TRAPPED BY THE BAD COP

From the back cover

One wrong decision changes her life. Caught stealing in the wrong person's house. Thing is he won't let her go easy. He wants to own her, his little thief.

***** Footsteps echoed behind her.

Measured. Calm. Unhurried. Not boots. Bare feet on polished wood, like the devil himself had rolled out of bed to stretch his claws across the shadows cast by the full moon that could be seen through the broken glass window high in the sky. She bit down hard on her lip. Shit she got in the wrong house. Then his voice whiplash in the room.

"I'd offer you a sip of my coffee, but you look like the type to slip something into my cup."

Cady jolted. Whirled around, her hands clutching her throat. He stood just at the edge of the kitchen-half-shadow, half-statue. Shirtless, sweatpants riding low on his hips like even gravity deferred to him. One hand wrapped around a cup of coffee, the other hanging loose at his side. No weapon. No cuffs. No badge on display.

But his eyes... They pinned her in place more effectively than steel. Ford Wilson. The name meant a dozen things depending on who you asked. Hero. Tyrant. King of a city no one remembered voting for. She'd never seen him up close before. Only the headlines. The rumors. The whispers that followed in the wake of bodies that didn't make it to court.

"Didn't expect company tonight," he said, sipping slow, like this was a casual inconvenience and not a break-in.

Cady couldn't speak. Her throat was sandpaper and panic. He walked toward her. Unhurried. Lethal.

"Let me guess," he said softly. "Rent's overdue. Boss shorted your paycheck. Maybe someone you love is sick. The usual story. You're not the first, you won't be the last."

She gritted her teeth. "I'm not looking for pity."

"Good," he said, eyes narrowing. "I don't offer it."

He stopped a few feet from her, head tilted like he was studying an exhibit. Not a threat. Not a thief. Just an animal caught in the wrong kind of trap.

"You picked the wrong house."

She swallowed. "Didn't come for you."

"But you found me." His voice dipped, quiet now. "And that makes you mine." Her stomach twisted.

"You're not calling the cops?" she managed.

He smiled, but it wasn't kind. "Why would I share?"

Her heart thudded wildly. "You going to kill me?"

"Not yet," he said, too casually. "You broke in. That's leverage. And I never waste leverage."