Dani Sinclair - Police Protector

“Preparing to kiss you.”

“You have to prepare?”

Lucan’s low chuckle sent waves of passion flowing through her blood.

“To do it right.”

His hand closed around her back. He drew her in slowly, giving her time to change her mind.

As if.

He crushed her against the hardness of his body and took possession of her mouth. She was moaning deep in her throat as she mashed herself against him, trying to get closer. She ran her hands over his back, tangling in the softness of his still damp hair. She could feel the hard thrust of him as their bodies sought a closeness barred by clothing.

He pulled her head gently against his shoulder, stroking her hair then cupping the back of her head. “I don’t want to hurt you and I’m losing control.”

His voice was rough, thick with need. She smiled against his sweatshirt and lifted her face. “You won’t hurt me. You would never hurt me.”

For my mother, Ruth Ann, who shares much in common

with Maureen O’Shay, including a deep love of family.

And for Roger, Chip, Dan and Barb as always

An avid reader, Dani Sinclair didn’t discover romance novels until her mother loaned her one when she’d come for a visit. Dani’s been hooked on the genre ever since, but she didn’t take up writing seriously until her two sons were grown. With the premiere of Mystery Baby for Harlequin Intrigue in 1996, Dani’s kept her computer busy ever since. She’s a two-time RITA ®Award finalist, for Better Watch Out in 1998 and Midnight Prince in 2008. Dani lives outside Washington, D.C., a place she’s found to be a great source for both intrigue and humor!

You can write to her in care of the Harlequin Reader Service.

Cast of Characters

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

Lucan O’Shay—The detective has been working overtime to catch a gang of thieves. Now he has to find a kid who’s running around with hundred dollar bills in his backpack.

Kyra Wolfstead—She knew something was wrong at her sister’s, but she never expected to drive into town and find her eight-year-old nephew being arrested on the street.

Kip Bowman—The eight-year-old has his younger siblings, Brian and Maggie, to protect. He intends to do just that, no matter what.

Casey Fillmont—Kyra’s older sister is missing and her house has been ransacked. Her new husband, Jordan, and her ex are missing, as well.

Jordan Fillmont—Everyone claims to like the personable man who worked in the pro shop at the Oak Forest Country Club. So where is he?

Milt Bowman—Casey’s ex-husband is a nice guy…until he starts drinking.

Louis Ventner—The general manager at Oak Forest Country Club is concerned about his missing employee.

Ralph Montgomery—Ventner’s assistant doesn’t like all the police attention the club is generating.

Bobby Krinegolt—The country club’s gofer sees everything that goes on.

Maureen O’Shay—Lucan’s mother is happy to take three children and their aunt under her wing.

Simon Testier—Kyra’s ex-boyfriend won’t take no for an answer.

Christmas carols played on the overhead speakers as Lucan O’Shay stepped to one side of the drink dispenser. He watched a young boy move down the aisle of the local convenience store. No one in the busy store paid any attention to the dark-haired boy with the green backpack.

The kid couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years old, and he looked as if he hadn’t bathed or changed his clothes in days. His jeans were of good quality, but stained and rumpled. It appeared as if he’d slept in his winter coat, and his hair and skin were badly in need of soap and water. He was thin, though not overly skinny. In fact there was nothing remarkable about the boy except for the furtive way his eyes darted about the area around him, as if he were afraid.

Lucan tensed as the boy picked up a bag of cookies, a box of cereal and a jar of peanut butter. All disappeared into the backpack at his feet so smoothly that even watching him, Lucan had to blink. The kid moved on, effortlessly adding a small container of milk and a bag of potato chips and carefully selecting three chocolate Santas and a box of candy canes.

Stealing? But the manager had said—

Before Lucan could shift position, the boy was in line at the register behind a sweaty construction worker. He was careful not to meet anyone’s eyes. Lucan waited to see what the boy would do. Behind the counter, Salman’s gaze met Lucan’s. The manager inclined his head as the boy very carefully pulled each item from his backpack and set it on the counter.

Salman was outgoing and friendly with all his customers, but his efforts to make conversation with the boy netted him only a shake of the kid’s head or a shrug. The boy wouldn’t look at him.

“No bag.” His voice betrayed his nerves, as did the way he shifted from foot to foot. Obviously, he wanted to pay and leave as quickly as possible.

Salman returned each item to the backpack. Even though he’d told Lucan what to expect, Lucan’s jaw dropped as the boy pulled out what appeared to be an amazing wad of bills from the deep pocket of his coat. He peeled off a one-hundred-dollar bill from the top and handed it to the clerk with a grubby hand.

The boy shoved the change into his backpack without counting it. He sealed the pack with a speed and economy of motion that was impressive. Hefting the pack, he looked up and met Lucan’s gaze. Wary eyes filled with panic. He dashed for the door.

Lucan swore under his breath and began to move. Being a plainclothes police detective, he wasn’t wearing a uniform. He shouldn’t have spooked the kid. And now he was impeded by the people and shelves still between them. The boy took full advantage. By the time Lucan reached the main door, the boy was disappearing around the back of the building.

Lucan sprinted after him. “Hey, wait up a minute!”

The boy never paused. He was through a narrow hole in the crumbling stockade fence behind the building in seconds. Lucan eyed the fence and hesitated. The missing boards were wide enough for the child, but not for him. The remaining fence would never support his weight.

His own house was only a few blocks over, and being a runner, Lucan knew the neighborhood well. Yet despite his speed and longer legs, there was no sign of the boy when Lucan reached the street behind the store. The row of brand-new townhouses gave way to the original development where Lucan’s home was located.

The boy couldn’t have gone far. Lucan began searching the area but there was no sign of him. If the boy had gone into one of the houses, there was nothing to tell him which one. A cold wind whipped over his face as he searched the yards. He was certain the boy had ducked in somewhere nearby. Only when a middle-aged woman holding a cell phone stepped out onto her deck demanding to know what he was doing in her yard messing with her Christmas lights did Lucan concede defeat. Flashing his police badge, he apologized for disturbing her and asked about the boy he’d been pursing.