Heated Pursuit (Alpha Security #1)
April Hunt
To my children—who’ve taught me to smile, laugh, and reach for those dreams that are high in the sky.
Acknowledgments
I wouldn’t be seeing my book on the shelf if it weren’t for my family and the unending love and support that they’ve given me each day. Thanks to my husband for understanding when the laundry loads started piling high, and to my children, who were as enthusiastic about having pizza for dinner on day one as they were on days three and four.
My rock star agent, Sarah E. Younger—your encouragement and support have no boundaries. Your guidance, as always, is invaluable and treasured. I couldn’t have been blessed with a better soul to guide me through this crazy world of publishing. I’m proud to be a member of #TeamSarah.
Thank you to my editor, Madeleine Colavita, for loving this book and my slightly damaged heroes as much as I do. You’ve helped me achieve my dream of sharing Heated Pursuit with the world, and of making it what it is today. And to everyone at Grand Central / Forever—thank you! You’ve helped make this experience one I’ll treasure forever.
Through the years, I’ve made so many friends in the writing community—invaluable, amazing, talented friends. As #TeamSarah continues to grow, so does my overwhelming pool of support. And of course, my #GirlsWriteNight crew—Tif Marcelo, Rachel Lacey, Annie Rains, and Sidney Halston. You ladies have been with me through this crazy ride, doling out encouragement when needed, cattle prods when required, and thumbs-up when deserved. To you, I say, #LiftedPensUnite!
My darling best friend and CP, Tif. I never would’ve thought that in the midst of a busy twelve-hour shift, I would’ve found my greatest writing champion. If there’s one person for which I could say that this book never would’ve happened without, it’s you. You really have been with me from day one: from conception to plotting, to querying, and beyond. Your encouragement and support mean more to me than you’ll ever know.
And to my readers—thank you for allowing me the opportunity to share with you my troubled heroes and the women they never knew they needed but now can’t live without.
CHAPTER ONE
San Pedro Sula, Honduras
Penny’s damp underwear stuck to her skin in an uncomfortable bunch, but it wasn’t a man’s skillful pair of callus-roughened hands or his dirty, talented mouth that had caused the problem. The blame lay entirely with the god-awful Honduran humidity.
It didn’t matter. No degree of sweaty undies or unfortunate chafing would slow her down. Nothing could make her turn back, because her family meant the world to her—and Rachel was the only one she had left.
A tingle at the base of her neck made Penny skid to a stop. Her gaze snapped left and right, heart trilling as shadows stretched into human-sized figures and melted away with the twinkle of a far-off light. Nothing looked amiss, but two tortuously slow seconds later, the sound of a boot scraping asphalt had her spinning around with fists raised.
Half-hidden in shadow, the man ducked her sweeping arm and pivoted much too fast for someone his size. In a blink, he reappeared over her shoulder. Months of training and practice brought her heel down onto his large, booted foot and she turned…straight into a hulking black-camo-clad figure.
Holy ever-lovin’ god of iron giants.
Behind his ski mask, the man’s piercing blue eyes raked down the length of her body. He towered over her by more than a foot, and given the width of his broad shoulders and massive chest, he outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds of solid muscle.
Penny swallowed the fear rising in her throat and did the first thing that popped into her head—she aimed a swift kick between his legs. And then she ran like hell.
Each painful inhale rattled in her lungs as she pumped her legs harder. Her hair whipped across her line of sight, temporarily obstructing her view. Seconds ticked by at an agonizing crawl. Fifty yards. Twenty. The closer her rental Jeep came into view, the louder the echoing pound of footsteps behind her became.
An inch away from the door, strong hands propelled her face-first into the grimy driver’s side window.
“Let go of me.” She twisted and squirmed, cursing as he yanked her arms sharply behind her back and pinned them into place with his two hundred–pound frame.
“Ya era tiempo,” her captor said, tossing a deep growl of Spanish to their left.
About damn time. Years of studying the language had Penny’s heart sinking to her stomach…because she knew he wasn’t talking to her.