He kissed her. “You know, I recently met a psychic. She says it’s important to have all your energy centered, not spread too thin.”

She moved his hand to a spot where he liked to put his hand. She was warm and wet. “Feel my energy?” she whispered.

It was going straight to his head. Making him want to say things and make big promises. “Tess,” he said. “I—”

She kissed him. Drew him in. “Focus, A.L. What was that you said about spread?”

He moved between her legs. Slipped inside. “I’m doing my best work here,” he said, his lips hovering at her collarbone.

“Plenty good,” she murmured, moving against him. “Plenty good for right now.”

Don’t miss Beverly Long’s previous book featuring A.L. McKittridge, Ten Days Gone, available now from MIRA Books!

Keep reading for an excerpt from In the Rancher’s Protection by Beth Cornelison.

In the Rancher's Protection

by Beth Cornelison

Chapter 1

He’d found her. Again.

Carrie French stared out the dirty window of the hole-in-the-wall motel where she’d been hiding for the past week. Frustration and fear bit her stomach. Acid climbed her throat until she thought she might vomit.

Instead, she pulled a deep breath in through her nose and blew it out slowly through pursed lips, seizing her composure with both hands. If she panicked, she’d hurt her ability to think clearly. She had a few precious moments before Joseph would discover her here in room four. She could picture him flashing a wad of hundred-dollar bills to the front-desk clerk as he presented her picture and demanded to know where Carrie was.

Because she was used to having to run on a moment’s notice, Carrie had kept her bag packed, her shoes lined up and ready to stuff on her feet, her burner phone fully charged. With a few quick motions, her cell was unplugged, her feet covered, her bag in hand and she was scrambling to the door. She cracked it open, peeked out.

Joseph was still in the small office, his back to the window. She had no time to waste.

Covering her head with the hood of her jacket, she jammed her sunglasses in place, shouldered the strap of her canvas bag and fled the room. She didn’t bother closing the door, didn’t look back. She ran for the car she’d parked around the corner, out of view of the office, and whispered a prayer for divine intervention. Help me get out of here. Don’t let him see me. Please!

“Hey! Carrie? Stop!”

Her heart sank as she pushed her legs to go faster, fumbled the ignition key one-handed while she tossed her bag on the back seat. So much for not being seen.