Uncategorized

Dangerous Protector by Milly Taiden

Title: Dangerous Protector
Series: Federal Paranormal Unit 2
Author: Milly Taiden
Tour Organizer: N K Author Services

image

Dangerous Protector
Federal Paranormal Unit 2
If you run from love, you’re asking for a
chase…
James Brock lived the past ten years
without the woman he loves. Using his
job as head of the Federal Paranormal
Unit to help others, he’s done a good job
of ignoring his lack of a personal life until
she returns. His salvation. His first love.
Cynthia Vega had a very good reason to
leave the only man she loved after she’d
accepted his marriage proposal. Now
she’s back as his boss. And he’s not
willing to ignore their chemistry or the
past.
Brock is determined to claim his mate and
prove that their passion is even hotter
than before. He wants her and her
explanation behind their separation.
Except, some secrets won’t stay buried in
the past. Brock will fight his demons to
follow her lead, but Cynthia’s reluctance
to explain their lost love may be the one
key to their destruction…

BUY LINKS
Amazon : http://amzn.to/1rDaP66
B&N : http://bit.ly/1nEPlbr
ARe: http://bit.ly/PQpCxY
Add Dangerous Protector to your GR
TBR Pile!
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21881163-dangerous-protector
Book Trailer – Check out this
sexiness!
http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=2-DOI1VvQd4&ctp=CAIQpDAYACITCPbrkfbdur4CFU8AGAodnRMAMFITZGFuZ2Vyb3VzIHByb3RlY3Rvcg%3D%3D&client=mv-google≷=NG&hl=en&guid=

Excerpt
Dangerous Protector
© Milly Taiden, Latin Goddess Press 2014
Chapter One
Sirens blared. One after another the
police cruisers and fire department
vehicles sped by in a rush. A honk
sounded from behind James Brock’s SUV.
He glanced over his shoulder.
“This moron is trying to cause an
accident,” Tony Ramirez, one of the
Federal Paranormal Unit team members,
yelled at the rearview mirror.
Brock glanced over his shoulder. A black
Sedan tailed close behind them. Too
close.
Ramirez gripped the wheel so hard his
tanned knuckles turned white. “I’m
already doing eighty.”
“Tony, let them by.”
There was something big going on. He
curled his hands into fists in his lap. He
knew what it was. They all knew.
“Where do you think they’re all going,
Brock?” The concern in Jane Donovan’s
voice momentarily choked him. Her soft
lilt reminded him of his mother’s voice.
At first appearance, you’d think Donovan
was a weak woman, but make her angry,
and you’d have hell to pay.
Tension turned palpable with its own
heartbeat in the fast-moving SUV.
“I can take a wild guess.”
They made a sharp corner on a bend into
a dirt road. The SUV skidded on its wheels
for a second. Everyone held on while they
bounced in their seats.
“Jesus H. Christ, Ramirez! Can you not to
get us killed before we get there,”
Donovan growled.
“Sorry, cariño, but there is no time to be
worried about your delightful ass
bouncing on the seat when we have to
find a missing kid.”
“I told you to stop calling me darling!”
“Ramirez…” Brock sighed.
Their constant bickering wasn’t unusual,
so he ignored it and focused on the scene
ahead. Multiple police cars parked outside
the house he’d called the local PD on.
The house he knew had the latest missing
person they had been searching for.
“Oh, God!” Fear laced Donovan’s whisper.
They were thinking the same thing. That
whoever kidnapped little Kyler Jones had
killed her. That his request for the county
to get to the house in question had been
too late. His gaze roamed the area
through the darkness of the early
evening. Multitudes of tall willows
surrounded the large house set in the
middle of nowhere. Perfect. If he’d been
looking for a place to do some of the
things the person in that house was
known for, this was the right spot. There
wasn’t a body around for miles. Nobody
to get help. Nobody to hear the screams.
Ramirez hadn’t fully stopped when Brock
jumped out of the SUV, his feet hitting
the ground with a thump. Immediate
perspiration gathered on his upper lip.
The humidity from August had brought
intense heat. Though it was closing in on
nighttime, the air sizzled with the high
temperature from earlier.
He ran for the SWAT van. Instinct told
him they’d know more than the local
sheriff’s department. Radios beeped.
Concern expanded in his chest. Everyone
seemed to want an update on the
situation. He recognized one of the FBI
department heads—Martin Galvez—
standing off to the side of the SWAT van.
The older man stopped mid-sentence to
give him one of his degrading piercing
glares. “Brock. What are you doing here?”
Command oozed from his Latin accent.
Brock glanced from Galvez to the other
two lower ranked agents. Took both men
all of a second to move away. That
allowed him and Galvez to talk.
“This is our case. We found Kyler Jones
through intense searching of phone
records and—”
“Save it,” Galvez cut him off. He turned
away from Brock to study the area.
“How are you going to retrieve the child?
Do we know if she’s alive?” Brock tried to
tamp down the surge of power dancing
through his veins. It wasn’t usually
difficult to do. He’d mastered his
darkness. But Galvez had a tendency of
pushing his anger. The older man’s
attitude lit a fire in his stomach.
Galvez smirked. “We have a man who
went in through the back.”
Gathered men and women avidly stared
at the house. Watching. Waiting. Brock
knew there were no guarantees of getting
the child out alive. They all knew that.
It’s what made his job that much harder.
Power swirled at his fingertips. He need
only know what to do, and he could end
the entire thing in a matter of seconds.
“Do you need me to—”
“What I need, is for you to keep
yourselves out of the way,” Galvez
ordered.
Anger licked at his skin, growing at the
speed of a derailed train. He shot a
glance at Galvez. For a split second,
Galvez paled.
“I’d watch how you talk to people,
Galvez,” Brock said, no longer caring that
his voice sounded hard. Steely. Deadly.
An explosion rocked the ground. He
jerked his gaze to the house. Flames
consumed the structure. Screams and
shouts filled the night. Men moved in all
directions toward the house, but gunfire
blasted through the shouts. Brock’s
muscles tightened.
“Can we do anything?” Donovan yelled
over the sirens and shouts. She ran a
hand over her mussed up ponytail. Her
fingers shook. He saw the desperate
need to help in her eyes. It went against
her nature not to.
Brock shook his head. “We wait.”
The thought of doing nothing didn’t
appeal to him either. In fact, it was hell
to hold back and not run into the house
and get the kid himself. His power
shoved outward. Pushing to get out. To
take control.
“Finally!” Galvez sighed.
Brock’s vision followed Galvez’s line of
sight until he saw a woman running out
through the flames with a bundle covered
in a dripping blanket.
Breaths thundered in his ears. Everything
narrowed until the only thing he saw was
her . He couldn’t believe his eyes. Was
his mind playing a trick on him? After all
these years? But no, it wasn’t a trick. She
was soaking wet as she ran from the
burning house toward them. Paramedics
surrounded her and took the covered
bundle from her arms. She was gasping
for air, coughing through the smoke she’d
inhaled before she finally glanced up and
met his gaze.
He didn’t know how long he’d been
standing there, watching everything like a
spectator versus an active participant. The
beast inside him roared. After all the
years they’d been apart, after she’d left
him for no apparent reason, she was
back. He watched her march toward him.
Her dark gaze slid from him to Galvez.
In the background, firemen fought the
burning house. Sirens continued to blare.
Loud. Driving the point that chaos had
ensued around them. But he couldn’t find
it in him to care. His sole focus was on
the woman he’d loved. Hard. The woman
who’d left him.
Cynthia Vega.
“Vega.” Galvez’s tone was clipped. “What
took you so long?”
Her brows dipped low, eyes flashing. “Get
over it. I got the child out alive. That was
my main concern. I did what was needed.
If it took all night…” She shrugged. “It
would have taken all night.”
The black T-shirt soaked and plastered to
her brown skin, showing off the curves
Brock had always loved. Curves he’d
kissed, licked, and bit in the heat of
passion.
Brock’s hands itched to grab her. Power
surged inside him. Dark. Deadly. It
swarmed his veins and expanded through
his limbs in a wave of heat. A haze of red
clouded his vision.
Cynthia met his gaze. Her perfectly
arched brows rose. “Brock.”
He took a deep breath. Inhaled the soft
scent of Jasmine she loved to wear. Fear
seeped from her pores, mingling with the
sweet Jasmine scent. But this wasn’t the
time or place to discuss their past.
“Vega.”
Pain flashed through her eyes for a
millisecond before she went back to the
detached professional. But he’d seen it.
Knew that she’d heard the anger in the
way he’d softly growled her name. She
folded her arms over her chest.
Defensive. He’d gotten to know each of
her quirks. This was her I’m-not-at-fault
move.
“We don’t need you here, Brock.”
Galvez’s voice broke through the tension
between him and Cynthia.
He eyed the older man. Saw the curious
way he glanced back and forth between
them.
“As you can see, we have it under
control. You and your—” Galvez’s gaze slid
over Brock’s shoulder to where Donovan
and Ramirez stood behind him. “Team can
go. The child’s safe.”
He wanted to argue with Galvez, but it
wasn’t his fault Cynthia had messed with
his concentration.
Cynthia swallowed hard. Indecision
skated her features. He gave her a slow
once-over before turning on his heel to
face Donovan and Ramirez. “Let’s go.”
“But—”
“The child’s safe, Donovan. That’s what
we came for.”
Confusion sparked in the depths of her
eyes. “Are you sure she’s okay?”
“I wouldn’t leave otherwise.”
That was the absolute truth. All his team
members knew it. He’d never leave a
crime scene unless the victim was safe or
— in a worst-case scenario he was much
too familiar with—dead. While his gift
was seen as a dark destructive force, he
preferred to use it for the safe return of
those victims he could help find.
Donovan gave a quick nod. He marched
past her toward the SUV, leaving her and
Ramirez to follow.
“Relax, babe. If he says the kid’s okay,
then the kid’s okay,” Ramirez whispered
at Brock’s back.
“Will you please stop calling me babe?”
Donovan hissed.
“Brock!” The sound of Cyn’s yell reached
him just as he was about to hop into the
passenger side of his vehicle.
He stopped. The frustration he was
tamping down surged all over again. She
reached him a moment later, still panting
from the run out of the burning house.
“I just want to say…thank you.” Her gaze
dropped down to his mouth. Lust bubbled
up inside him. At her slow lick of her lips,
he had to grit his teeth to stop himself
from hauling her to him. To taste her. “I
know your team found the child.” She
met his gaze. Desire sparkled in the
depths of her hazel eyes. “I appreciate
it.”
The beast he never allowed control
roared inside, demanding a taste of her
lips. Ah, those lips. She had the full
luscious bow shaped lips that he knew
were soft, decadent, and fit perfectly
against his. Her lips, along with every
abundant curve on her sexy body, had
been his downfall.
“You don’t need to thank me. This is our
job.”
“I know I don’t need to thank you. But
you and your team…” She glanced over
his shoulder into the SUV. Ramirez and
Donovan were actively studying them
with interest. “You got her and called for
help before anything could happen. You
saved this child.”
He gripped the door handle. “No. We
found her. You saved her.”
“James…”
The hairs on his arms rose. Something
unlocked inside him. Her husky voice,
pitched with that sexy Latin accent, was
like a punch to the gut. It was low, so low
over the still blaring sirens, over the
shouts from the firefighters, if he hadn’t
had enhanced hearing, he’d never have
heard it. None of that mattered. To hear
her say his name so softly instantly
brought back memories of another time,
another place. A time when they’d done
much more than mere talking. She
shifted. His attention was drawn to her
chest. The material of her top plastered
to her body, showing off her full breasts.
Ignore it.
He pushed the unwanted memories and
feelings back. “You got the kid, Vega.
That’s what matters.”
Hurt clouded her eyes. Should he care
that she’d been hurt because he called
her by her last name? No. He couldn’t
care. She’d left him and never returned.
Until now. Those emotions weren’t part
of him any longer.
“Brock—”
He turned his back on her. He’d never
done it before, but he did it now.
Dammit, he hadn’t expected it to be so
hard. He hopped into the SUV. Shut the
door. And shut her out. Fuck. It filled his
chest with a dull pain to leave her there
with that gratefulness shining in her eyes.
But he refused to glance out the window
once he was in his seat. Instead, he
turned to Ramirez and saw the questions
in his team member’s eyes and ignored
them.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Cynthia watched the red tail lights from
the black SUV shrink with the distance.
Drops crawled down her arms. It was
soothing to have the coolness from the
water beat away the heat from the
summer. Plus, just seeing James again
really knocked her axis off center.
“Anything you want to tell me?” The
question came across as a demand for
information.
She turned to the sound of Galvez’s
voice. Short cropped, salt-pepper hair,
perfectly coiffed showed off his wrinkled
forehead and deep-set dark eyes. A thin
mustache covered the pursed line of his
lips. For an older man, he wasn’t hard on
the eyes. Well, not for women who liked
the know-it-all types, anyway.
Unfortunately, for him, Cyn wasn’t the
least bit impressed by him.
“We’re on a need to know basis here,
Galvez.” She wrung the water out of her
ponytail and headed for her car.
“Obviously there’s something I need to
know about the relationship between you
and Brock.” He barked the words over
the shouts, following her toward her
black, rusty Camry.
She stopped, whirled in place, and shook
her head. Was the man growing
delusional with his position? “Hang on a
second here. You recruited me . You
requested my expertise for the team.
You wanted me to help lead the FPU. My
past with Brock or anyone else has no
bearing on my ability to do the job.”
“You know you’ll be working close to
him.”
“And?” Anger simmered inside her.
Galvez’s nostrils flared. Disgust lit his
eyes. Figures. He had never been the
type for warm and cuddly conversations.
And the last thing Cynthia expected was
for him to encourage employee
relationships. “He isn’t normal. He’s…
He’s—”
“I know exactly what he is. If I were you,
I’d be very careful what you say about
him.” She snapped her mouth shut to
keep from adding anything that could, and
would get her fired. Dammit, she’d just
started the job.
She yanked on the handle to her car. The
metal creaked as it opened. Galvez placed
a hand on the top of the door, stopping
her from moving it further.
“Look, Cici—”
“Don’t!” She hissed. “Only my family calls
me that. You’re my superior. Don’t get it
confused. My accepting your job offer
doesn’t make us friends. It doesn’t make
us buddies. It just makes me your
employee.”
“I’d like to think of us as more than just
employer-employee. Possibly move
things to where they should be between
us.” His facial lines smoothed out. There
was concern in his eyes for a flash of a
second. Then an iciness entered his gaze
as she shook her head.
“I don’t think so. All we’ll ever be is co-
workers. Don’t confuse yourself.” She
met Galvez’s stare with her own angry
glare. He should know by now that
intimidation wouldn’t work on her. Being
raised by her grandmother, because her
father had been missing in action, had
toughened her up. Especially when her
mother was more trouble than she
wanted to think about. When her family’s
reality finally hit her, some hard choices
had to be made. And the result had been
losing the only man she’d loved.
Galvez’s brow puckered. “If you can’t
handle working with Brock, for whatever
reason, just tell me. I won’t hold it
against you.”
Yeah, she just bet he wouldn’t. He’d
recruited her as a test. To see her fail.
She knew what he was after, but she
wouldn’t give it to him. He’d come to
her. Right now, she had the upper hand.
An upper hand she wasn’t willing to lose.
Her gaze strayed past Galvez to the
ambulance where the child was taken. A
paramedic shut the doors. It took off,
sirens wailing. The thickness she’d felt
growing at her throat expanded. Fuck.
She had to hold it together or Galvez
would see her as nothing more than a
weakling.
“What happened to the suspect?”
His question brought her attention to his
face.
“When I entered the house from the
back, he was in the kitchen.” She gulped
at the memory of the man, of what he’d
been doing.
“And?”
She ground her teeth. “And he was
sharpening some large butcher knives,
happily singing a song about making stew.
Kyler stew. There. Are you happy?”
Galvez’s unwavering gaze was stuck on
her face. She tried not to flinch, knowing
that any sign of discomfort would be seen
as a weakness. She inhaled slowly,
mentally preparing herself for the torture
of reviewing what just happened.
“He’d already started a fire in the
kitchen. Stood there sharpening those
knives. All the while, the flames spread
through the place.” Her stomach
clenched. Oxygen had frozen in her lungs
when she’d seen the man light himself on
fire when he’d seen her. “He walked to
the blaze taking up one side of the
kitchen. And just stood there. Burning.”
She still had a hard time believing what
she’d seen. The maniac had continued to
sing while he burned. That song. She’d
have a hard time sleeping remembering
the stupid song. It had made cold fingers
of dread crawl up her spine.
“And the kid?”
She took a breath. Let it out slowly. “She
was tied up to a tub filled with water. The
entire house started to collapse around
me. By the time I reached her most of it
was on fire.” She gripped the door
handle. Although it bothered her to have
to go through what just happened, she
knew it was procedure. Plus, she’d have
to write it out on her report anyway. “I
ran to the other room, grabbed a blanket,
cut her binds, wet myself, shoved the
blanket into the tub, wrapped it around
her and got her out.” She swallowed hard
against the dryness in her throat. “End of
story.”
Thoughts kept whirling around her mind
of all the possible things she could have
found in that house. None of them good.
She needed to go home. Right now. She
was too raw. The throbbing in her chest,
since she’d first laid eyes on the child,
hadn’t dissipated yet. Too many emotions
were clogging up her throat. Seeing that
little girl tied up was like getting stabbed
in the gut. Absolute hell. Kyler’s pale
green eyes had been filled with fear.
Watching the drenched six-year-old
shaking, her lips turning purple from the
icy water almost broke her. Jesus. But
this was her job. She was damn good at it
and no amount of stress on a case—or
her pathetic excuse of a personal life—
was going to make her give it up.
“Are you sure you’ll be fine working with
Brock and his team?” Galvez asked. There
was annoyance in the way he asked the
question. Not concern. Never concern.
That simply added to her rising temper.
She was tired. Tired of having to be the
responsible one in her family. Of giving
up everything she’d ever wanted. And she
was especially tired of Galvez and his
condescension. “Did you want me to
promise that in blood or something?” His
dark skin turned mottled with anger. Too
bad. “I already said I’m fine. Now let me
go home and let me do my job. I can
handle Brock. And his team.”
Galvez stepped away, giving her space to
slide into the car. He continued to watch
her. Her muscles felt tight from the
tension of the past hour. The engine’s
roar was music to her ears. Galvez
dropped down to eye level. Fuck. She
thought he was done.
“I won’t have you or him messing with
the plans I have in the Bureau.”
She bit the inside of her cheek hard, until
she swore she tasted blood. Then she
counted to ten before finally answering
him.
“I know what it is you want.” She’d been
informed he was gunning for a high-
ranking position. “I don’t really care
about it. That’s your problem.” She
gripped the wheel, staring into his angry
dark gaze. “But I think you should know,
that you won’t ever be allowed to lead
the FPU. It’s why they made you hire
me.” She smiled coldly. “You see, you
need to be paranormal to lead that team.
It’s why I’m reporting to the head of the
Bureau directly.”
“I don’t care what you think you know. I
want to make sure that you are able to
handle this. I’ll have the group reporting
to me at some point,” he growled.
She shook her head. “No. You won’t. I
know you’ve tried. You can’t lead a
special team.” She shifted gears, put the
car in reverse, and hit the accelerator.
Tires squealed. Galvez rushed off in order
to not be run over. She stopped, turned
the wheel and put it in drive. “You know
why you can’t lead a special team,
Galvez?”
He stood there motionless. Watching her.
His face clear of all emotions but the
usual anger she’d come to know well.
“Because you’re not special.”

image

image

SIGN UP FOR MY NEWSLETTER FOR A
CHANCE TO WIN A $50 GC EVERY
MONTH!
here: http://mad.ly/signups/87477/join
Hi! I’m Milly (AKA April Angel) I love
to write sexy stories. They’re usually
either paranormal or contemporary
with a large dose of heat. My
paranormal stories can be anything
from wolf-shifters (my favorites) to
witches, demons and anything in
between. I was born the prettiest part
of the Caribbean known as the
Dominican Republic. Currently, I live
in New York City with my hubby, the
bossy kiddo and our little dog “Needy
Speedy”. Don’t ask.
When I’m not working some really
long hours at the day job, or hanging
out in the awful life-sucking invention
known as Facebook, messaging my
bestie in the UK or shopping with my
sis Julie, then I can be found watching
scary movies. Buuut when I’m not
doing that, I’m usually writing because
the voices won’t shut up.
I am addicted to shoe shopping,
chocolate (but who isn’t, right?) and
Dunkin’ Donuts coffee.
Come by and visit me! I love to meet
new readers!
Website: millytaiden.com
Facebook: facebook.com/millytaidenpage
Rafflecopter Giveaway

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s