Wooed by You: Alpha Male Romance | Tropical Heat Series, Book 1
Wooed by You
Sophia Knightly
Contents
Copyright
The Tropical Heat Series Books
Linc and Isabel - Wooed by You (Tropical Heat Series, Book 1)
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
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Excerpt - Wild for You
Books by Sophia Knightly
About the Author
Copyright © 2015 by Victoria Koch
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN 978-0-9909698-4-6
The Tropical Heat Series Books
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Linc and Isabel - Wooed by You (Tropical Heat Series, Book 1)
He’s a tough cop on a mission.
She avoids cops like the plague.
He’s got his work cut out for him…
Single mom Isabel Garcia’s blood runs cold when an innocent dig in her garden unearths evidence of her late husband’s criminal activity, one she knew nothing about! When she calls narcotics detective Linc Heller, she faces another shock-- her wild attraction to the hot detective.
Yet Linc’s perilous profession makes him unsuitable as a potential husband and stepfather. Protecting her little daughter from further heartache, Isabel vows to avoid Linc. But the alpha lieutenant is determined to woo the elusive Latin beauty and show her some risks make life worth living.
Chapter 1
Isabel dug into the fertile soil around the gardenia bush and stopped when her shovel hit something hard. Curious, she ditched the shovel and dropped to her knees, clawing the ground with gloved hands until she unearthed a briefcase. She rocked back on her heels as cold sweat covered her body. The stiff black briefcase buried in her colorful garden was jarringly out of place and somehow menacing.
The morning sun barely heated her suddenly chilled back as Isabel staggered to her feet, clutching the briefcase. Thunder, the black lab and Great Dane mutt beside her, let out an ominous growl that made double shivers crawl up and down Isabel’s spine.
“Shh, boy, it’s okay,” she said, patting Thunder’s big head, though she knew it wasn’t okay—not by a long shot.
Thunder’s ears were stretched back and his massive body braced as he woofed in response and nudged her thigh with his snout.
Isabel’s squinting eyes searched from side to side and all around to make sure no one had seen what she discovered. Her mind mocked the futility of her paranoia. She lived in the rural Redlands of Miami where there was no one around for miles, save for the cottage behind her house where Javier and Sarita lived. The couple that tended the grounds had been working at her tropical fruit tree nursery directly behind her land with the crew of workers since early this morning.
Isabel wiped moisture from her creased forehead with her sleeve before brushing away clumps of soil from the briefcase’s locks. With trembling fingers, she pushed the locks open. A gasp burst from her throat and her eyes shot open when she saw the neat rows of little plastic bags filled with white powder inside.
Sensing her shock, Thunder growled like a lion, his jaws strained wide as his muscular body quivered and remained alert by her side.
Isabel stared at the open briefcase in her clenched hands for a long moment. Just when she’d begun to feel normal again after her ex-husband’s death this had to happen—a disturbing reminder that Frank’s criminal past lived on.
Panic ricocheted through her in waves as she slammed the briefcase shut and let it slide from her hands to the ground. She yanked her gloves off and tossed them down, then ran to her house with Thunder barking madly and galloping after her. Once inside, she bolted the door and leaned against it, gulping in deep breaths before heading to the kitchen.
Terror filled her as she stood at the kitchen window and clutched the counter with white knuckled hands. At a distance, she could see the damning briefcase on the ground and knew she had to call the police, but her throat felt locked. She needed to drink water and steady her nerves before she could manage an audible conversation.
With shaky hands, she poured water into Thunder’s bowl and filled a glass for herself, downing all of it before reaching inside the cabinet drawer. Pulling in a steadying breath, she located the business card for Lieutenant Linc Heller. Large and formidable, he was the last person she wanted to have to call again after their previous meetings—but she had no other choice.
Thunder noisily slurped water from his bowl while Isabel clutched the phone and punched in the numbers to the police station. With a satiated groan, her dog sprawled on the tile floor beside her, lending support.
Placing a trembling hand on her chest, Isabel sucked in more air and willed her voice to be steady. "I need to speak to Lieutenant Linc Heller. It’s an emergency. Please," she said when the call was picked up. Her body was chilled to the marrow, though the sun had warmed it a few moments earlier. Rubbing her arms, she closed her eyes and willed her legs to hold her up.
"Just a minute. I’ll connect you," the officer replied.
“Thank you.” Her voice was a low rasp of despair, mirroring the dread mushrooming inside her as she recalled the disturbing events of the past year when everything had taken a nosedive after Frank's death. Lieutenant Heller had grilled her about Frank's motorcycle accident and his involvement with a drug cartel. Isabel winced, reliving the long, grueling sessions she had spent answering his relentless questions until the tough detective had believed that she had known nothing about Frank's criminal activities.
"Linc Heller," rumbled a deep, male voice, drawing her to the present.
"Lieutenant, this is Isabel Garcia," she said. “Sorry to disturb you, but can you to come to my house now?"
"What's wrong?" he said immediately.
“I can't tell you over the phone, but it’s urgent. Can you please come now?”
“You need to tell me what it is first.”
Isabel sighed. Did he have to be such a stickler about everything? “I found some evidence you were looking for…in a briefcase. That’s all I can say.”
"I'll be right over," he said and hung up. Lt. Heller was a hardnosed, tough cop, yet he had always been considerate with her. Hopefully today he wouldn’t be any different.
While she waited, Isabel led Thunder out and left him in the fenced area on the side of her house so he’d be out of the way. She dashed back inside and kept far
away from the briefcase until Lt. Heller arrived. Glancing at the kitchen clock, she noticed it was ten o’clock a.m. Thank God, her daughter Suzie was at kindergarten or she'd be asking a lot of questions that Isabel couldn't answer.
Isabel paced her kitchen trying to calm the agitation churning inside her until she heard Thunder’s growling woofs signaling the detective’s arrival. She rushed to her living room window where she saw a car pull up the driveway. Two men got out and alarm flickered through her as they approached her house. She had been hoping Lt. Heller would come alone. Seeing the men arrive together put her on the defensive—they looked so imposing.
Lt. Heller’s large, muscular build exuded command as he briskly strode to the door. The other officer wasn’t as powerfully built, but he was equally tall with dark olive skin, longish black hair and whipcord lean muscles.
Just before they reached the steps leading to her house, Isabel opened the front door. Bright Miami sunlight glinted sparks off of Lt. Heller’s close-cropped, thick brown hair and sunglasses. He removed the sunglasses and stuffed them into his blue button down shirt pocket. "Isabel, this is Detective Blackthorne,” he said, motioning to the man beside him.
Isabel nodded and willed her body to stop trembling. She was so spooked that if either one had said, “boo,” she would’ve keeled over.
Resting his hands on his compact hips, Lieutenant Heller’s dark brows drew together over piercing blue eyes as his gaze raked her over. “Are you all right?”
"No…not really,” she admitted with a wobbly half-smile. “You better come inside." She shut the door after they entered and turned to face them, her pulse tripped up with nervousness. She closed her trembling hands into fists to stop the jitters running through them. If she looked scared they might think she was guilty of more than innocently finding Frank’s drugs. "I was digging a hole in my backyard to plant a tree..." She paused.
"And?" Lt. Heller prompted. The other detective remained silent beside him, watching her with unfathomable black eyes.
Isabel felt dwarfed by the men as their keen eyes, fixed on her, catalogued everything. She drew in a steadying breath and expelled it. "I found a briefcase. I think it’s the stash the police were searching for...after Frank died."
“Good,” Lt. Heller grunted. “Where is the briefcase?" He stared at her, steely blue eyes alert and piercing.
Isabel cleared her throat and took a step back from Lt. Heller. His compelling persona made inertia take over her limbs, making her hands hang limply at her sides. "Outside,” she said, breaking eye contact with him. “I left it where I found it. Follow me."
On unsteady legs, Isabel led them outside through the French doors to her backyard, fighting a wave of dizziness, as she got closer to the briefcase.
She stayed in the background while Lt. Heller and Detective Blackthorne hunkered down beside the briefcase. Lt. Heller used his gloves to open the case. Detective Blackthorne field tested it and affirmed it was cocaine. Lt. Heller took pictures and counted the bags for evidence, then filled out a form before snapping the briefcase shut and handing it to Detective Blackthorne.
Straightening, Lt. Heller rose and turned his attention to Isabel. "Let's go inside."
She followed him in silence, wondering what would happen next. She got her answers as she watched Detective Blackthorne put the briefcase on the foyer table and wait while Linc arranged for a search warrant affidavit. When the judge gave his okay electronically, Detective Blackthorne began to search the interior of Isabel’s house while Lt. Heller made phone calls.
Isabel brewed a pot of coffee. Her hands were clumsy and leaden as she set out milk, sugar, cups and spoons and tried to stop the barrage of internal “what-ifs” making her sick with angst. She’d done the right thing in calling the police right away. As soon as they left, the briefcase would be in their hands and off her property.
Soon afterward, the bittersweet aroma of strong Cuban coffee permeated her kitchen. She set a white demitasse before Lt. Heller and waited for him to finish his conversation. A fleeting thought of how tiny and delicate the cup looked next to his large, muscular hands afforded the distraction she needed to compose herself.
Lt. Heller hung up and turned his full attention to Isabel, his blue eyes vigilant.
"Would you like some coffee? I made enough for you and Detective Blackthorne," she said, inclining her head toward the table.
"Thanks, I’ll have some, but Detective Blackthorne is busy investigating the scene. More crime scene techs will arrive soon to search your property outside."
“Oh,” she said bleakly. Crime scene techs. The stark reality of her backyard being a crime scene freaked her out. So much for feeling like her garden was her haven.
Linc sat down and finished the Cuban coffee in two gulps. "I need to ask you a few questions, Isabel.” He paused. “Don't be nervous."
Isabel nodded and swallowed against the clogging knot of dread in her throat.
"Why did you choose that spot to dig in your garden?" he asked.
"Last year, my ex-husband, Frank, bought me a gardenia bush on Mother's Day, and he planted it there when I wasn't home. Even though I fertilized it and watered it, the bush never flowered. I decided to pull it out and surprise my daughter, Suzie, with a carambola tree since she likes the star fruit so much."
"Did anyone ever come by asking questions about Frank after your house was ransacked?" he asked as he took notes.
"No, that was three months ago. I haven’t heard from any of his friends after that. He always kept them separate from me. While I was convinced that Frank was running his import export company, I helped my mother run the tree nursery, and I took care of Suzie.” Her heart clenched at Frank’s treachery and how it would affect Suzie if she ever found out. “Like I told you before, Frank and I were divorced before he died in the motorcycle accident."
“What about his family?
“He was estranged from his parents. Frank’s brother, Miguel, was furious when he discovered Frank had been tripping on cocaine at the time of his accident.”
"Did Miguel ever mention the briefcase to you?"
She shook her head and looked down at her clasped hands. “No, there was bad blood between them, and they didn’t speak. I don’t trust Miguel or anyone associated with Frank…not even his parents. I’m extremely protective of Suzie, and I’m grateful she doesn’t have any contact with them,” she said, lifting her gaze to meet his squarely.
Lt. Heller’s thick brows drew together and a flicker of concern darkened his eyes as he watched her. “Do you feel safe living out here, so far from everything?”
“It’s the only life I know. My family’s business is here.” Isabel uncurled her spine from her hunched position, wishing she didn’t feel so fragile and exposed. “I can’t afford to be scared.”
His earnest eyes met hers. “I don’t want you to be scared. You have my office and cell phone number. Call me at any time.” His unexpected, kind offer warmed her tremulous heart, and Isabel wished they could have met under different circumstances.
A lump formed in her throat and hot tears burned the backs of her eyes. She couldn’t muster the strength to pretend to have a handle on things when she felt as if she were unraveling…again. Lt. Heller had seen her at her worst when Frank’s illegal dealings had shattered her and her little daughter’s peaceful existence, leaving Isabel gasping for air. She looked down and shook her head against the onslaught of self-pity.
He touched her hand. “Hey, are you going to be okay?”
She nodded and forced the tears back. His large hand felt so secure around her trembling one, it helped her summon the courage to speak without crying. Meeting his searching gaze she said, “What happens now, Lieutenant?"
“Call me Linc.”
“Okay.” She remembered he’d told her to call him Linc in the past.
“We take the briefcase in and reopen the investigation.” He released her hand and got up, his flexed biceps stretching the sleeves of his blue
button down shirt. He stood before her, his powerful legs slightly spread and square hands on his lean hips, back in police mode.
She got up and faced him with imploring eyes. "I don't want my daughter Suzie to know about this. She would be so ashamed if she knew her Papi had done bad things. You know how cruel other children and their parents can be. They might ostracize her."
Linc nodded. "I understand. How is your little daughter?" he surprised her by asking.
A funny flutter swarmed in Isabel’s belly as she gazed at him. She had been so concentrated on making sure her daughter was okay the past six months, Isabel had forgotten what it felt like to be a woman. It was the first time since Frank's death that she felt attracted to a man. Why did it have to be the man scrutinizing her ex-husband’s criminal past?
She had been too terrified during the investigation months ago to fully appreciate Linc’s rugged handsomeness. Her breath caught in her throat as his intense masculinity stirred sensual awakening in her. She stood before him, helplessly dwarfed by his larger than life persona and formidable physique.
In spite of the dire circumstances, she couldn’t help noticing every single thing about him. The breadth of his shoulders was nearly twice the size of hers and his hard-muscled torso looked like it was made of granite. He had compact hips and long, powerful legs. The chiseled shape of his jaw, the firm thrust of his chin, his steely blue gaze that could soften with kindness in the blink of an eye—all those things held her in thrall as she stared at him.
Trapped in a moment of feminine self-awareness, she thought about what she looked like. Her long dark hair was pulled in a disheveled ponytail at her nape, her work shirt plastered to her clammy skin, her jeans stained from kneeling on the dirt, and she didn’t have a stitch of makeup on. Not a pretty picture, yet there was no denying the flare of attraction in his striking eyes.