Delores Fossen - Confiscated Conception

Never held in her arms. Never even seen. And yet he was already there in her heart. A son. Rachel slowly let that sink in.

She had a child, and Esterman’s people might hurt him before they could find him.

“I’d given up hope of ever having a baby,” she admitted. She ran her fingers over the child’s picture. “Especially when you refused to let me use the embryos after we separated.”

“Yes.”

That was it. The sum total of Jared’s response. But Rachel didn’t hold it against him. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to respond, either. Most couples had nine months to build up to a moment like this. Nine months of hope, planning and dreams. Their dream was one big nightmare.

“We have to find him….”

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Imagine a family tree that includes Texas cowboys, Choctaw and Cherokee Indians, a Louisiana pirate and a Scottish rebel who battled side by side with William Wallace. With ancestors like that, it’s easy to understand why Texas author and former air force captain Delores Fossen feels as if she was genetically predisposed to writing romances. Along the way to fulfilling her DNA destiny, Delores married an air force Top Gun who just happens to be of Viking descent. With all those romantic bases covered, she doesn’t have to look too far for inspiration.

Lieutenant Jared Dillard—Even though he still cares for his soon-to-be ex-wife, Rachel, he believes she’s out of his life for good—until he receives word that someone stole the fertilized embryo they stored years ago. Now there’s a child—their child—and the baby will die if Jared and Rachel don’t work together to find him.

Rachel Dillard—She’s been in protective custody for over a year, and just hours before she’s supposed to testify against her dirty dealing boss, she learns that she has a newborn son. If she doesn’t testify, a killer will go free, but if she takes the stand, her child will die.

Clarence Esterman—Rachel’s former boss would do anything to stop her from testifying against him.

Sergeant Colby Meredith—Is he a cop on the take with orders from Esterman to assassinate Jared?

Lyle Brewer—Clarence Esterman’s lawyer. He’s possibly Esterman’s silent partner and the one who has Rachel and Jared’s baby.

Donald Livingston—Is this prison warden the mastermind behind Esterman’s plan to stop Rachel from testifying, or is he simply a pawn in a dangerous game?

To my brother, Mike, and his wife, Ann Marie

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

Jared heard the footsteps a split second before the man aimed a semiautomatic at his head.

“Don’t move,” the officer ordered. He stepped around the side of the ranch house and approached Jared as if he were a cobra ready to strike. In a way, he was.

With the thick envelope still clutched in his hand, Jared lifted his arms in a show of surrender. “I’m Lieutenant Dillard, San Antonio PD. I believe you’re expecting me?”

“It’s all right, Smitty,” a woman called out from inside the house. “He’s Rachel’s husband. I recognize him.” The door opened, and Detective Miller, the dark-haired officer on the other side, motioned for Jared to enter.

“Lieutenant Dillard,” she greeted. “I wish you were here under different circumstances.”

The officer glanced at the envelope, and from the somber expression on her thin face it was clear that she thought it contained the divorce papers that Jared had mentioned on the phone.

It didn’t.

But it would have been far better if it had.

Jared stepped inside and made a mental note of the weapons that were neatly arranged in a rack next to the door. Side arms and rifles for backup. Extra magazines of ammunition. Ditto for the two Texas Rangers posted at the checkpoint at the end of the road. They were armed to the hilt.

Maybe the four peace officers wouldn’t try to use those weapons against him before this visit was over.

He glanced around the sparsely furnished place and spotted Rachel right away. She was in the adjoining room that had been converted to a gym of sorts. She was barefoot. Her shoulder-length dark blond hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail. She wore a pair of loose gray boxers and a red sleeveless T-shirt.

Oh, man.

She looked good. It’d been months since Jared had last seen her and well over a year since he’d had her in his bed. But even after all that time and after everything that had gone on between them, the thought of making love to Rachel still set his blood on fire.

He had too-vivid memories of her naked body slick with perspiration. The feel of her firm breasts beneath his hands. The scent of her arousal mixed with his. The heat of her mouth. The eagerness of her touch.

Which obviously wouldn’t be so eager now.

Jared watched as she pounded her fists and then her forearms into the punching bag. The blows weren’t random but part of a workout routine. Shaolin boxing. And from the looks of things, she wasn’t a beginner.

“Hello, Jared. You’re early. I didn’t expect you for another hour.” Rachel spared him a cool glance with those intense jungle-green eyes before she peeled off her scarred boxing gloves. She picked up a bottle of water from a weight bench, took her time drinking it and then strolled to the window.

Ah, the ice princess act. Her favorite. He recognized it immediately. It probably fooled her bodyguards, but it sure as hell didn’t fool him. She was riled by his visit.

Interesting.

“When did you take up Shaolin boxing?” he asked, walking toward her.

Rachel wiped the perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand. “About a year ago.”

Of course. It made sense. After all, there was a reason she was in protective custody. This was probably her way of dealing with the constant fear and stress from Clarence Esterman’s death threats.

“You’re good at it.”

She shrugged. “Well, if I’m ever accosted by a punching bag in a dark alley, I’ll be able to hold my own.” The comment might have been lighthearted, but that lightheartedness didn’t quite make it to her voice. She flexed her eyebrows, a mild indication that the chitchat was over. “Let me get a pen so I can sign those papers.”

So much for breaking the ice. This obviously wasn’t an ice-breaking sort of moment. Unfortunately, he had to proceed anyway.

Jared went to her, slipped his arm around her waist. Before she could protest their bodily contact—or use one of those Shaolin boxing moves on him—he upped the ante. He crushed his mouth to hers.

The kiss was, well, interesting, too. Even though it was supposed to be all for show, it sent a jolt of pure heat through him. Too bad he couldn’t say the same for Rachel. If she felt any heat, it was likely from temper and not passion. She shoved her forearm against his abs and jerked away. Jared didn’t let her get too far.

“Play along,” he whispered against her ear. He slipped the thick envelope into the inside pocket of his jacket. “It’s important.”

No cool dismissive glance from her this time. Rachel’s scalpel-sharp gaze sliced him, her eyes asking a lot of tough questions. Questions he couldn’t begin to answer in front of the other officers.