Pride Of A Hunter

Pride Of A Hunter
Sylvie Kurtz

TWO SCARRED HEARTSAs far as former CIA sniper Lucinda Taylor was concerned, her heart died the day she pulled the trigger that left her a widow and a single mom. Then fellow agent Dominic Skyralov came to town to hunt down a dangerous scam artist, and Luci was shocked to feel an exhilaration she hadn't felt in seven years…a feeling that made her think she and this brave, bull of a man might be more than old friends. But Dom had his own secrets about that tragic day. And now, with her family in growing danger, Luci had to decide if Dom was her last, best shot at redemption and love–or just a terrible reminder of everything she'd lost.

Dom combed his fingers through Luci’s hair and she closed her eyes against the need to lean into his touch….

“I’m as good as anyone on the team ever was,” she said, and couldn’t help the note of challenge in her voice. “I can do this.” For the first time in a long while, the stir of something waking deep inside Luci fluttered alive. She’d loved the team. She’d loved saving lives. She’d loved knowing her special skill could make a difference. Or destroy her world.

Dom’s smile canted up slowly, reaching all the way up to his eyes, making them glitter with humor that caused her to feel lighter. He slouched in that sexy way of his, compelling someone unaware of his lethal skill to believe they had nothing to fear from him. He deepened his drawl, letting its smoothness reverberate like a caress. “Then it’s a date, darlin’.”

Pride of a Hunter

Sylvie Kurtz

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

To Joyce—for the support and friendship.

A special thank-you to:

Mary Kennedy—for the forensic psychology help.

Chris Maddocks—for the sniper help.

About the Author

Flying an eight-hour solo cross-country in a Piper Arrow with only the airplane’s crackling radio and a large bag of M&M’s for company, Sylvie Kurtz realized a pilot’s life wasn’t for her. The stories zooming in and out of her mind proved more entertaining than the flight itself. Not a quitter, she finished her pilot’s course and earned her commercial license and instrument rating.

Since then, she has traded in her wings for a keyboard where she lets her imagination soar to create fictional adventures that explore the power of love and the thrill of suspense. When not writing, she enjoys the outdoors with her husband and two children, quilt-making, photography and reading whatever catches her interest.

You can write to Sylvie at P.O. Box 702, Milford, NH 03055. And visit her Web site at www.sylviekurtz.com.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Lucinda Walden Taylor—All the sniper-turned-soccer-mom wanted was a quiet life for her and her son.

Dominic Skyralov—The Seeker knew Luci’s deepest secrets.

Cole Taylor—Luci’s husband; Dom’s best friend. He was dead, but the memory of his death festered guilt in both Luci and Dom.

Brendan Taylor—The son Cole never knew existed and Luci desperately wanted to protect from a life of violence.

Warren Swanson—His goal was to expunge the sins of the soiled.

Laynie McDaniels—She was the first to die for her sins.

Jill Walden Courville—Luci’s sister was Warren’s latest pigeon.

Jeff Courville—The geeky boy reminded Warren of himself.

Joe Bob Grigsby—The escaped felon chose to kill rather than surrender.

Amber Fitzgerald—The fitness instructor softened the prey.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Prologue

In the hours between three and five in the morning, life slowed to a crawl. Her body’s need for sleep had Lucinda Walden fighting to keep her eyes open. She pulled her eye off-scope to blink out the fatigue, then resettled her right shoulder over the rubber butt pad of her rifle. Eye on-scope again, she panned left to right, across the door and windows of the two-story shack in the middle of nowhere in North Texas, checking for activity.

Her job was simple—be ready to kill, but avoid shooting at all cost. Discipline. Control. Restraint.

Sweltering heat, even so early on this August morning, had sweat streaming down her sides, sticking every stitch of camouflage clothing to her skin. Fog, graying everything in its path and rising in tongues off the pond beside the house, gave the run-down place the look of hell.

“Sierra One to TOC,” Luci whispered into the mic resting against her jaw to the Tactical Operations Center. The hostage taker couldn’t hear her, but he was so close in her scope that it seemed as if he should. “I have subject movement. White alpha three.” Back side of the house, first floor, third window. “White male, five foot ten, one hundred and sixty pounds, dark hair and beard. Bare torso, low-slung jeans. Two pistols stuffed down his pants. One rifle cruising for a target. He has the kid on his hip.” Their subject looked like a desperado in a really bad Western.