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Protecting Her Heart: Bayou Bounty Hunters, #1
Protecting Her Heart: Bayou Bounty Hunters, #1
Protecting Her Heart: Bayou Bounty Hunters, #1
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Protecting Her Heart: Bayou Bounty Hunters, #1

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Gemma Wade has always followed the letter of the law, so when her boss accuses her of embezzlement, she's floored. Then her boss turns up dead, and Gemma is accused of murdering the woman. She goes on the run to clear her name and is forced to turn to the one man she knows she can trust—the same man whose heart she had broken seven  years ago at her family's insistence.

Ryder Magee is a loose cannon who lost his job as a cop in coastal Biloxi, Mississippi. He now works for his twin brother as a bounty hunter and private investigator. His latest task is to pick up his ex-girlfriend on a fugitive warrant. She swears she's being framed, but he doesn't believe her until someone tries to murder her, forcing the two of them to flee.

Gemma and Ryder must band together in order to save themselves—and somehow, despite the cloud of danger hanging over them, find their way back to each other in a heartfelt reunion.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 6, 2020
ISBN9781393511915
Protecting Her Heart: Bayou Bounty Hunters, #1

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    Book preview

    Protecting Her Heart - Melanie Atkins

    Copyright © 2014 by Melanie Atkins

    ISBN:

    Published in the United States of America

    First Publication Date: July 11, 2014

    Second Publication Date: January 6, 2020

    Editor: Jenni Cole

    Cover Artist: Jenifer Ranieri

    ––––––––

    No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information retrieval and storage system without permission of the publisher. Ebooks are not transferrable, either in whole or in part. As the purchaser or otherwise lawful recipient of this ebook, you have the right to enjoy the novel on your own computer or other device. Further distribution, copying, sharing, gifting, or uploading is illegal and violates United States Copyright laws. Pirating of ebooks is illegal. Criminal Copyright Infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, may be investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of up to $250,000. Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious situation. Any resemblances to actual events, locations, organizations, incidents, or persons living or dead are coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

    Chapter One

    Gemma Ann Wade.

    Ryder Magee read the name on the fugitive warrant for what had to be the tenth time, and then read it again. Couldn't be too many women named Gemma anywhere in the country, and certainly not in tiny Magnolia Springs, Mississippi. Had to be his Gemma. Or rather, the woman who had been his for that one long, hot, delicious summer after he'd graduated from college.

    Now she was a fugitive from justice, and the law enforcement community expected him to find her and bring her in even though he no longer wore a uniform.

    Gemma, what in heaven's name have you done? He rubbed a hand across his brow.

    The office door banged open, and his twin brother Riley strode in wearing his trademark Stetson. He took off the hat and tossed it onto the rack on the wall. Howdy, Ryder. Heard we had a fresh one. A woman you know, called Gemma Wade. Want me to pick her up?

    No, I'm about to head out now. Ryder's heart thumped as he rose and pulled out his keys, thoughts of his former girlfriend on the run driving him forward. Darkness had already fallen, and that should help him reach her place without her seeing him—provided she was even there. See you later.

    You won't have any trouble taking her into custody?

    Of course not. He scowled. I know how to do my job.

    Yeah, but you have a history with Gemma. Riley tossed his phone onto his desk and sank into the leather chair behind it. Might be hard for you to keep your distance.

    Trust me, brother. I can handle it.

    All right. Riley sighed. Just don't let her turn your head. She's wanted for murder.

    The Gemma I knew couldn't kill anybody.

    People change. His brother narrowed his eyes. With your track record, you should know that better than anyone.

    Damn it. Lay off, okay? Anger flared in Ryder's gut. I'll bring her in before midnight.

    See that you do.

    Ryder marched out of the office before he said something he'd regret. As the older brother by six minutes, he was used to being in charge. Riley had bent to most of Ryder's whims from day one. Now, however, Riley was his boss. Bayou Bounty Hunters, Inc. belonged to him, and he'd grudgingly given Ryder a job after he'd been drummed out of his patrol position at Biloxi PD thanks to one too many brutality complaints. Ryder had never set out to hurt anyone, but his temper kept getting the better of him. Riley had forced Ryder to take an anger management class before hiring him, and the instructor had taught him how to handle trouble without flying off the handle. He'd learned to walk away and not fight.

    Maybe if he'd taken the class sooner, he'd still be a cop.

    Stars twinkled overhead, and the ground radiated heat thanks to this afternoon's searing temperatures. Ryder wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and climbed onto his treasured Harley 1200 Custom. He'd briefly considered taking Riley's SUV so he could crank up the air conditioning, but decided he'd rather rough it on the bike. The stream of warm wind bathing his face invigorated him in a different way. He reveled in the sensation as he drove across town to Gemma's aunt's house, the place she'd holed up that fateful summer while searching for a job in New Orleans. Her aunt had passed away six months before and willed the house to Gemma, who had lived there only for those three short months, but Ryder had still fallen hard.

    Would she be there tonight?

    He had no idea, but he had to start his search somewhere.

    *****

    Gemma scurried over to the front door of Aunt Maggie's small frame house—well, her house now, even though she hadn't been here in seven long years—and rechecked the deadbolt. Her hands shook as she double-checked the chain as well. She'd already tested the locks on the windows and the back door and drawn the blinds. The place was as safe as she could make it, and yet she couldn't stop shivering. Terror ran rampant through her veins.

    Running from trouble went against her nature. She always did everything by the book, always told the truth and stayed on the right side of the law. This time, however, she'd had no choice but to bolt, and this place had drawn her like a magnet. The folks who had rented it had just moved out, and knowing it was empty had helped her decide to come here. During her childhood, Gemma had loved visiting Aunt Maggie each summer. Then her aunt had died and left her the house. She'd come here after graduating from college to feel close to Aunt Maggie while she searched for a job, and instead had tumbled head over heels in love.

    Stop it. She couldn't allow her thoughts to stray to sexy Ryder Magee. She had to find a way to get her hands on some cash, ditch her car, and find some other form of transportation. Where she'd go, she didn't know. Yet she couldn't stay here. Magnolia Springs was the first place the police would look once they decided she had abandoned her apartment in New Orleans.

    A pang of loss seared her heart as she picked up her small duffle bag and stalked into the bathroom. She hadn't had time to pack much once the judge had let her out on bail. She'd been afraid to stay at her apartment for long, so she had grabbed only a change of clothes and a few toiletries. At some point, she'd have to venture out to a store to buy more of both.

    She hadn't expected to be released, even with high bail, and had been fortunate to have the deed to this house to cover it. Now she'd left Louisiana, so she would probably end up forfeiting her quaint Mississippi home even if it broke her heart. The court wouldn't care. All the judge would know was that she'd gone back on her word and jumped bail.

    Her hands shook as she washed them, and she couldn't help recalling the blood that had stained her skin after she'd pressed her hands to the enormous gash in her boss's neck that day in Connie's office. Finding her on the floor in a pool of blood had terrified Gemma.

    A shiver coursed through her now as she dried her hands. She jerked around and glimpsed herself in the mirror. Her long dark hair stood out like a ratty horse's mane, her weary chocolate eyes were underscored by purple half-moons, and her skin was much too pale.

    What did I expect? she whispered to herself. I'm on the run from the law.

    Her main concerns now were money and transportation. She'd hidden her car in the woods behind the house, and either had to leave it or risk capture. Unless, of course, she could somehow sell it on the street. That would give her the cash she needed and—

    A series of sharp raps on the front door jarred her from her thoughts.

    Oh, no. Who could possibly— Gemma broke off on a gasp. An icy finger of fear trailed down her spine. She grabbed her duffle bag, tossed it into the tub, and closed the shower curtain.

    Her pulse raced as she tiptoed into the living room.

    Another series of loud knocks rattled the door.

    She gathered her courage and looked out the peephole. A man stood beneath the porch light. A tall, broad-shouldered man in a black baseball cap that obscured his face. She dropped her gaze to his neck and focused on the small tattoo inked on his skin.

    A butterfly.

    Oh, my God. Her stomach dropped to her feet. Ryder had called Gemma his little butterfly during their brief fling and had gotten a likeness of one tattooed on his skin to prove his love for her, even after she asked him to forget it. She'd known they wouldn't last, because she followed the letter of the law and he pushed beyond it. Yet still...

    Open the door, Gemma, Ryder ordered in the deep, familiar rumble that had soothed her in the night and raised goose bumps on her skin. Or I'll break it down.

    Why are you here? Why now? she cried, unable to keep the hitch from her voice. Knowing him, he'd do as he'd threatened and destroy her door. She drew in a deep breath and put one shaky hand on the knob. I don't understand.

    Open up, and I'll explain. He rapped one more time. Or I'll count to ten.

    Fine. Anger blasted through her as she opened the door.

    His eyes met hers, and he pinned her with the same enigmatic blue gaze she remembered from that long, hot summer. Now, however, he wasn't looking at her as if he could eat her up. Only contempt filled his eyes. She swallowed back the urge to bolt and glanced down at the piece of paper in his hand. A single white sheet that fluttered in the humid night breeze.

    Hello, Gemma. The curiosity on his face gave way to stark determination.

    Her heart thumped. She gripped the doorknob. Ryder, wh-what are you doing here?

    This isn't a social call.

    Didn't figure it was. Except you work in Biloxi, not in Magnolia Springs. She shifted her feet. So, you can't be here in any official capacity.

    I don't work for Biloxi PD anymore. I work for Riley now, at Bayou Bounty Hunters, Inc. He waved the paper. And unfortunately, I have orders to take you in.

    Wh-what are you talking about? His words hit Gemma like a punch to the gut. Riley Magee did own a bounty hunter/private investigation agency, meaning the New Orleans police must have already put out a warrant for her arrest. Otherwise, Ryder wouldn't be here. You can't just walk in here and make me go with you.

    Yes, I can. You're a wanted woman, Gemma.

    No. You've got it all wrong. She pressed a hand to her chest. I didn't—

    The roar of an engine interrupted her.

    Irritated by the noise, she glanced past him just as a big black SUV slid to a stop at the curb. A split second later, three men hopped out carrying what looked like assault rifles.

    Oh, no. Gemma caught her breath.

    Ryder pulled out a gun and crowded her against the door jamb. Get inside. Move!

    Ryder? What are you— She shrieked in surprise as he dropped the paper and muscled her into the living room. Wh-who are those men?

    I don't know. He slammed the door and urged her deeper into the house. Before they reached the hall, the rat-a-tat-tat of automatic weapons rang out and the front windows shattered. Ryder cursed, shoved her to the floor, and covered her with his hard body. Don't move.

    Get off me! she cried. I-I can't... breathe.

    Sorry. He pushed himself onto his elbows the way he had in bed that summer after they had made love and allowed her to lift her face off the floor.

    More shots rang out, and bullets splintered the front door.

    Ryder muttered another oath. We have to get out of here. Where's your back door?

    In the kitchen.

    Okay, he said. When I count to three, get up and run out the back. My Harley's parked behind your tool shed.

    "Your Harley?" Another jolt of surprise filtered through her. A motorcycle?

    Yeah. Had to sell the Charger. His warm breath bathed her ear. "Now... one. Two..."

    Gemma braced both hands on the floor.

    Three! Ryder helped her up and shoved her toward the hallway.

    The door burst inward, and their assailants poured inside.

    Chapter Two

    Run, Gemma! Run! Ryder whipped around and took out one of the men, then rolled across the floor, sprang to his feet, and dashed into the hall behind her as automatic fire splintered the door frame. Whoever these scumbags are, they want either one or both of us to die.

    Ryder gritted his teeth, cut to his right, and sprinted through the tiny kitchen. He couldn't worry about who or why now. He had to get Gemma to safety, and fast.

    Darkness shrouded them as they dashed across the uneven ground toward the dilapidated tool shed. Two steps later, Gemma tripped and fell.

    Her startled cry echoed through the night.

    Shh! Ryder grabbed her arm and tugged her to her feet.

    She put weight on her left foot and grimaced. Ow! My ankle... I-I think I sprained it.

    Hold on to me. He looped an arm around her shoulders and dragged her into the thick shadows beside the shed. A noise behind them caught his attention, but he didn't pause to check it out. Instead, he hauled her around the corner of the rickety building into some taller grass.

    She wasn't any heavier than she'd been when he'd spent time with her, so lifting her onto his bike was a breeze. Once she steadied herself, he handed her the lone helmet and then climbed on in front of her and reached around to catch her hands and guide them around his waist.

    Whatever you do, don't let go, he said. We've gotta move fast.

    Wasn't planning on it. She tightened her hold on him and glued her lithe form to the length of his spine.

    His heart stutter-stepped. Would she notice the gun tucked into the holster in the small of his back? He ignored the heat suddenly rolling through his veins and fired up the engine, aware the noise would bring their assailants running.

    Desperate to get away before they rounded the corner, he left the headlight off, twisted the throttle, and popped the clutch.

    The bike surged forward through the night.

    If he remembered correctly, the backyard wasn't fenced—unless Gemma had added one in the past seven years. He couldn't ask her, so he chose to believe she had not. Trees flashed by like tall, willowy ghosts as he raced across the yard and plunged into the easement owned by the power company that ran behind Gemma's white frame house.

    No fence.

    Ryder longed to breathe easier after that confirmation but couldn't

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