A Billionaire's Redemption(47)

Ready to face the press?” she asked as they approached the      front doors.

Stick with me, kid. I’ll show you how to scare them off.”

True to his word, he put on a ferocious scowl that dared anyone      to get in his way and they swept past the crowd of shouting reporters without      incident. He closed her in the Escalade and guided the vehicle away from the      curb. She was surprised when he didn’t point the SUV toward anywhere that either      of them called home. In fact, he headed out toward the west side of town once      more.

Where are we going?” she asked in alarm. She had no wish to      revisit the scene of James’s death.

Gabe merely smiled enigmatically at her. “Relax. You’re gonna      like it.”

She trusted him. As they wound into the canyons, she let the      rugged beauty of the Texas landscape wash over her. It was rough country. But      tough. Like her and Gabe. They’d survived an ordeal that would have broken      someone with less courage. With less to live for.

She smiled as Gabe turned the Escalade into the scenic overlook      the local kids called Lover’s Point.

I thought for once you might like to come up here for more      than the view. Wanna make out?” he asked gruffly.

With you? Always.”

About Melinda. I was talking about you with the doctors when I      said I loved you. She misunderstood and barged out to spout all that crap about      marrying me. I’m totally over her,” he finished adamantly. “You’ve got to      believe me.”

What about that other part you told the doctors. That you were      planning to propose?”

Well. About that.” He got out of the car and came around to      open her door for her. He escorted her to the front of the car where a towering      thunderhead blocked the sun. It was backlit in shades of lavender and gray, with      a corona of sunbeams bursting outward in all directions like the promise of a      new day.

Are you sure I’m not too old for you, Willa?”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not like you’re a hundred years old,      Gabe.”

He laughed and knelt on one knee in front of her. “Then, if you      will have this old wreck, would you make me the happiest man on earth and do me      the honor of becoming my wife?”

Her heart expanded as big as the Texas sky and filled with as      many colors of joy. “Oh, yes, Gabe. I will. I definitely will.”

* * * * *

Don’t miss the next romance in the

VENGEANCE IN TEXAS      series: Carla Cassidy’s

A PROFILER’S CASE FOR       SEDUCTION,

available next month.

Keep reading for an excerpt from Colton       Showdown by Marie Ferrarella.





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Chapter 1

He wasn’t one of those people who had an obsession about cleanliness. Tate Colton had never had a problem with getting his hands—or any other part of him, for that matter—dirty, if the job required it. That kind of dirt he could put up with and ignore.

But dealing with these subhuman creatures who made their living trafficking in human flesh, in destroying young lives and thinking absolutely nothing of it, was an entirely different matter. It made him want to go back to the hotel room where he was registered under his assumed name and take a shower. A long, scalding-hot shower to wash away their stink.

Once he received the assignment from his supervisor, Hugo Villanueva, he knew that going undercover in order to find and save the Amish young women who had been kidnapped would require him to associate with, in his opinion, the absolute dregs of the earth.

Dregs in expensive suits.

You could dress a monkey up in fine clothes, but he was still a monkey, Tate thought. No amount of expensive clothing could change that, or change the fact that the people he was forced to interact with were lower than scum.

He’d think more about stepping on a beetle than he would about terminating the existence of one of these cockroaches.

To look at the man who had brought him up to this particular hotel suite—his current tour guide to this underworld—someone might have thought the man was a successful businessman or the CEO of a Fortune 500 company instead of the utterly soulless lowlife that he actually was.

Impeccably dressed in what was easily a thousand-dollar suit, his guide to this lurid world of virgins-for-sale smirked at him confidently as he opened the door leading into the suite’s bedroom.

I’m sure we can find something to pique your appetite, Mr. Conrad,” he said.

Tate scowled at the shorter man. “I said no names,” he snapped, mindful of the part he was playing in this surreal drama.

The other man laughed, enjoying what he considered to be the display of ignorance on the part of this new client.

Nothing to be worried about. What are they going to do?” he asked, gesturing at the bedroom and the young women being held there. Each and every one of them were dressed in identical long, slinky white gowns. “Post it on the internet? None of them even know what the hell the internet is,” he stressed, jeering at the young women who were virtually prisoners in this suite. “They all live in the Stone Age. Trust me.” He patted Tate’s arm and the latter shrugged him off as if he was flinging off an annoying bug—an act that wasn’t lost on the man. “Your name—and your sterling reputation—are both safe here,” he assured Tate.

C’mon, c’mon,” the man snapped at the young woman he was herding into the room for his “client’s” final review. “He hasn’t got all night. Or have you?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at Tate, a lecherous grin spread across his angular face. “You know, if you’ve changed your mind and want to make your purchase now—” He left the sentence open, looking at Tate expectantly.

I haven’t changed my mind,” Tate answered formally. The deal was that he got to see the young women in person in order for him to finalize his choice, and then the negotiations regarding the pending “purchase” would go from there.

Inside, Tate was struggling to contain his fury. The woman he’d “requested,” “Jade,” was looking at him apprehensively like a mistreated animal afraid of being beaten.

Had she been beaten?

Tate looked her over quickly. “What’s wrong with her?” he demanded, channeling his anger into the part he was playing—a man who wanted the “goods” he was considering purchasing to be perfect. He was well aware of the fact that the blue-gray eyes continued to watch his every move. Tate swung around to confront the other man. “She looks like she’s been manhandled,” he accused angrily.

The man shrugged indifferently. “Don’t worry. Nothing happened that would have left a visible mark on her.” His flat, brown eyes raked over Hannah from head to toe, as if to reassure himself that she wasn’t displaying any sign of bruising in plain sight. “That’s the one rule—other than payment up front—the boss won’t tolerate any visible marks left on the merchandise.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Tate saw Hannah flinch at the label the man had contemptuously slapped on her. Merchandise.

His anger flared.

She’s a person, not merchandise,” Tate retorted, glaring at the guard.

Hey, at the price you’re going to pay, she’s anything you want her to be. You want a person? You got it, she’s a person.” He turned to look at the redhead he’d led out of the bedroom for Ted Conrad’s perusal. “A soft, sweet-smelling person, aren’t you, honey?”

Smirking, he slid his hand along her cheek and down the side of her neck.