About HONEST INTENTIONS
USA Today Bestselling Author Kennedy Layne continues the Safeguard Series with this fast-paced romantic suspense novel that leads the SSI team on the trail of a serial killer who continually seems to be one step ahead…
Coen Flynn has always done the right thing, even it meant siding against his own family. His sense of justice was what led him to take a job in law enforcement, though his choice of agency was a bit unorthodox. His current assignment was believed to be a simple protection detail. He was never supposed to be identified by his charge, but a murder took priority and changed the course of his mission.
Brettany Lambert’s life is suddenly rocked when she finds the body of a dead friend on the eve of what was supposed to be a special wedding. Now Brettany and Coen are trapped in the middle of a blizzard and their attraction will fuel the heat of temptation. Good intentions always have a way of backfiring, but his desired intent won’t matter if a notorious serial killer can finish what he started.
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Excerpt:
“Brettany?” Coen didn’t bother to
take off his boots, though he didn’t cross the line where the entry tile and
the hardwood floor of the living room met in a seamless transition. “Come on
out! Someone wrecked into one of your trees out front.”
“What?” Brettany asked before she
rounded the corner. She was hastily making her way across the room and putting
on her boots before he could stop her. “Please tell me it wasn’t Mr. Landry
down the street. He promised me he’d be back before the storm hit. Do we need
to call 911?”
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Coen asked, shaking his head before he even finished the last word. Two minutes
ago, she was scared shitless that a serial killer had come to kill her in cold
blood. “I didn’t mean for you to come outside. I only meant the coast was
clear. I need a flashlight so that I can check to see how bad the damage is to
your house. A downed limb could have damaged the roof. I’m assuming a large
branch fell, but the storm is too heavy for me to make it out from the lights
out front. Turn on any outside floodlights you have so that I can evaluate the
damage, if there is any.”
“I’m not worried about the house,
Coen.” Brettany shot him a look of disapproval. She grabbed her jacket and was
hastily shoving her arms in the sleeves as she turned toward the door. “We
might need to get Mr. Landry an ambulance.”
“Brettany, it’s not Landry. As a
matter of fact, the driver left on foot heading west.” Coen grabbed the hood of
her coat to prevent her from reaching the doorknob, causing her upper body to
bend as she took another step forward. “Would you stop, please? There’s no need
for you to go outside in this weather. I need you to get me a flashlight and
turn on your outside lights.”
Brettany batted his hand away from
her hood with a frown before turning to face him.
“Why didn’t you say that in the
first place?” Brettany spun around anyway, holding her hands up to the window
so that she could see outside. “Whose car is it?”
“I don’t know,” Coen replied as he
lifted his jacket off the coat rack. “It’s not someone from the neighborhood.
If you could grab me that flashlight, I’ll take a look around and also check
the glove compartment to see who it belongs to. Maybe we can find a number and
call to make sure the driver made it home safe on foot.”
Coen breathed a little easier when
she pulled away from the door. She passed him, only to stop at the entryway
table. She then opened one of the two drawers, magically producing an old
mag-light type flashlight. He took it from her and ensured that it was in
working order, narrowing the focus to midrange. He’d been about to thank her
when she had to go and set his teeth on edge. She’d produced a second mag-light
and her intentions were obvious.
“Just out of curiosity, does your
class listen to instructions as well as you do?” Coen was now standing between
her and the door. He didn’t have any plans to move while she had it in her head
that she was joining him outside. “Or do they just do as they please, just like
their teacher?”
Brettany had already pulled the
hood of her jacket over her curls, causing her green eyes to appear brighter as
she stared at him in confusion. They finally cleared with understanding, but it
was easy for him to see that a storm was brewing—and he wasn’t talking about the
one outside.
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