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  Dare’s voice was soft and low. “Are you sure you don’t have any problems with ancient history, Addie?”

  She brought her hands up to push against his chest, but he simply moved closer. “No images to haunt?” The words were whispered so close that his lips brushed her skin as he spoke, and an involuntary shiver chased down her spine. “No memories to rise?”

  His mouth covered hers then, firm, a little bit angry, and a whole lot hungry. She tasted the demand on his lips and fought against it. But he was too close, and she felt a moment of panic when she realized that the moment she’d sworn never to repeat was playing out again.

  Finally she opened her eyes, confused, vulnerable, in a way she rarely allowed herself to be.

  “Ancient history, Addie?” Dare murmured again. “Are you sure it’s dead and buried…?”

  Hard To Resist

  KYLIE BRANT

  Books by Kylie Brant

  Silhouette Intimate Moments

  McLain’s Law #528

  Rancher’s Choice #552

  An Irresistible Man #622

  Guarding Raine #693

  Bringing Benjy Home #735

  Friday’s Child #862

  *Undercover Lover #882

  *Heartbreak Ranch #910

  *Falling Hard and Fast #959

  Undercover Bride #1022

  †Hard To Handle #1108

  Born in Secret #1112

  †Hard To Resist #1119

  KYLIE BRANT

  lives with her husband and five children in Iowa. She works full-time as a teacher of learning disabled students. Much of her free time is spent in her role as professional spectator at her kids’ sporting events.

  An avid reader, Kylie enjoys stories of love, mystery and suspense—and she insists on happy endings! When her youngest children, a set of twins, turned four, she decided to try her hand at writing. Now most weekends and all summer she can be found at the computer, spinning her own tales of romance and happily-ever-afters.

  Kylie invites readers to write to her at P.O. Box 231, Charles City, IA 50616.

  For all our “extra” kids—who fill our house,

  empty our cupboards and enrich our lives.

  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 1

  Addison Jacobs walked into her office and stopped short in the doorway. Six foot two inches of lean golden male was comfortably settled in her chair with his feet propped on her desk and crossed at the ankle. Her narrowed gaze followed that long, muscled line of jean-clad legs. The finely tailored linen shirt he wore covered a broad chest, flat stomach and was snugged in to the waistband at his narrow hips. The intensity of his electric-blue eyes was momentarily hidden behind closed lids. With the late afternoon sunlight haloing his bright-blond hair and outlining the chiseled perfection of his profile, a woman could be excused for believing she’d stumbled upon a dozing Greek god. Some might even go so far as to offer prayers of gratitude to the deity responsible for creating such a flawless specimen of manhood.

  But not this woman.

  She let the door slam behind her and watched with grim satisfaction as the man’s eyes snapped open and the chair came upright with a start. “Get your ass out of my chair, McKay. And then keep it moving until it’s out of my office.”

  The moment of surprise past, Dare McKay aimed a lopsided smile at her. “Ah, Addie, as charming as ever. Good manners would dictate that you ask me politely to state my business. And I wouldn’t turn down coffee if you’re offering.”

  “It’s A.J.” Her tone was level enough, even though her jaw was clenched. “As you well know. And you gave up any right to polite behavior when you barged into my office and took up residence behind my desk.”

  “Your assistant said I should wait.”

  “I doubt very much Song meant for you to wait in my office.” She approached the desk and set her maroon leather briefcase beside it, giving him a pointed look. He vacated her chair, but instead of moving to another seat, he leaned his hips against the desk close beside her. Much too close.

  “Did you know there’s a betting pool over which state’s attorney is going to land the Delgado case?”

  Comprehension dawned, and with it, a healthy dose of cynicism. Of course, the high-profile kidnapping/attempted murder case would bring a hotshot investigative reporter like McKay sniffing around. But if he thought he’d get information from her, he was dreaming.

  He continued cheerfully, “I put ten on you, two-to-one odds. Mark Stanley was running just a bit ahead of you this morning, but I was betting on that cool-headed logic of yours to tip the scale in your favor. If Beardmore’s instincts are better developed than his politics, he’ll go with the best.”

  Deliberately looking at her watch, she ignored the flattery. “Doesn’t the newspaper have you keeping regular hours anymore? Or does winning a Pulitzer entitle you to set your own schedule?”

  Dare settled more comfortably against the desk and folded his arms across his chest. “You wound me, Addie. Truly. I am working. I’m here to verify that you’ve been named lead prosecutor for the Delgado case.”

  The sound of her teeth snapping together was audible. “No comment.”

  “C’mon, don’t be like that. How about if I offer to split my winnings?”

  “What part of my answer didn’t you understand, McKay? The ‘no’ or the ‘comment’?”

  He grinned at that, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Well, it was worth a try. Deadline’s looming.”

  “And we both know the lengths you’ll go to for a story.” The words were spoken with uncharacteristic impulsiveness, and A.J. regretted them even before Dare’s eyes went cool, his smile fading.

  “Or you think you do.” Abruptly he pushed away from her desk. He went to the window and hooked the blinds with a finger, lifting them to look out at the view below. “You know, I might be in a position to offer you some help with your case along the way.”

  “Your offer is duly noted and rejected. I’m going to assume you remember the way out.”

  He turned then, letting the blinds drop. “Never give an inch, do you, Addie? You’re going to be swimming with sharks in this particular case. Watch your back.”

  Lifting her chin, she studied the man before her. He was convincing. She could almost believe that he was concerned about her safety. Dare McKay’s entire career rested upon his ability to get people to trust him. But there was precious little Addison Jacobs trusted in life. This man would never make the short list.

  Her voice tinged with sarcasm, she asked, “Scare tactics, McKay? Is this where I’m supposed to throw up my hands in horror and beg for your strong, manly protection?”

  He cocked his head, pretended to give her question consideration. “The image does hold a certain appeal.”

  Snorting in derision, she said, “Make sure to hold your breath until that day arrives.” Rising, she strode to the door, pulled it open.

  “A.J.” The man poised before her doorway with his hand still raised to knock sent a considering look between her and McKay. “Are you busy?”

  “Dennis.” A dull throb had started in her left temple, a normal enough occurrence when she was in McKay’s company for any length of time. “Am I late for our appointment?”

  “You’re not late. My schedule just filled up, and I thought we could move the meeting forward a bit.” Cook County Senior Assistant State’s Attorney Dennis Beard
more was a tall man, with a solid build just beginning to show the effects of too many rubber-chicken dinners consumed at political functions. He deliberately cultivated a theatrical look, wearing his wavy, prematurely white hair swept back from a broad forehead and left long enough in back to brush his shoulders. She doubted she was the only one who suspected Dennis dyed his hair for effect. At any rate, his appearance matched the deep, resonant voice he used to great advantage in the courtroom.

  “Have a seat.” She speared a glance at Dare, who was making no effort to leave. “Mr. McKay was just on his way out.”

  “McKay.” Beardmore’s voice held mild interest. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Congratulations on your latest Pulitzer. The second, isn’t it?” A.J.’s gaze shot to the reporter. She’d had no idea that the award was just his most recent. Beardmore continued, “Had my office been fully apprised of just how far-reaching your exposé would turn out to be, perhaps we would have been a little more helpful when you approached us with questions.”

  Dare’s smile had cooled. “Maybe next time.” He turned to A.J. “Ms. Jacobs. Always a pleasure.” Exiting the inner office, he passed Song’s desk and winked at her. “Later, Ms. Wynn.”

  The woman’s audible sigh as the reporter left earned her a disgusted look from A.J. before she turned and followed Dennis into her office and closed the door. Slipping into one of the leather chairs facing her desk, she indicated for the man to do the same.

  In his early fifties, Dennis Beardmore was a man with aspirations beyond his current position. Intelligent, driven and ambitious, he exuded charisma. Not the hot-and-cold-running charm of McKay, A.J. thought, but a more deliberate civility that he donned and shed as easily as his thousand-dollar suits, as the occasion demanded. Despite her personal distaste for his inner-office politics, she respected his expertise in the courtroom, where he used his genial and barracudalike qualities with equal effectiveness.

  “How’s the armed robbery case coming?”

  A.J. proceeded to give him an update on the case that had kept her in court all morning, concluding, “Judge Gaffney allowed the defendant’s plea for an early recess. It’ll drag out for another month at this rate.”

  He nodded. “That case is too advanced to consider someone else taking over for you now. But I’ve cleared the rest of your caseload.” Ignoring her raised brows, he handed her a typewritten sheet of paper. “This list details their reassignments. You’ll want to meet with each of the attorneys, give them your notes and bring them up to speed.”

  A.J. reached for the paper slowly. She couldn’t remember another instance when Beardmore had considered one single assignment important enough to clear an attorney’s calendar. Quite the opposite, in fact.

  As if reading her thoughts, he fixed her with a shrewd gaze. “This is a big one, and I don’t mind telling you, I want a win pretty badly.” He handed her a thick file folder he carried. “Here’s what we’ve got so far on the Delgado case. Most of it you already know, since you acted as charging attorney on the scene.”

  “Who’s his defense attorney?”

  “Joel Paquin.”

  Her stomach twisted. She should have known. She’d realized Dennis had to have ulterior motives for passing on a case that would be highly publicized. Paquin was potent motive. The man had the ethics of pond scum, but he was inarguably successful. And he’d beaten Beardmore three out of the last four cases they’d tried together. She was coming to a vague understanding of how the Christians had felt right before being thrown to the lions.

  “I have faith in you, A.J. You beat Paquin the one time the two of you met, didn’t you?”

  The question was rhetorical so she didn’t bother answering. Dennis was intimately acquainted with the records of every attorney working with him. She had no doubt that her win had been the deciding factor in her landing the case.

  “I’ve named Stanley as secondary, so the two of you will be working closely together. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

  The quintessential professional, she kept her face impassive. “Not at all.”

  “Good. Secondary chair is usually reserved for less experienced prosecutors, but this case calls for stacking the deck a bit.” Beardmore rose. “I’ll want to be apprised of your progress every couple days.”

  The request didn’t surprise her. The attorneys normally gathered once a week to talk about the progress of their cases and to accept new assignments. But she’d already concluded that the Delgado case would be subject to more intense scrutiny.

  “I’ve got a press conference planned for four-thirty, at which time I’ll announce your assignment to this case. I’ll expect you in my office at four-fifteen.”

  She followed him to the door. When he was out of ear-shot she speared a look at her assistant. “No maidenly sighs, Song?”

  The woman shrugged. “So sue me. I’m a woman. And McKay is the kind of man who makes me really, really aware of it, you know?”

  A.J. did. She counted herself lucky that she was immune. “If you want to take your chance with him, you’ll have to stand in line. Women swarm around him like flies.”

  “An enticing picture.” There was a speculative gleam in Song’s exotic dark eyes. “Do you have any other information to share? Something acquired…firsthand, perhaps?”

  “Well, let’s see…” Enjoying the spark of interest on her secretary’s face, she pretended to consider. “From my dealings with McKay I’ve found him to be deceitful, arrogant and downright nosy. A real dream man, all right.” She allowed herself a little grin at Song’s crestfallen expression.

  “Here.” She handed the woman the sheet Beardmore had given her. “Set up times I can meet with each of the attorneys on the list so I can bring them up to speed on the cases they’re taking over for me.”

  Song took the sheet and glanced at it. “I heard you were named prosecutor. That’s great news. Congratulations.”

  A.J. wasn’t fooled. “How much did you win?”

  Song looked startled, then smiled sheepishly. “Twenty. I was behind you all the way.”

  She’d need more than good wishes on this case, A.J. thought, as she went back to her office and closed the door. She sank down into one of the chairs, leaned her head back and closed her eyes. The earlier excitement she’d felt at the assignment had long since faded. In its place was a mixture of determination and trepidation. With Paquin in the courtroom, trials tended to take on a circuslike atmosphere. She could only hope they’d get a hard-line judge who wouldn’t put up with any of the other lawyer’s antics.

  She rubbed her temples absently, her concentration focused on the day’s events. Two things already seemed certain. Her superior had decided he’d rather sacrifice her to Paquin and the media rather than risk his future political career. And he’d assigned as secondary a fiercely competitive attorney who was going resent his position every minute of the trial.

  As days went, this one couldn’t get much worse.

  Dare McKay tipped back the bottle of beer and drank appreciatively. “I’m surprised to see you out tonight. Thought that fiancée of yours had you pretty well tied up these days.”

  Rather than taking offense at the gibe, Detective Gabe Connally looked complacent. “Meghan and her nephew had an appointment. I’m picking them up in an hour.”

  “Got the wedding date set yet?”

  “If I had my way it’d be tomorrow.”

  Dare marveled at the hint of disgruntlement in the other man’s tone. Although he’d only recently come to know Connally better, the detective had always given the impression of a man wary of ties. Meghan Patterson had inexplicably changed that.

  “She doesn’t want anything big, but she does want to do the church thing, flowers, reception…all that.” Gabe shrugged self-consciously. Not in a million years would he admit that the idea wasn’t completely disagreeable. He’d take Meghan any way he could get her, and if he had to wait, maybe a church wedding wouldn’t be so bad. It would, at least, lend a satisfyin
g air of permanence to their vows. He cast a glance at the man seated across from him. “You can come.”

  Dare accepted the offhanded invitation graciously. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  Gabe gave him a wicked smile. “It’s always good to have an unattached man to dance with the available ladies.”

  Squelching the quick spurt of panic the words elicited, Dare hastily added, “On the other hand, tell Meghan I’ll be bringing a guest.”

  Mouth quirked in amusement the detective started to answer, before his attention was diverted. He nodded toward the front of the bar. “Actually, I’m here tonight to meet with her.”

  Dare turned in the direction of the man’s gaze and saw Addie approaching the bar and placing an order with Jax, the giant bartender. From the looks of her, she’d just come from her office. She hadn’t changed clothes, and he knew she often kept grueling hours.

  Glancing at Gabe again, he asked, “Is this the first you’ve met with her since she’s been named to the Delgado case?” As the arresting officer, the detective’s testimony would no doubt become an integral part of Addie’s case.

  The other man nodded. “She called earlier, but Madison and I were working another investigation. We’ll be tied up tomorrow, and I could tell she didn’t want to wait, so…” He frowned a little. “How experienced is she? I don’t want Delgado to walk away with a slap on the wrist because the prosecutor was a cream puff.”

  “Looks can be deceiving,” Dare said dryly. “That madonna-like face is accompanied by a kick-you-in-the-teeth attitude.”

  A slow grin crossed Gabe’s face. “That’s right. You were going to give me the story on the two of you.”

  “Some other time, maybe.” Ignoring the speculative note in the man’s voice, Dare kept his eyes trained on the bottle in front of him. He knew what the other man saw when he looked at Addie. She was the kind of woman who looked as if she should be kept behind glass, where nothing dirty could sully her. Her hair was as blond as his own, her eyes a deep brown. Her striking looks had led more than one attorney to underestimate her skills. He’d witnessed the way she dismantled them in court, one argument at a time. He’d almost felt sorry for them. She was a tough prosecutor who didn’t back down in the face of a challenge. At least, not in her professional life.