Justice is Coming

Justice is Coming
Delores Fossen

The armed and dangerous woman trespassing on federal marshal Declan O’Malley’s Texas ranch isn’t a killer. She’s Eden Gray, and the PI is trailing trouble and unfinished business.He’s the last person she wants to visit, but now a vengeful enemy is targeting them both. Eden’s orders were very clear: kill Declan or her sisters die. Sworn to find out who's after her and why, she’s forced to team up with the devastatingly attractive lawman.As desire flares, a decades-old secret erupts, turning everything Declan believed into a lie. Everything except the passion driving him and Eden to fight for a future they might not live to see.

“It doesn’t matter that I’m your usual type, because I’m still the wrong woman.”

“You got it.” He flashed a half smile that melted that ball of ice in her stomach. “But then, I’m the wrong man for you.” No half smile now. “And I’m pretty sure that makes this one of those irresistible situations we’re just going to have to resist. Or at least keep reminding ourselves to do it.”

Yes. She wondered, though, if a reminder would be just wasting mental energy. “I don’t want to find you attractive.” But she did. Mercy, did she. On a scale of one to ten, he was a six hundred, and even with the danger, he fired every nerve in her body.

Justice is Coming

Delores Fossen

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Imagine a family tree that includes Texas cowboys, Choctaw and Cherokee Indians, a Louisiana pirate and a Scottish rebel who battled side by side with William Wallace. With ancestors like that, it’s easy to understand why USA TODAY bestselling author and former air force captain DELORES FOSSEN feels as if she were genetically predisposed to writing romances. Along the way to fulfilling her DNA destiny, Delores married an air force top gun who just happens to be of Viking descent. With all those romantic bases covered, she doesn’t have to look too far for inspiration.

Contents

Chapter One (#uae2fe730-b767-53c1-b627-70daaf3f5e8d)

Chapter Two (#u80ac5c39-87e7-508e-86de-ee10beb97119)

Chapter Three (#u16c0289a-da1c-5f55-9b5e-a324d588d0de)

Chapter Four (#u7dbac982-6718-5e55-8d08-b7b8f491c10d)

Chapter Five (#uc9dfc427-a88d-5888-be01-cad5c589688a)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One

Marshal Declan O’Malley eased the saddle off his chestnut stallion. He tried not to make any sudden moves, and he didn’t look over his shoulder, though Declan was pretty sure someone was watching him.

That “pretty sure” became a certainty when he spotted the footprints on the partially frozen ground.

What the heck was going on?

Since he’d been a federal marshal for nearly six years, he was accustomed to having people want to do him bodily harm, but threats like that rarely came right to his doorstep.

Or rather to his barn.

Declan put the saddle on the side of the watering trough and adjusted his buckskin jacket so he could reach the Colt in his belt holster. He gave the chestnut’s rump a gentle slap, and as Declan had hoped he’d do, the stallion headed for some hay in the side corral. If there was going to be a shootout, Declan sure didn’t want his horse caught up in the gunfire.

He stepped to the side of the barn door. And waited.

Listening.

But the only thing he could hear was the bitter December wind rattling the bare trees scattered around the grounds. He didn’t mind the cold when he was on his daily ride, but he minded it a lot when he was waiting for something bad to happen.

Or maybe not bad.

He looked at the footprints again. Small. Like a woman’s. He hadn’t been in a relationship in the past three or four months, but maybe this was an old girlfriend come to visit. Still, it didn’t feel like something that simple.

Or that fun.

His house wasn’t exactly on the beaten path, not even by rural-Texas standards. He was literally on the back forty acres of his foster family’s horse-and-cattle ranch. A good ten miles from the town of Maverick Springs, and with not even a paved road leading to his place. Besides, there wasn’t much of value in his small wood-frame house to make it a target for thieves.

Declan glanced around. Kept listening. And when he was finally fed up with the cold, he drew his Colt and moved away from the barn door so he could follow those footprints. From the looks of it, the prints started at the back of his barn, and that meant somebody had probably walked in from the pasture and checked out the barn itself.

Maybe looking for him.

Or looking to make sure he’d indeed gone on his daily ride.

And then the trespasser had made her way to the back of his house. Declan went in that direction now, using the trees for cover.

Finally, he saw something.

Or rather someone.