Virna DePaul: Texas Stakeout

New York Times bestselling author Virna DePaul thrills with this story of a killer in waiting and a brother in hiding. Could they be the same person?

Dylan Rooney is out of his element. A U.S. marshal and city-wrangler at heart, he must adopt a new cover—and a new client—in the heart of Texas. The assignment: protect Rachel Kincaid, a widow with a young son who realizes her struggles are just beginning when her ranch hand is killed. Posing as the new ranch hand, Dylan quickly learns that catching a killer may not be so simple—especially when Rachel’s fugitive brother is the prime suspect. And when the woman he’s vowed to protect is the same woman he’s falling in love with.

Her chin rose, and slowly, so did her gaze, until she made visual contact.

She cleared her throat, the sound delicate yet deliberate, then spoke. “Like you said, we’re attracted to each other. I thought my reaction to you was a fluke. But this…”

“But this was real,” he finished for her. “No aberration. No fluke.” He knew not to press her, but rather to let her draw out her own conclusions.

She shook her head, sending her hair flowing in the gentle evening breeze. “I want you and you want me.”

He wove his fingers under her hair and stroked the soft skin covering the back of her neck with the pads of his thumb. “That’s a truth I would never deny. But my job. Your brother. Our feelings complicate things, Rachel.”

“I know.” She took a step back, breaking their contact, and blew out a sharp breath. “So while this was fun…” She waved her hands in the air, as if gesturing to their momentary lapse of judgment.

“So while this was fun, it’s over now,” he said firmly.

“Exactly.”

Yeah, they could both wish that were the case. But he knew in his bones it simply wasn’t true.

Dear Reader,

The last few books I’ve written for the Mills & Boon Romantic Suspense line have involved heroes in law enforcement, and this one is no different. Dylan Rooney is a U.S. marshal who is tracking down a fugitive in Texas—a place very different from where he grew up in California. That’s just one of the reasons Dylan feels thrown off balance throughout the book.

The other big reason is Rachel Kincaid, the heroine, who just happens to be the sister of the man Dylan is hunting. Rachel is a strong, independent single mother who believes deeply in her brother’s goodness, so when Dylan shows up accusing him of murder, it’s natural for Rachel to view him as the enemy. Then the real enemies show up.

As Rachel is forced to rely on Dylan for protection, the more she begins to like and respect him, and this includes his dedication to upholding the U.S. Marshals motto: Justice, Integrity, Service. Throughout the story, Rachel and Dylan face a similar dilemma: how to reconcile one’s duty with feelings of desire and love that seem to conflict with that duty.

I hope you enjoy their story as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Wishing you much love and happiness always,

Virna DePaul

Texas Stakeout

Virna DePaul

www.millsandboon.co.uk

VIRNA DEPAUL

was an English major in college and, despite a passion for Shakespeare, Broadway musicals and romance novels, somehow ended up with a law degree. For ten years, she was a criminal prosecutor for the state of California. Now she’s thrilled to be writing stories about complex individuals (fully human or not) who are willing to overcome incredible odds for love. She can be found on Twitter at @virnadepaulor at virnadepaul.com.

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For James. I miss you!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

U.S. Marshal Dylan Rooney was on a stakeout. Only in the hill country of Texas a stakeout didn’t mean sitting in an unmarked sedan, drinking coffee and eating donuts. Nope. A Texas stakeout meant sitting on the back of a horse. And Dylan, who was a mediocre rider at best, had drawn the short straw in more ways than one. As a marshal, it wasn’t uncommon for him to work away from his home base in California. It was, however, uncommon for him to be this bored. And this sore.

He much preferred traveling by plane, train or automobile—the faster and sleeker the mode of transportation, the better—than relying on a four-legged best from hell.

While two other marshals from Dylan’s five-member team, and several other marshals from various states, scoured the country for Jackson Kincaid, a prisoner who’d recently escaped transport in California, Dylan was on his third day in Nowhere, Texas, binoculars trained on the ranch owned by Jackson Kincaid’s sister, Rachel. Besides the sheer boredom of it all, it wouldn’t have been a bad assignment, but he hadn’t counted on his damn horse having anxiety issues. Ginger, the horse he’d rented from an adjacent farm, wouldn’t stop dancing in the red Texas dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust in Dylan’s face.

It would be the height of stupidity for Kincaid to run here, especially given that it was where he was first taken into custody, but it still had to be covered. Dylan and his team would do whatever it took to apprehend Kincaid, even if it meant endless hours of watching Kincaid’s ten-year-old nephew popping soda cans off fence posts with a BB gun.

The kid wasn’t a half-bad shot, Dylan thought just as his mother came into view. Dylan sat up higher on the horse and pressed the binoculars tighter to his face, watching as she made the long hike up the western fence line and across the field to where her kid stood, BB gun at his side. Just as it had when he’d first seen her picture—hell, every time he’d caught a glimpse of her in the past few days—Dylan’s pulse accelerated. Rachel Kincaid was nothing like the sophisticated women Dylan normally dated, but she was hands-down gorgeous. Willowy and tall, she had a dark Texas tan and dark eyes that clashed with the vibrant near white of her blond hair. She worked hard—too hard—and there was no doubt she loved her son, Peter, to distraction.

Too bad she had lousy taste in men, her brother and deceased husband included. Her husband’s alcohol problem and subsequent drunk driving accident had left Rachel a widow.

And her brother?

He’d taken everything his sister had sacrificed for him and flushed it down the toilet the minute he’d agreed to transport drugs across state lines.

Now Rachel was basically running the ranch by herself. She had some help, but not much.

Earlier, the woman had been conferring with her only ranch hand—records listed him as Josiah Pemberly, age sixty-three—down at the natural spring. Though Dylan hadn’t been able to hear their conversation, it had appeared pleasant, with both parties smiling a lot. Now that Rachel had reached her son, the conversation going on between them seemed far from pleasant. As Rachel spoke, the child stood motionless, his back to her. Frowning, Rachel lifted a hand as if to reach out to the boy, then stopped. Shaking her head, she wheeled around and strode quickly back to the ranch house, her entire posture stiff with frustration.