Keeping our borders safe...
While investigating border violence in Ciudad JuΓ‘rez,
Mexico, Denver journalist Natalie Benoit is caught in a
bloody ambush and taken captive. Alone in the hands of
ruthless
killers, she will need every ounce of courage she possesses
to survive.
Betrayed by another operative, Chief Deputy U.S. Marshal
Zach McBride has endured
a week of torture and interrogation at the hands of a
bloodthirsty Mexican drug cartel.
Ready to give his life if he must, he remains unbrokenβuntil
he hears the cries of an
American woman.
Although Natalie is only a voice in the darkness of their
shared prison, her plight brings
renewed strength to Zachβs battered body. With her help, he
overpowers their captors,
and they flee through the desert toward the border, the
attraction between them flaring
hotter than the Sonoran sun.
But past loss and tragedy leave both of them reluctant to
follow their hearts, even
when the passion between them reaches its breaking point.
Faced with feelings neither
expected, they fight to stay ahead of the danger that hunts
them as forces more powerful
than they can imagine conspire to destroy them bothβ¦
Excerpt Natalie took a sip of coffee, studying Zach over the top of
her porcelain cup as he devoured what was left of his
breakfast. Most of the time when she interviewed someone,
she had a good sense of whether that person was telling her
the truth. Today, however, her intuition seemed to be
taking a vacation.
Maybe the stakes were too high this time. Maybe she was too
caught up in her own emotions and too close to the
situation to focus clearly. Or maybe Zach was just harder
to read than most people.
If only he would put on a shirt!
It wasnβt right for any man to be so dangerous and so sexy
at the same time. Her adrenal glands and her ovaries were
locked in a shouting match now, the former insisting she
needed to run away fast, the latter wishing heβd kiss her
again.
And thatβs why you need to think with your brain.
She set her cup down. βHow did you get shot? Iβve seen the
scar.β
βA man aimed an AK-47 at my back and fired.β He shoveled
the last bite of hash browns into his mouth and chewed.
Okay, so he wasnβt going to answer that one.
βWhatβs your last name?β
He set down his fork and napkin. βSmith. No, Jones. No,
wait β itβs Black. I like that better. Zach Black. It
rhymes.β
He wasnβt going to answer that one either.
βIf you didnβt steal the cocaine, Zach Black, why didnβt
you just tell me that right away? Why let me believe youβre
some kind of criminal if youβre not?β
βI was afraid youβd start asking a lot of questions, like
you always do, and we both had more important things to
deal with.β His plate clean, he reached for his coffee,
then leaned back in his chair, his long legs stretched out
in front of him, his pants riding low enough on his hips to
expose a trail of dark hair that disappeared behind his
zipper. βBesides, itβs not like you were going to
say, βPlease leave me with the Zetas.ββ
He took a sip.
βWhy did the Zetas think youβd stolen the drugs if you
didnβt?β
He seemed to think about this, as if deciding whether or
not to answer. βThe person I believe stole the shipment
drugged me, then handed me over to them and told them Iβd
stolen it, making me the scapegoat for her actions.β
A woman? βShe drugged you?β
He nodded. βShe called, asked me to meet her at a bar in
JuΓ‘rez, and the next thing I knew, I was a guest in Hotel
Zeta.β
Hotel Zeta?
More like Hell on Earth.
Natalie couldnβt fathom how he could make light about his
captivity after what heβd been through. βDidnβt she care
what they would do to you?β
βI guess she cared more about money.β He took another sip.
βThatβs terrible.β
Proof of how much heβd suffered was still visible on his
bodyβfrom the dark purple bruise on his ribcage to the
faint pink electrical burns on his chest and belly to the
gauze bandages on his raw, blistered wrists. If what heβd
said was true, this person had turned him over to the
Zetas, knowing full well he would be tortured and killed.
How could any woman be so heartless?
The next question that popped out of Natalieβs mouth was
not the one sheβd been about to ask. βWas she your lover?β
How incredibly rude! Thatβs none of your business, girl!
Zach didnβt answer right away, his lips curving in a
smile. βNow why, oh, why would you ask me that, Ms. Benoit?β
βNo reason.β She felt herself blush. βJust curious.β
βAh, I see.β He set his coffee cup down on the tray, the
amused expression on his face telling her that he did seeβ
right through her. βNo, she wasnβt my loverβthough not for
lack of trying on her part.β
So Zach didnβt sleep with every woman who threw herself at
him. That was good to hear. βAre you married?β
He shook his head. βNo.β
Natalie couldnβt seem to stop herself. βDivorced?β
βNo!β
βGay?β
He came face to face with her in one smooth motion, so
close that she could see flecks of gold in the gray of his
irises, the spicy-clean scent of his skin filling her
lungs. βOh, angel, I think you know the answer to that one,
but if you need proofβ¦ β
A big hand slid into her hair, cradling the back of her
skull, angling her face upward. Pulse tripping, she found
herself looking into his eyes, wondering if he would was
really going to do it, if he was really going to kiss her.
And then he didkiss her.
Slowly.
He brushed his lips over hers, the mere whisper of a touch
sending shudders through her, making her breath catch. Then
he slipped his other arm around her and drew her against
his bare chest, the hard feel of his body making her go
weak. But still he didnβt kiss her full on, teasing her
mouth with his, nipping her lips, tracing their outline
with his tongue, until her lips tingled and ached and she
was trembling.
She shouldnβt let him do this. Zach was a dangerous man, a
killer. She knew next to nothing about him, not even his
last name. All she had was his promise that he wasnβt a
criminal. But it had been so long since a man had touched
her, so long since sheβd wanted a man to touch her.
She slid her arms around his neck, arched into him,
desperate for more.
He groaned, and the hand in her hair became a fist. And in
a heartbeat the kiss transformed, his lips pressing hard
and hot against hers, his tongue thrusting deep.
Oh, my stars!
Heat lanced through her, striking deep in her belly. With a
whimper, she kissed him back, welcoming his tongue with her
own, breathing in the male scent of him, her insides going
liquid as his hand moved slowly down her spine.
Start Reading BREAKING POINT Now
 I-Team EXTREME EXPOSURE
#1.0
β’ August 2005
 HARD EVIDENCE
#2.0
β’ October 2006
 UNLAWFUL CONTACT
#3.0
β’ April 2008
 NAKED EDGE
#4.0
β’ March 2010
 BREAKING POINT
#5.0
β’ May 2011
 FIRST STRIKE
#5.9
β’ November 2013
 STRIKING DISTANCE
#6.0
β’ November 2013
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