Prescott killed Justin and didn’t remember it? When the artist is accused of murder, the only one who will believe and protect her is Brady Truman. Brady, her former lover. Brady, who must dispel his agonizing self-doubts if he hopes to help anyone else....

To find the real killer—and the hitmen gunning for them—Susan and Brady have to deal with their still-simmering desire. It all hinges on Susan’s memory. Will returning to the boat trigger her recall…or plunge her deeper into danger?

Brady read worry and fear in Susan’s expression as they stood outside the café with their heads bent together.

He touched her cheek lightly, wanting to reassure her. “We’ll be okay. Every day that passes is a day closer to finding the truth. We’re making progress.”

Susan tapped her foot against the sidewalk. “I’m glad you feel confident about this. I feel like we’re walking into a trap. The police are looking for us. Special Forces military men are looking for us. Justin’s killer is still at large.” She let the rest of her breath out in a whoosh and held her head in her hands.

Brady ached to draw her into his arms, to offer some comfort. More than emotional comfort, he was aware of his body hardening at the image of her pressed against him.

He’d made love with her less than twelve hours ago, and he was ready for more.

Dear Reader,

I believe that lost love can be reclaimed. In this book, Brady Truman believes he’s done the right thing in giving Susan the chance to live her life without him. His job is too dangerous and takes him away from home too often. When a terrible injury ends his career, Brady has plenty of time for regrets. His biggest regret is letting go of Susan, and when she needs him, in typical Truman brother style, Brady goes to her aid.

Susan has tried to move on with her life, but Brady isn’t an easy man to forget. He shows up again when she most needs someone in her corner. Time has given them a new perspective on what’s important. They’ve never really gotten over each other and they’re forced to confront those lingering feelings. Forgiving and forgetting is a tall order, especially when it comes to matters of the heart. But happiness is never out of reach, not when love is still in play.

Happy reading!

C.J. Miller

Shielding the Suspect

C.J. Miller

www.millsandboon.co.uk

C.J. MILLER

is a third-generation Harlequin reader and the first in her family to write professionally. She lives in Maryland with her husband and young son. She enjoys spending time with family, meeting friends for coffee, reading and traveling to warm beaches around the world. C.J. believes in first loves, second chances and happily-ever-after.

C.J. loves to hear from readers and can be contacted through her website at www.cj-miller.com.

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To Jacob, my real-life love at first sight.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

Excerpt

Prologue

Brady Truman’s life wasn’t as he’d planned. It was far, far worse. He shifted some of his weight to his bum knee, stifling a wince as pain shot up and down his leg. He gritted his teeth and took another step. More pain. It had been this way for two months. Two months of therapy, rehabilitation, surgeries and medical procedures as the doctors saved his leg from amputation and tried to restore function. Brady didn’t want to walk with a cane for the rest of his life.

Then again, he didn’t want a lot of things and choices had been taken away when an enemy had shot him.

He didn’t want to live with the disfiguring scars on his leg and the weakness in his knee. The surgeons had done everything they could. They said he was lucky that they had been able to save his leg.

Lucky. Sure. It was the last word he’d use to describe his current state.

The physical rehab was difficult, but he hated the psychotherapy more. Too much digging around his psyche about events that didn’t matter and trying to make a mountain out of a bump in the road. Brady avoided bumps. He didn’t stop and scrutinize them.

Adjusting to life outside the military would be difficult. He’d seen friends try it and fail, returning to the military because they needed the structure and discipline.

For Brady, returning to the military wasn’t an option. He couldn’t return to his former position with the Special Forces. His injury guaranteed he would never be stealthy and athletic enough and he couldn’t expect his team to trust him again after his colossal screw-up. A pararescueman needed to be strong, nimble and responsive. Brady didn’t credit himself with any of those traits. Not anymore. Brady let out a grunt of pain when his knee collided with the side of the hospital bed.

His balance was off, like everything in his life.

A tap at the door. He’d gotten accustomed to doctors, nurses and specialists coming and going, and he didn’t know why they bothered knocking. Brady had no illusions of privacy in the hospital.

“Come in,” he said, hiding signs of his discomfort and displeasure. It was one thing to harbor resentment and anger. It was another to act like a pansy and complain about his circumstances. Bad enough he was feeling weak, but worse to have others think it.

Brady didn’t want any more drugs forced on him and the more perfect a patient he was, the sooner he could be discharged. He wanted to go home. Staying in this hospital was making him crazy. He hated being caged in with nothing to do except exercise his leg and think. Too often his thoughts turned to the past and the mistakes that had led him to this point.

It wasn’t a doctor or nurse who entered the room. Instead, a familiar and unwanted face from the past.

“Justin,” Brady said, unpleasantly surprised to see his old pal from the air force walk into his room. The circumstances kept getting worse.

He and Justin had hung out occasionally with a mutual friend back when they’d both been enlisted, but they hadn’t spoken in more than a year and Brady was fine with that. He had nothing to say to the man who had betrayed him. They’d formed a competitive relationship from their early days in the military, but Justin’s relationship with Susan had taken things from competitive to combative.

“Brady Truman, I never thought I’d see the day you had to walk with a cane.”

Brady didn’t smile or take the bait and reply with a smart retort. He should tell Justin to get out of his room, but he didn’t want to give the man the satisfaction of knowing his words had cut deep.

“It won’t be for long,” Brady said. He’d been walking around his room for close to twenty minutes, near his upper threshold for endurance. He wasn’t admitting his leg was ready to collapse and he needed to sit. Not in front of Justin Ambrose.

“I heard you spoke to Susan the other day,” Justin said.