Taming the Night - Softcover

Riggs, Paula Detmer

 
9780449150191: Taming the Night
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0449150194 ISBN 13: 9780449150191
Verlag: Fawcett Books, 1999

Inhaltsangabe

Working on converting an old house into a treatment facility for drug-addicted teenagers, Dr. Summer Lawrence attracts the attention of Chief of Police Brody Hollister, whose skepticism about the project is softened by the doctor's charms

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Paula Detmer Riggs is the award-winning author of twenty-five novels for Harlequin Silhouette. Her books have sold more than one million copies. She is married and lives in Winston, Oregon.

Aus dem Klappentext

nning author of twenty-five beloved romances, Paula Detmer Riggs now turns her superb talents to a compelling new love story. <br><br>Dr. Summer Laurence knows the horror of addiction from the wrong side. But after life-changing therapy, she becomes a drug counselor, hoping to help young kids before they get into trouble. When Summer's dear friend Dottie offers her an old house to convert into a counseling facility, Summer jumps at the chance to make her Phoenix Ranch dream come true.<br><br>There's only one problem: Dottie's suspicious nephew, Brody Hollister, the local chief of police. Brody despises drug users and thinks counseling is useless for most of them. But there is something about Summer he can't ignore. Her smile touches a place in his heart that was damaged on a terrible night years ago. He no longer believes in second chances, least of all for himself. Yet when he's in Summer's arms, he is tempted by possibilities. . . .

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Oh God, it's too early. Please don't let me have my baby here.

Summer Laurence curled forward over her swollen belly, awkwardly cradling the baby with her shackled hands. Gradually the sharp pain eased, and she let out a shaky breath. It didn't feel like a labor pain, not like the ones described in the book she'd been reading the morning of her arrest, anyway.

Closing her eyes she rocked gently, trying to soothe the little love who'd been restless since morning, when they'd taken Summer from her airless, sour-smelling cell in the Metropolitan Jail for the trip downtown to the courthouse. She'd had the first cramp in the van and begged the marshal to take her to the ER, but the hulking cop had only laughed. She was a frigging prisoner, he'd said through the wire grid. They'd take the kid the minute it was born, so what the hell? Why sweat it?

"I'll never give you up, my sweet baby," she crooned, careful to keep her voice low so that it wouldn't carry to the marshal who sat nearby, reading the morning paper. "But guess what, sweetie. Today--this very morning, in fact--Daddy's coming to get us."

Kyle would make the nightmare go away. Trust me on this, babe. Just keep your chin up and your mouth shut until I work things out.

"Your daddy is a wonderful man," she whispered, rubbing the spot where a tiny fist had pummeled. According to the ultrasound technician at the free clinic, the baby was a little girl, sucking her thumb in the Polaroid picture Summer kept propped next to the studio couch in her one-room apartment.

Across the anteroom, the grossly overweight man with the acne-scarred face looked up from the sports page and snorted. According to her cell mates, Corporal J. T. Jessop was every female prisoner's nightmare. The worst of the worst. Summer had cringed when she'd seen his name tag.

"Way I hear it, ain't no way of knowing who 'Daddy' is," he said, deliberately staring at her breasts until her skin crawled.

"I know and so does h-her father."

"Don't jerk your chin at me, bitch." Jessop's voice was as painful as the slap she'd gotten last week from the matron in charge of her cell block.

"I'm ... sorry," she managed to get out. Whatever you do, don't piss off the guards, her cell mate Rosalie had warned that first awful morning when they'd locked her up with three other women. We be workin' girls, too, honey, Rosalie had said with that world-weary laugh. Though from the looks of that big belly, it 'pears like you ain't quite got the hang of it, yet.

Everyone thought she was a hooker. Only Kyle knew the truth. Feeling the panic rising again, she twisted around to look at the clock. In ten minutes she was to go in front of the judge.

"Getting anxious, babycakes?" The guard scraped back his chair and lumbered to his feet. Summer shrank back as he loomed over her. Chuckling, he reached out a hand to grab her chin, and she felt the sweat on his palm. The terror she'd been fighting since dawn surged to her throat, constricting her windpipe until she felt light-headed.

"Be nice to me, little girl, and I'll see you get all the shit you want." Jessop's voice was greasy, like the stuff plastering his thin hair to his scalp. "Crack, speed, you name it, sweetcakes. Only cost you what you been givin' out to them suckers on the beach. Me and you, alone in a nice private van on the way back to the lockup."

Summer fought down a rush of nausea. At the jail he'd taken his time shackling her. While the matron pretended not to notice, he'd groped Summer's swollen breast, pinching her hard when she'd flinched away. When he'd bent to fasten on the leg irons, he'd slid one beefy hand up to stroke her thigh. During the short drive across town he'd described in graphic detail exactly what he'd like to do to her.

"Please let me go," she whispered, squeezing her eyes tight. "The baby ..."

"What are you, sixteen?"

"S-seventeen," Summer admitted, feeling fully twice that and more.

"Seventeen and already knocked up." His oily grin revealed teeth so stained they appeared rotten. "Always did have me a taste for the young stuff. Break 'em in right." He snarled a laugh. "'Course that ain't possible with you, is it, sweetcakes? Seeings how you was already well broken in afore you turned sixteen." His thumb rubbed her throat, making her skin crawl. "Give me some sugar, green eyes, and I'll see you get to have your brat in the infirmary 'stead of on the floor of your cell like the last bitch who refused me. She was real upset when the kid strangled to death afore the matron got around to calling in the doc."

Summer felt faint with horror. Surely he was lying. He had to be lying. Such things didn't really happen. Or did they? Oh dear God, please give me courage to get through this before Kyle comes for me. Please, please help me.

The guard leaned forward, bathing her face with his foul-smelling breath. "How 'bout a little somethin' on account?" He reached out to fondle her breast with his fat fingers.

Somehow Summer kept from gagging. "Please don't," she begged, squeezing her eyes closed. "I'll be sick--"

The door leading to the courtroom opened, causing the guard to straighten quickly. The man in the doorway was tall and well built and blond. For an instant her heart all but stopped, and her spirits soared. Kyle! Except that it wasn't, she realized with crushing disappointment.

"'Morning, J.T.," the officer drawled, his expression mocking. "Sorry to disturb you, but we got us an arraignment coming up in about six minutes. Old Judge Ramirez don't take kindly to cooling his heels while one of his marshals grabs a quickie in the anteroom."

Jessop's fingers tightened until Summer felt as though her skin would split before he released her. "You heard the man, Ms. Laurence. On your feet."

Summer obeyed, but her movements were slow and ponderous. The bulge of her seven-month pregnancy made her feel unbalanced, which she might have found comical if she hadn't been so scared. The agile athlete who could hang ten over the edge of a surfboard and waltz with the waves suddenly found it tricky to keep her footing on level ground.

The courtroom was icy. Most of the seats were empty. Heart thudding hard above the now quiet baby, she searched the huge room, desperate for the sight of the man she loved. Instead, she saw a few lone spectators in the rear, reading the morning paper or chatting while waiting for the show to start. Desperately, she shifted her gaze to the front where the blond cop was chatting with a plump, gray-haired lady in a blue suit. The court reporter, Summer registered absently. Like in old "Perry Mason" reruns she used to watch in the middle of the night when the craving to use again got so bad she couldn't sleep.

Today was simply a formality, she told herself as she cast an uneasy glance at the twelve vacant seats in the jury box. Seats that would remain empty unless the judge ruled there was enough evidence against her for a trial. But that wouldn't happen, she reminded herself. Kyle would make everything right again. But where was Kyle? Surely he knew what time she was to appear.

Please don't let me faint, she prayed silently as she gripped her manacled hands tightly together in front of her and waited for the marshal to remove the handcuffs. The chains around her ankles would remain. To keep her from hauling ass, Rosalie had explained.

"Put that sweet young butt in the chair and behave yourself," Jessop said in a low voice only she could hear. "When this is over, we'll have...

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Verlag
Fawcett Books
Erscheinungsdatum
1999
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0449150194
ISBN 13 
9780449150191
Einband
Taschenbuch
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