Crossing the Line

By Alison Packard

Sloane Westbrook is passionate about the law, and when she signs on to fight crime as the new Assistant District Attorney in Piedmont, Pennsylvania, she fearlessly takes on the prosecution of an evil, serial rapist. But her continued encounters with powerful, sexy Jared Hunter bring a different kind of danger. Jared is the known associate of a local crime boss, which makes her attraction to him tantamount to career suicide…so why can't she stop thinking about him?

Jared Hunter owes his life to the crime boss who took him in when tragedy struck, and his family turned their backs. Jared's loyalty led him to the role of trusted confidant and security expert, which means he's in way too deep to back out now. Even for a beautiful, intelligent, bundle of curves like the new ADA. But every encounter with Sloane makes him want her more—and when they're snowbound together by a freak storm, his resistance shatters. How will he walk away?

Locked in a secret, fiery affair, both Sloane and Jared long for the life they could have together in the light. But to get there, can Jared break free of the darkness surrounding him? And can Sloane find the courage to make a decision that will either free them both, or shatter their lives forever?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alison Packard
• Release date: Dec 12, 2016
• ISBN: 9780986355127

Alison Packard

Originally from the San Francisco Bay Area, Alison now lives in Southern Nevada with her adorable rescue dog, Bailey. She writes heartwarming contemporary romance with a dash of spice, and loves chocolate, reading and taking Bailey for walks in their favorite park. For more info and to sign up for her newsletter visit: http://alisonpackard.com/

Book preview

Chapter 1

Sloane Westbrook tamped down her nerves and stared at the county’s official seal affixed to the wall behind her new boss’s desk. First day jitters were to be expected, but she was confident that by the end of the day, after she’d met the staff and settled into her new office, she’d be fine. More than fine, actually. She couldn’t wait to get started.

Welcome to the madhouse, Peter Evans said with a boyish grin as he closed the file on his desk. Behind the round wire-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, his brown eyes glinted with amusement. I hope by the end of the week you won’t regret your decision to join my team.

There’s no chance of that, Sloane said with a smile.

Before we get started, would you like some coffee? he asked as he pushed back from his desk and stood.

Normally, yes. But I’ve already had two cups.

Only two? Peter picked up a mug proclaiming him the ‘World’s Best Dad,’ moved to the low credenza to the right of his desk, and poured himself a cup of coffee from the half-empty pot sitting on a burner. This is my fourth cup this morning.

Sloane took the opportunity to survey the room. Unlike her former boss’s office in Pittsburgh, there was nothing over-the-top or ostentatious about Peter’s space. Framed college and law degrees hung on the wall behind his desk, along with a few pictures of Peter posing with individuals whom she presumed were prominent officials and leaders of the community.

Returning to his desk, Peter sat, then leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee. To start with, I’d like to give you some case files to research and determine if we have enough evidence to go forward with charges. Due to budget constraints, we’ve been understaffed for some time, and as you can imagine, the amount of backlog is incredible. You’ll have your work cut out for you.

Sloane schooled her expression as she nodded. Although disappointed, she was fully aware she wouldn’t get a shot at a big case just yet. As the newest hire in the District Attorney’s office, she would have to earn the respect of Peter and her peers before being assigned anything high profile. To that end, she wasn’t about to ruffle the feathers of the other ADAs by acting like a demanding diva.

I’m ready to dig right in, Sloane said just as the intercom on Peter’s desk phone buzzed.

He leaned forward and pressed a button. Yes, Jennie?

The PPD called. They have Jared Hunter in for questioning. You said you wanted to be notified.

Thanks. Please let them know I’m coming over. He hit the com line again and shot her an apologetic smile. I’m sorry, but I’ll have to cut this short. I need to get over to the police department.

No problem, she said. I can wait, or if you’d prefer I can get started on those case files you mentioned.

He regarded her thoughtfully for a few seconds, then set his mug on the desk and rose from his chair. I have a better idea. Why don’t you come with me? You need to know the players in this town, both good and bad.

Sloane’s pulse accelerated sharply. Anyone familiar with the Masters crime organization knew the name Jared Hunter. It was rumored that Hunter was Anthony Masters’ second-in-command and wielded a great deal of power. Suppressing her excitement, she stood and buttoned the jacket of her favorite pale pink suit. I’d like that. Thank you, she said, and then together they left his office.

I’m familiar with Anthony Masters, she said a few minutes later as they waited for the elevator. I understand Jared Hunter is one of his high-level associates.

Yes. We’ve brought both of them in many times but we’ve never been able to get a conviction.

Why is that?

Well, for starters, Masters retains one of the best attorneys in the state. The elevator chimed, then the doors slid open. You’ve heard of Damon Howard?

She grimaced. Oh yes, I’ve heard of him.

They stepped into the elevator and Peter hit the button for the first floor. I detect a trace of contempt in your voice.

I have a hard time respecting attorneys who represent mobsters. Sloane preferred working on the behalf of victims, not perpetrators. She’d seen too many guilty people get away with their crimes to summon up much sympathy for known criminals who managed to slip through the fingers of Lady Justice.

Everyone is entitled to a defense. The elevator doors slid open. And everyone is presumed innocent until proven guilty, Peter added as they stepped into the lobby.

Sloane shot him a wry smile. And someone has to defend the accused. Trust me. I get it. But it doesn’t mean I have to like it.

Peter’s bark of laughter echoed off the lobby walls. I think you’re going to fit right in at the DA’s office.

After a short trek across the street to Piedmont’s main police precinct, Sloane accompanied Peter into a large squad room bustling with uniformed officers and other law enforcement personnel. She followed her boss until he stopped to talk with a weary looking man of about forty, who wore a shield on his belt and a gun strapped to his hip.

While Peter and the man spoke, Sloane surveyed the room. Like most detective divisions she’d visited, the desks were set up in groups of two and facing each other. From her experience, most detectives worked in pairs; the desk arrangement made it easier for partners to work their cases together.

Not far from where Peter stood, Sloane’s gaze fell upon a man sitting in one of the chairs next to an empty desk. His back was to her and she couldn’t see his face, but she could only assume it was Jared Hunter. Her assumption proved to be correct when Peter moved to stand beside him, and then addressed him.

Mr. Hunter, thank you for coming in. We have some questions about the explosion at Pier 9 last night. Peter’s tone was polite, but the friendly demeanor he’d displayed with her was long gone.

Jared Hunter turned his head toward Peter. From her position, Sloane took note of his chiseled-in-granite profile, neatly trimmed caramel-brown hair, and broad muscular shoulders showcased by the black T-shirt he wore, and quickly revised the mental picture she’d formed in her head of Anthony Masters’ trusted henchman. For whatever reason, she’d expected an older man, not one close to her own age.

Hunter remained silent. He and Peter stared at each other for several moments before Jared broke eye contact and looked away. You know the drill, Evans. I don’t talk to the cops without my attorney. The tone of his voice indicated minor annoyance rather than anger. Another surprise. Sloane took a step forward, itching to get a better look at him.

"We’re not charging you with anything. We’re just looking for information…since the warehouse is owned by your boss. You don’t seem all that interested in helping us find the perpetrators. Why is that? Peter’s patient tone didn’t garner a response. Jared Hunter said nothing further and Peter let out an exasperated sigh, then turned to Sloane. This is his usual routine. Get used to it."

Hunter half-turned in the chair to check out who Peter was speaking to and Sloane quickly stifled an astonished gasp. Not only was Jared Hunter younger than she’d expected, he was devastatingly handsome. Not in a pretty-boy-that-uses-a-mirror-more-than-a-woman way, but in a rugged-and-wielding-a-hammer-while-he-built-a-house sort of way. His brilliant blue eyes assessed her for several seconds and to her chagrin, she grew warm under his intense scrutiny. His gaze raked over her body before he turned away, coolly dismissing her. She shook off her annoyance; the man was a low-life criminal for heaven’s sake. She shouldn’t give a damn what he thought of her. Good, bad, or indifferent.

Evans, unless you’re pressing charges against my client, I suggest you release him immediately.

Sloane turned to find a handsome African-American man standing behind her. She recognized Damon Howard immediately. He’d been all over the Philadelphia news two years ago defending a professional athlete accused of domestic battery.

This is an informal inquiry regarding an incident at the pier last night. Nothing more.

Damon Howard’s dark brown eyes flickered with irritation. My client has no knowledge of that incident or who caused it.

Where have I heard that before? Peter didn’t bother to veil his sarcasm.

Charge him or release him.

Peter waved a dismissive hand. Fine. He can go.

Jared stood and—wouldn’t you know it—in addition to being drop-dead gorgeous, he was also tall. Six-two or thereabouts, Sloane judged easily since she was on the taller side herself. Without another glance at Peter, Hunter moved toward the exit, but then halted directly in front of her. Overwhelmed by the sheer force of his presence, she had to fight the urge to step back and put some space between them. Trying to ignore her unexpected reaction, she met his piercing gaze with a steely one of her own until something she couldn’t define gleamed in his eyes. Just as quickly, his expression became shuttered and he stepped around her and strode out of the room without a backward glance.

Damon didn’t appear to find Hunter’s actions rude. Maybe he was used to it. He scowled at Peter. How many times do I have to say this? If you don’t stop this incessant harassment of my client, I’ll file a lawsuit against both you and the PPD.

Peter inclined his head. Duly noted.

Damon shot an inquiring glance toward Sloane. I don’t believe we’ve met.

This is Sloane Westbrook, Peter said. My newest ADA. Sloane, this is Damon Howard.

Ah. Another do-gooder out to rid Piedmont of its criminal element, Damon said with a hint of disdain in his voice as he extended his hand. Good luck with that.

Thank you, but luck has nothing to do with it, Sloane replied as they briefly shook hands.

Damon’s eyes widened slightly, as if surprised by her reply. Maybe you can convince your boss to stop this harassment.

He was just trying to get information, Mr. Howard.

Trying to get information is one thing, but the continual harassment of my client is another.

I hardly think a few questions constitute harassment.

A muscle twitched in Damon’s jaw. You’re new here so I’ll cut you some slack. But you need to know that I will not tolerate anyone who violates my client’s civil rights.

I’ll keep it in mind.

He seemed taken aback by her low key response. You do that.

After Damon left the squad room, Peter turned to her. So, what did you think of Jared Hunter?

He’s not what I expected, Sloane said, but didn’t add that he was also the most attractive man she’d laid eyes on in months. Somehow she didn’t think Peter would be pleased to know she found Jared Hunter compelling. But compelling or not, it was her job to put him, and men like him, in prison. She’d learned early in her career that even the handsomest of men could have the most evil of intentions, and to that end she never let anyone’s appearance affect the way she handled a case.

Underneath that quiet demeanor is a cold and calculating man, Sloane. Please remember that.

Peter’s ominous warning and somber expression sent a shiver up her spine. Still, when Jared Hunter had looked into her eyes she’d seen something in them besides coldness, and curiosity made her wonder what it was. There was one thing she did know, and that was whatever he’d thought of her, it wasn’t much. Those blue eyes of his had dismissed her as if she was utterly insignificant, and for reasons she chose not to examine further, it irritated the hell out of her.

Don’t worry, Sloane assured him. I won’t forget.

• • •

Jared Hunter slammed the front door of his high-rise condo behind him. He tossed his keys on the table in the entryway then strode directly to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. After grabbing an ice-cold beer, he kicked the door shut with his foot.

Jesus fucking Christ. He was damn tired of being dragged into the PPD for every little thing that happened in Piedmont, and he was even more tired of Peter Evans. The dogged district attorney was a major pain in the ass and had been ever since he’d been elected. Evans had prevailed in a tight election the year before after proclaiming he would be tougher on crime than his opponent. So far, he’d kept his promise.

Jared twisted the cap off the bottle, then moved to the sink and took a long pull of his beer as he stared out the window at the river below. On the drive home, irritation at the DA had superseded his curiosity about the beautiful brunette he’d seen at the police station. But now he couldn’t help but wonder about her. She was obviously associated with Evans, but he had no clue in what capacity.

What he did know was that she was smoking hot. The understated business suit she wore couldn’t hide her voluptuous curves, nor could the modest length of her skirt conceal her pair of killer legs. Some men would consider her on the heavy side, but he wasn’t most men. A woman’s body was supposed to be soft and plush. He’d fucked his fair share of women and didn’t discriminate, but more often than not, the women he was most attracted to didn’t wear a single-digit dress size.

In addition to her amazing body, the mystery woman had pulled her hair up into a loose bun. She may have thought it professional, but in truth it was sexier than hell. He’d have given his left nut to pull the pins from her hair and watch as it spilled around her shoulders. A spike of heat shot straight to his groin. Shit. He was becoming aroused just thinking about her.

Every instinct inside of him told him she was trouble—the kind of trouble he didn’t need. He had a job to do. There was no time to become sidetracked by a gorgeous woman with soulful dark eyes and a body he could worship for days.

A persistent chime penetrated his consciousness and it took him a few seconds to realize it was his doorbell. Great. Now the damn woman was causing him to fucking daydream. Irritated with her and himself, he set the bottle on the granite countertop and left the kitchen.

He wasn’t surprised to find Damon Howard on his doorstep. After the incident at the PPD, Jared had expected him. Once he and his attorney were seated on the leather couch in the living room, Jared thanked him for—once again—dropping whatever he was doing to referee another go-around with Peter Evans.

That’s what you pay me for, Damon replied in his usual no-nonsense manner. It’s my understanding that the device was placed in a dumpster outside the premises so there’s no proof that the warehouse was the target. I doubt they’ll question you on this particular incident again.

Jared let out an incredulous snort. Maybe not. But the next time someone’s cat is missing or their newspaper gets stolen, I’ll be right back down there.

Damon picked at a piece of lint from the sleeve of his expensive suit jacket. Jared had never seen Damon dressed in anything other than an impeccably cut suit. Did the man even own a pair of jeans? Or a T-shirt?

They’ll never leave you alone. They think they can get to Tony through you. You know that.

Yeah, I know it. But it still pisses me off.

Just don’t lose your temper. Play it cool.

Don’t I always?

Yes, Ice Man, Damon replied with unvarnished amusement.

Made of ice wasn’t exactly how Jared would describe himself when it came to his reaction to the mystery brunette. Which reminded him… Who was the woman with Evans?

Sloane Westbrook. I got the introduction after you left. Damon let out an appreciative whistle. Talk about a knockout.

What’s her connection to the DA?

She works for him. She’s his newest assistant district attorney.

Jared hid his disappointment. He should have known she’d be associated with law enforcement. While she didn’t wear a uniform, her sole reason for existing was to help the cops send his ass to prison. And because of that, she was dangerous. I want you to find out everything you can about her. Have one of your private investigators do a complete background check. Find out if there’s anything unusual or possibly damaging in her past.

Do you anticipate having to use the information if it exists?

It depends. If she’s ambitious and eager to make a name for herself, then taking down Tony’s organization is the perfect way to accomplish that goal.

If Jared was being honest, potential leverage wasn’t the only reason for ordering a background investigation on the new ADA. Sloane Westbrook had piqued his interest in more ways than one. And although her affiliation with the district attorney’s office rendered her strictly off-limits, he had an overwhelming need to know everything about her. I’d like the report by the end of the week.

That won’t be a problem. Damon leveled him with a direct gaze. Do you have any information on what happened at the pier?

No. Other than the fact that we were damn lucky our guys had left for the night and no one was hurt.

It appears that Evans doesn’t know about the other incidents. With the explosion last night, this is the third time that one of Tony’s buildings has been targeted in the past two months. Two arson attacks and now an explosion. I don’t think that’s a coincidence. Do you?

No. And neither does Tony. Jared ran his hand through his hair. He’s on my ass about it. And I don’t blame him. This is serious.

Damon arched a brow in his direction. Do you have a theory?

We’ve been operating at those locations for several years without any problems. It’s no secret that Tony’s way of doing things isn’t popular with the Caruso brothers. They may be trying to undermine him so they can take control without any pushback from the old man.

But how do they know where to strike? They haven’t been privy to that information since Tony took over the organization.

My guess? They have someone on the inside feeding them information.

Who’d be stupid enough to do that? Damon asked, his expression incredulous.

Jared shook his head. I don’t know, but I plan to find out.

After he and Damon had finished their discussion and Jared was alone, he placed a call from one of his burner phones. Cyril Foster answered on the first ring.

What’s up, boss?

Have you finished your investigation? Jared rose from the couch and moved to the window. His view of the Delaware River was one of the reasons he’d purchased the condo, but today its calm blue-gray surface didn’t bring him any peace. Until he discovered who was behind the attacks and the explosion there was no way he could relax.

Not yet. But I can tell you right now that the guys I’ve checked out so far have come back completely clean. There’ve been no unusual deposits to their bank accounts and no recent large cash purchases.

What about the surveillance on Vincent and Dominic Caruso?

Taken care of. I’ll have photos and possibly audio for you soon.

I appreciate you moving so quickly on this.

No problem. Cyril paused. You’re the reason I’m still breathing. I’ll do what I can to help you figure it out.

Jared had no doubt about that. Cyril, or Cy as he preferred to be called, was the best at what he did. Thanks, man. I’ll be in touch.

A cabin cruiser skimming along the surface of the river caught his attention. He watched it until it disappeared from sight, leaving a ripple of waves in its wake. Unbidden, his thoughts returned to Sloane Westbrook. Under normal circumstances he would have done everything in his power to get her into his bed, but her profession made her the enemy and he had to remember that. If he didn’t, he could very well end up in a prison cell for the rest of his life.

Chapter 2

The Sunday after her second week working at the DA’s office, Sloane pulled her car into a parking space outside the main entrance of the Piedmont Mall and turned off the engine. According to her co-workers, the mall was the best place to shop in Piedmont, and while shopping wasn’t her favorite activity, she needed to pick up a few things for her new home.

Just as she got out of her car, a loud thump followed by a string of colorful curse words caught Sloane’s attention. Turning in the direction of the voice, she saw a pregnant woman standing a few yards away, glowering at several shopping bags strewn on the asphalt in front of her.

Do you need some help? Sloane asked, moving in the woman’s direction.

The woman’s annoyed expression brightened. With her free hand, she brushed back her shoulder-length, honey-blonde hair, then rested her hand on her expansive belly. Yes. Thank you so much. I can’t bend over like I used to.

Sloane chuckled as she bent down to pick up the shopping bags. I can imagine. How far along are you?

Eight and a half months. She pointed to a silver Mercedes sedan parked near Sloane’s car. I almost made it, she said with a wry smile.

After Sloane helped the woman stow her shopping bags in the trunk of the Mercedes, she smiled and returned her keys. There you go. You’re all set to head home.

Oh, I’m not done, she said with a delighted laugh.

Sloane’s mouth gaped. Aren’t you tired?

No, I’m on a roll. I can’t stop now. Her green eyes sparkled with merriment. All of that was for the baby. Now I want to go buy something for my husband. He’s been so wonderful. Oh, I’m Emma by the way. Emma Lancaster. Emma held out her hand.

Sloane Westbrook, Sloane replied as they shook hands.

Well, Sloane Westbrook, can I thank you for your help by treating you to coffee? I can’t drink it at the moment, but I could go for a smoothie.

Since she wasn’t in a big hurry and Emma was so likeable, Sloane nodded. I’d love to.

They walked to the entrance of the mall and Emma led her to a small café inside. After waiting in line, they sat down at an empty table in the corner with their beverages.

It feels good to sit down, Emma said, after a sip of her smoothie.

I’ll bet. Sloane grinned. "Are you having a boy or