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Whatever
it Takes
Trust No
One # 4
By: Dixie Lee Brown
Releasing August 12th, 2014
Avon: Impulse
Blurb
Assassin Alex Morgan will do anything to save an innocent life -
especially if it means rescuing a child from a hell like the one she
endured.
But going undercover as husband and wife, with none other than the disarmingly sexy Detective Nate Sanders, may be a little more togetherness than she can handle. She’s used to working alone, and no man is going to change that - not even a man who makes her heart pound and her defenses crumble with just a touch
Nate has dodged more than a few bullets over the years, but fighting his attraction for Alex may be the bullet that does him in. Still, Nate’s determined to help her find the missing kid. There’s no doubt in his mind that they’re walking straight into danger, but Nate’s willing to face anything if it means protecting Alex. She might have been on her own once, but Nate has one more mission: to stay by her side - forever.
But going undercover as husband and wife, with none other than the disarmingly sexy Detective Nate Sanders, may be a little more togetherness than she can handle. She’s used to working alone, and no man is going to change that - not even a man who makes her heart pound and her defenses crumble with just a touch
Nate has dodged more than a few bullets over the years, but fighting his attraction for Alex may be the bullet that does him in. Still, Nate’s determined to help her find the missing kid. There’s no doubt in his mind that they’re walking straight into danger, but Nate’s willing to face anything if it means protecting Alex. She might have been on her own once, but Nate has one more mission: to stay by her side - forever.
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Excerpt
Daniels ignored him.
Nate tensed, calculating his best chance to surprise the guy behind him and get free long enough to reach Daniels before the three hired men opened fire. Clearly, he didn’t stand a chance of coming out on top in this confrontation, but he’d be damned if he’d sit here within reach of Daniels and not do everything possible to choke the life out of him.
Nate tensed, calculating his best chance to surprise the guy behind him and get free long enough to reach Daniels before the three hired men opened fire. Clearly, he didn’t stand a chance of coming out on top in this confrontation, but he’d be damned if he’d sit here within reach of Daniels and not do everything possible to choke the life out of him.
Suddenly the door swung open, and a blast of cold air struck Nate in the face. As one, the armed men turned. The door creaked on rusty hinges, but only darkness and the rain-soaked streets were visible through the opening. “What the hell?” Daniels reached inside his suit jacket,
drew a gun, and inched toward the open door.
A shadowy blur shot across the threshold, leaped ef- fortlessly through the air in front of Daniels, and deliv- ered perfectly timed kicks with a pair of thick-soled army boots. The first swept the gun from his hand and likely broke his wrist. The second slammed into his chin and snapped his head back with a sickening crack. He spun around and dropped, out cold before he hit the floor.
The kid—the one Nate had dismissed as young and inexperienced—landed squarely on his feet, facing Dan- iels’s hit squad, and an eight-inch dagger appeared in his hand. Nate’s gaze locked on the kid’s for a second.
Dark brown eyes, flecked with gold, triggered a memory he couldn’t quite grasp. It wasn’t until the hat landed on his lap and all that long black hair fell down around her shoulders that Nate realized who’d just saved his ass.
“Alex Morgan . . .” He whispered the name as she ad- vanced on the three bodyguards.
What the hell was she doing here? The last time he’d seen Alex, she’d just wrecked his car, sliding it sideways into a building, taking out the man who had a gun pointed at Nate’s head in the process. She’d probably saved his life that day, but the damn fool woman had wrecked his ’69
Mustang. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since, and he was fairly certain it had nothing to do with the events of that day.
Shock cost Nate a couple of seconds, but the man behind him was apparently just as surprised. His grip had loosened as his boss bit the dust—had become prac- tically nonexistent when Alex morphed into a woman in front of their eyes. Nate easily jerked free, whipped around, and decked the guy.
He swung to help Alex and pulled up short. Two of the men were already down. One pressed a hand to his stomach while blood seeped through his fingers. The other was trying to hold together the edges of a vicious- looking slash that extended the length of one thigh. Nate kicked their guns away as he passed by.
The third man was on his feet, backing away, hands raised in supplication. Alex stalked him, the bloody dagger held alongside her leg. Nate’s friend and ex- partner, Ty, had warned him that she was lethal, unpredictable, and apt to respond with violent intent at the first sign of perceived danger, but Nate hadn’t really bought his story. Now that he’d seen it firsthand—it was still un- believable . . . if not for the blood everywhere.
Alex’s entire attention appeared to be focused on the man desperately scrambling away from her. Fearless and very much in control of the situation, she was an in- timidating opponent. Nate had no doubt that the man in front of her, probably seriously reconsidering his job choices at the moment, would be dead shortly if someone didn’t intervene—carefully.
“Alex. Alex?” If she heard him, she gave no indication. He caught up to her and gripped the wrist that controlled the dagger, just in case she couldn’t tell the good guys from the bad guys in whatever alternate reality she cur- rently occupied.
She frowned and tried to twist free. Confusion filled her eyes, followed swiftly by realization and dismay. He could read the effort it took for her to come back from wherever she’d been. She regarded him silently for a few seconds before she gave a nearly imperceptible nod.
Nate took the knife from her hand. “That a’ girl. Stay with me now.”
He pointed the blade at the man who was backed against the wall. “Don’t move.” He was fairly sure the guy was convinced that staying put was his best option. Circling back, Nate retrieved his gun, grabbed his cell phone, and called for backup.
Still carrying the bloody dagger, he scrutinized the tables until he found a soiled napkin. He scraped both sides of the blade on the crumpled paper and held out the weapon, hilt first, to Alex. “Tuck that away somewhere.” Had it been anyone else but her, he’d never have handed the weapon back. In this instance, though, he couldn’t think of anyone more capable of covering his back should the need arise.
A shadowy blur shot across the threshold, leaped ef- fortlessly through the air in front of Daniels, and deliv- ered perfectly timed kicks with a pair of thick-soled army boots. The first swept the gun from his hand and likely broke his wrist. The second slammed into his chin and snapped his head back with a sickening crack. He spun around and dropped, out cold before he hit the floor.
The kid—the one Nate had dismissed as young and inexperienced—landed squarely on his feet, facing Dan- iels’s hit squad, and an eight-inch dagger appeared in his hand. Nate’s gaze locked on the kid’s for a second.
Dark brown eyes, flecked with gold, triggered a memory he couldn’t quite grasp. It wasn’t until the hat landed on his lap and all that long black hair fell down around her shoulders that Nate realized who’d just saved his ass.
“Alex Morgan . . .” He whispered the name as she ad- vanced on the three bodyguards.
What the hell was she doing here? The last time he’d seen Alex, she’d just wrecked his car, sliding it sideways into a building, taking out the man who had a gun pointed at Nate’s head in the process. She’d probably saved his life that day, but the damn fool woman had wrecked his ’69
Mustang. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since, and he was fairly certain it had nothing to do with the events of that day.
Shock cost Nate a couple of seconds, but the man behind him was apparently just as surprised. His grip had loosened as his boss bit the dust—had become prac- tically nonexistent when Alex morphed into a woman in front of their eyes. Nate easily jerked free, whipped around, and decked the guy.
He swung to help Alex and pulled up short. Two of the men were already down. One pressed a hand to his stomach while blood seeped through his fingers. The other was trying to hold together the edges of a vicious- looking slash that extended the length of one thigh. Nate kicked their guns away as he passed by.
The third man was on his feet, backing away, hands raised in supplication. Alex stalked him, the bloody dagger held alongside her leg. Nate’s friend and ex- partner, Ty, had warned him that she was lethal, unpredictable, and apt to respond with violent intent at the first sign of perceived danger, but Nate hadn’t really bought his story. Now that he’d seen it firsthand—it was still un- believable . . . if not for the blood everywhere.
Alex’s entire attention appeared to be focused on the man desperately scrambling away from her. Fearless and very much in control of the situation, she was an in- timidating opponent. Nate had no doubt that the man in front of her, probably seriously reconsidering his job choices at the moment, would be dead shortly if someone didn’t intervene—carefully.
“Alex. Alex?” If she heard him, she gave no indication. He caught up to her and gripped the wrist that controlled the dagger, just in case she couldn’t tell the good guys from the bad guys in whatever alternate reality she cur- rently occupied.
She frowned and tried to twist free. Confusion filled her eyes, followed swiftly by realization and dismay. He could read the effort it took for her to come back from wherever she’d been. She regarded him silently for a few seconds before she gave a nearly imperceptible nod.
Nate took the knife from her hand. “That a’ girl. Stay with me now.”
He pointed the blade at the man who was backed against the wall. “Don’t move.” He was fairly sure the guy was convinced that staying put was his best option. Circling back, Nate retrieved his gun, grabbed his cell phone, and called for backup.
Still carrying the bloody dagger, he scrutinized the tables until he found a soiled napkin. He scraped both sides of the blade on the crumpled paper and held out the weapon, hilt first, to Alex. “Tuck that away somewhere.” Had it been anyone else but her, he’d never have handed the weapon back. In this instance, though, he couldn’t think of anyone more capable of covering his back should the need arise.
DIXIE
LEE BROWN lives and writes in Central Oregon, inspired by what she believes is
the most gorgeous scenery anywhere. She resides with two dogs and a cat, who
make sure she never takes herself too seriously. When she’s not writing, she
enjoys reading, movies, and trips to the beach.
Author Links
Twitter: https://twitter.com/DixieLeeBrown
Rafflecopter Giveaway
Print copy of another
installment in Dixie Lee Brown’s Trust No One series, IF YOU ONLY KNEW—where
you get to meet Alex and Nate for the first time!
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