Delores Fossen - Surrendering to the Sheriff

“You could have been killed.”

Her voice was strained, barely a whisper, but he heard the emotions loud and clear.

That wasn’t ordinary concern for a fellow human being. That was concern for her baby’s daddy. Maybe even for him.

It only added another layer of complications to their already complicated situation.

Kendall was pregnant with his baby. They were a Texas version of Romeo and Juliet. Star-crossed lovers. And since that story hadn’t had a happy ending, this extra layer only made him worry more.

He’d clearly developed a fondness for complicated layers. Apparently, a fondness for having Kendall in his arms, too.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“For what?”

“Everything.”

Kendall stared at him, those eyes so green that they looked like spring itself. Spring with heat, of course. Even now the heat was there.

Surrendering to the Sheriff

Delores Fossen

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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 Award, and was a finalist for a prestigious RITA ®Award. You can contact the author through her webpage at www.dfossen.net.

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Table of Contents

Cover

Introduction “You could have been killed.” Her voice was strained, barely a whisper, but he heard the emotions loud and clear. That wasn’t ordinary concern for a fellow human being. That was concern for her baby’s daddy. Maybe even for him. It only added another layer of complications to their already complicated situation. Kendall was pregnant with his baby. They were a Texas version of Romeo and Juliet. Star-crossed lovers. And since that story hadn’t had a happy ending, this extra layer only made him worry more. He’d clearly developed a fondness for complicated layers. Apparently, a fondness for having Kendall in his arms, too. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For what?” “Everything.” Kendall stared at him, those eyes so green that they looked like spring itself. Spring with heat, of course. Even now the heat was there.

Title Page Surrendering to the Sheriff Delores Fossen www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author 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 Award, and was a finalist for a prestigious RITA ® Award. You can contact the author through her webpage at www.dfossen.net .

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Sheriff Aiden Braddock shut the door behind him, tossed his truck keys on the kitchen counter.

And stopped cold.

He didn’t hear anything unusual. The whir of the A/C and fridge. The April breeze rattling the oaks outside the window over the sink. All the sounds he should be hearing, but he still got the gut feeling that something wasn’t right.

Since that gut feeling had saved his butt a time or two during his time as county sheriff, Aiden listened to it.

He drew his Glock from his holster.

Aiden didn’t move yet. He just stood there a few more moments. Listening. And then he heard the thing that didn’t belong. A whisper, maybe. Or somebody breathing. Because he lived alone, there darn sure shouldn’t be anyone else whispering or breathing in his house.

“Mom?” Aiden called out just to make sure. Though it’d been longer than a blue moon since she came out to his place. Too far in the sticks, she had always complained.

“Laine? Shelby?” Aiden added in case it was one of his sisters. Again, a serious long shot, since they rarely visited, either.

No answer. But he hadn’t expected one.

Whatever was going on, this likely wasn’t a social visit and could even involve some attempted bodily harm. After all, he was the county sheriff and had riled more than a person or two over the past decade. One of those riled people had perhaps come to settle an old score.

Aiden huffed. He was so not in the mood to bash some heads, but he might have to do just that.

“Let’s make this easy for you,” Aiden called out. “I’m a damn good shot. Plus, I’m hungry, tired and not feeling up to any idiot who’s stupid enough to break into a lawman’s house.”

“Aiden,” someone said in a hoarse whisper.

Even though the person hardly made any sound when she spoke, Aiden thought he recognized the voice.

Kendall.

But that didn’t make any sense. This was the last place on earth she’d come.

Especially after...well, just after .

Aiden didn’t lower his gun, but he inched his way toward the sound of her whisper—in his living room. It was just a few yards away past a half wall, but he kept watch all around him. Kept listening, too. Until he could move into the arched opening that divided the rooms, and he snapped his gun in the direction where he’d pinpointed Kendall’s voice.

His heart slammed against his chest.

Because it was Kendall O’Neal all right, but this definitely wasn’t a social visit. She was on her knees in the center of the floor, and there was a hulking man on each side of her. The men were wearing black ski masks, and both had automatics pointed right at her head.

“Drop the gun, Sheriff Braddock,” the bigger one on the right growled.

Aiden held on to his Glock, trying to figure out what the devil was going on here. He didn’t get many clues from Kendall. She only shook her head. Like an apology or something.

But that was pure fear in her wide eyes.

He didn’t see any signs of injury, but then most of her body that he could see was covered with a pale blue shirt, skirt and business jacket—her lawyering clothes. However, her hair was a mess, her blond locks tangled on her shoulders.

So maybe she’d been in a scuffle with these guys after all.

Kendall wasn’t the messy-hair type. Nope. All priss and polish for her and never a hair out of place. People didn’t call her the ice princess for nothing.

However, that wasn’t an ice-princess look she was giving him now.

“What do you want?” Aiden asked the men.

“Your gun on the floor.” Again, it was the one on the right who answered. No unusual accent. He was a Texan. And the nondescript dark pants and T-shirt didn’t give Aiden any clues, either.

“Do it now ,” the man added, and he jammed his gun against Kendall’s head. “Or else she’ll pay the price.”

The last thing any lawman wanted to do was surrender his weapon, but Aiden was wearing his usual backup gun in a boot holster. Maybe he’d be able to get to it in time if things turned uglier than they already were.