In Broad Daylight

In Broad Daylight
Marie Ferrarella

She moved like poetry and wore her sensuality like a second skin. Blond, beautiful Brenda York could make a good cop cross the line. And when that cop was Dax Cavanaugh, on the trail of a missing child, it was an all-out war between duty and desire. And desire was winning.Thrown together with the detective searching for her kidnapped student, Brenda couldn't ignore the sexual tension simmering between them. But what would happen once Dax learned she was carrying another man's child? Was their love strong enough to make them forget everything but the need to be together at any cost?

She looked up into his eyes.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

The honest admission undid him. Dax followed her inside.

The moment the door was closed and she turned to him, the tempo was set.

He framed her face with his hands and kissed her. Slowly at first, savoring the contact, while still leaving her an opening to back away at the last minute if she came to her senses. Because it was apparent to him that he wasn’t going to come to his. Not with this feeling she’d generated within him. This need to have her.

But instead of resisting, Brenda leaned into the kiss. Twining her arms around his neck, she silently surrendered herself to him.

It was all he needed.

In Broad Daylight

Marie Ferrarella

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

MARIE FERRARELLA

This RITA

Award-winning author has written over 120 books for Silhouette, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide.

To

Patience, who has a great deal.

With thanks,

Marie

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Epilogue

Chapter 1

There was nothing he hated worse than a kidnapping case.

The thought of someone who was part of your life suddenly vanishing without a trace—leaving you powerless to find them—had always seemed like the most heinous of crimes to Detective Dax Cavanaugh.

Maybe it was because he was acquainted firsthand with the situation. His Uncle Andrew and the family had gone through all sorts of personal hell when his Aunt Rose had vanished. It was fifteen years before they’d any answers.

The torture was in not knowing.

The torture was in the various awful, haunting scenarios that your mind could drag up despite your best efforts to block them.

In his personal opinion, Dax thought as he took a street that led him to a prestigious address, every kidnapper should be left for ten minutes with the families of the victims. That’s all, just ten minutes. And then justice would be served. But he was sworn to uphold a more traditional justice and that was what was bringing him and his partner to Harwood Academy.

A tangle of two fire engines and one ambulance, each belching personnel onto the front lawn of the very private Harwood Academy less than twenty minutes ago, made finding a place to park his navy Crown Victoria a feat comparable to finding a place to stand within ten minutes of the beginning of the annual Rose Bowl Parade.

“Looks like this is the place,” his partner, Nathan Brown, commented.

“Yeah, and it looks like everyone else has found it ahead of us.”

Muttering a frustrated expletive, Dax brought the vehicle to a forty-three degree angle against a late model Mercedes in the small parking lot, unfolded his large frame and got out, slamming the door behind him.

Gregarious and outgoing, the eldest son of Brian Cavanaugh, chief of detectives of the Aurora, California, police department, Dax was known for his easygoing humor. But not today. Nothing sobered him faster than a kidnapping. Especially the kidnapping of a child, as this was reported to be.

He glanced toward his right, to assure himself that Nathan had gotten out and was keeping up as he cut across the lot. Nathan was as short as he was tall and on unseasonably hot days like today, he liked to complain about his “freaky, stork-like legs.” To which Dax would respond by saying something about his partner’s stubby limbs.

But no such banter took place today. Because a six-year-old girl might be missing.