Ryan's Temptation E-Book

Amber Daulton

• Herausgeber: Amber Daulton
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

Wrong place, wrong time. Now she’s running for her life.
Beautician Chanel Leroc can wield a pair of scissors like nobody’s business. After she witnesses a murder and lands on a serial killer’s hit list, she has to figure out how to protect herself—and fast. The killer tracks her down, but her sexy new neighbor, Dr. Ryan Naylor, drives the brute off.
The police dump the pair in a witness protection program, which doesn’t last long. Either the killer has a connection to the police, or he’s far more intelligent than they realize. All Chanel wants to do is get back to her safe life and get to know her neighbor better. Instead, she and Ryan hit the road and try to survive on their own.
How will they stay alive and keep their blooming romance intact with the killer hot on their trail?

– Book 2.5 in the sexy romantic suspense series, Arresting Onyx.
– Warning: scenes depicting assault, stalking/harassment, and a brief hostage situation. Intended for mature audiences.

Standalone novella. No cheating. HEA guaranteed.

Available in the Arresting Onyx series

Arresting Mason (Mason and Mia)
Arresting Jeremiah (Jim and Calista)
Ryan’s Temptation (Ryan and Chanel)
Arresting Benjamin (Benji and Belle)
Trevor’s Redemption (Trevor and Shea)
Arresting Alan (Alan and Hannah)

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Cover Page

Title Page

Copyright

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ARRESTING ONYX SERIES BIBLIOGRAPHY

Ryan’s Temptation

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

Arresting Benjamin

Chapter One

About the Author

Read More from Amber Daulton

Ryan’s Temptation

Amber Daulton

––––––––

Ryan’s Temptation © 2022 Amber Daulton

First Edition

Published by Daulton Publishing

Cover Art by Satin Rose Designs

All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s [and publisher’s] exclusive rights under copyright, any use of this publication to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

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ARRESTING ONYX

SERIES BIBLIOGRAPHY

Arresting Mason

Arresting Jeremiah

Ryan’s Temptation

Arresting Benjamin

Trevor’s Redemption

Arresting Alan

Arresting Onyx: Box Set Volume 1

Arresting Onyx: Box Set Volume 2

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Ryan’s Temptation

Wrong place, wrong time. Now she’s running for her life.

Beautician Chanel Leroc can wield a pair of scissors like nobody’s business. After she witnesses a murder and lands on a serial killer’s hit list, she has to figure out how to protect herself—and fast. The killer tracks her down, but her sexy new neighbor, Dr. Ryan Naylor, drives the brute off.

The police dump the pair in a witness protection program, which doesn’t last long. Either the killer has a connection to the police, or he’s far more intelligent than they realize. All Chanel wants to do is get back to her safe life and get to know her neighbor better. Instead, she and Ryan hit the road and try to survive on their own.

How will they stay alive and keep their blooming romance intact with the killer hot on their trail?

Chapter One

The piercing cry froze the blood in Chanel Leroc’s veins. She stumbled on the sidewalk and whipped around to face a Mexican restaurant. What was going on? Light poured into the night from the windows of the small blue eatery as the flickering streetlight in the lot cast an eerie intermittent glow across the parked vehicles. Another cry echoed from somewhere in the darkness, stopping the man and woman passing by her in their tracks.

She stepped forward, her throat tightening. Oh my God. Someone’s in trouble.

The man grabbed his female companion’s elbow, and they hurried away.

Smart move. If only she’d follow suit. She wrapped her arms around her chest and headed into the lot. Cars sped behind her, the blast of honking horns and revving engines kicking her pulse into overdrive. Shivers raced down her spine like a thousand spiders. Why was she investigating? This wasn’t her business.

She backed up and froze, shaking her head. No. She couldn’t abandon someone who might be hurt. What kind of person would that make her? She clutched her bulky purse, gritted her teeth, and strode forward. Her high heels clicked in time with her thumping heart as she rounded the side of the one-story building, drawing up short. Oh, hell.

A dark-haired brute pinned a whimpering blonde woman against the wall and mumbled obscenities against her neck. Moonlight sliced through the clouds and lit them in stark relief.

“Help.” The blonde stared at her—tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, past smeared mascara, toward the blood that trickled from her nostrils. “Please.”

The woman’s weak voice stilled Chanel’s heart. “Hey! Stop!” She stomped forward, then planted her feet. What the hell am I doing? Heat seared her face.

The man jerked upright, gripped the blonde’s arm with his gloved hand, and pressed a large knife to her throat with the other. His bushy eyebrows dropped over his narrowing eyes.

Chanel swallowed hard. Was this maniac the Streetwalker Killer?

Every newspaper and news station in Denver, Colorado, was reporting on the deranged man. He’d assaulted and gutted three prostitutes in the past month.

Dear God. She really stepped into it this time. “L-let her go. I’m gonna call the cops.” Chanel jabbed her hand inside her purse. Her wallet, appointment book, phone charger, and containers of makeup clacked together, bumping her hand. Where was her cell?

A high-pitched cry split the air.

Bile burned up Chanel’s throat. No. Please.

The man jerked the knife from the woman’s stomach. Dark-red liquid smeared the blade and trickled to the ground. Blood pooled from the wound as he thrust her aside.

Chanel ran. Her long legs ate up three strides toward the parking lot before the butcher grabbed her hair and jerked her back. Ow. His hard body slammed into hers like a slab of granite. Tears pricked her eyes. This couldn’t be happening! She had to fight—escape.

“Help!” Shouting at the top of her lungs, she clawed at his thick arms, digging into the sleeves of his jacket. His musky stench enveloped her as he clamped his hand over her mouth and nose, choking off her air. Shadows engulfed them like deathly fingers as he dragged her further behind the building. Where had the moon gone? She bit his hand and gagged from the taste of wet iron and old leather.

“Stupid bitch.” He shoved her against the wall, mere feet from the other woman.

Chanel cried out, the brick scraping her forehead. Great gulps of air stretched her lungs as tremors shot through her legs. How was she still standing? Something sticky squished beneath her feet. Oh, God. Blood. The metallic stench permeated her nose. The teriyaki chicken she’d eaten for dinner now churned in her belly. As he yanked her around, she clutched her purse tighter and walloped it against his skull.

“Shit.” He stumbled sideways from the momentum and grasped the side of his head. Fire spit from his eyes.

“Help, please!” She dared to run—to dart away—but slipped in the blood pooling around the fallen prostitute. The ground rushed up to meet her.

Oomph.

The hard impact struck like a punch to the gut. God help her. Anyone.

“What the... Get away from her!” A deep voice lashed from the darkness. “Hey, Eudora. Call 911.”

Chanel snapped her head up. Thank goodness. Her heart soared.

A man raced toward her.

The monster snatched her purse off the ground and ran.

Her rescuer knelt and rested his hand on her back. “Are you all right?”

“I-I’m okay. H-he stabbed her.” She slapped her hand on her mouth to hold back vomit. Violent sobs racked her chest.

He stepped away and pressed his fingers to the other woman’s neck. “Damn it.” He sighed and returned to Chanel. “He’s gone. You’re safe. Can you stand?” He gently grasped her arms and tugged her up.

She hugged the stranger, her lifeline in the storm raging through her. Pressure drilled behind her wet, blurry eyes. His warmth surrounded her, curbed her tears. The astringent scent of antibacterial soap cloaked his skin. The same kind always burned her nostrils when she visited her health clinic. She wrinkled her nose, blinked away the haze, and peered up at him.

Short blond hair lay brushed back over his head, and fine creases branched from his dark eyes.

Was that a cleft in his chin? She gripped his blazer tighter. She’d seen him before, but where? “Do I know you?”

“I’m Ryan Naylor. I live in the same building as you. You’re Chanel, right?”

She nodded. Yes, of course! How had she not recognized him at first sight? She’d been crushing on the handsome man since she spotted him at the mailbox alcove in her new apartment building. She drew back and flattened her palms on her slacks. Yuck. Blood and grime smeared the fabric. That poor woman. Another sob escaped her.

“Don’t look at her. One of my colleagues is calling the police.” He wrapped his arm around her and led her away from the body.

She tripped and snagged his blazer to steady her feet. His grip tightened. The muscles in his back flexed under her palm. Nausea washed through her, and her stomach bucked like a ship at sea in a storm. She bit her tongue to silence a cry as Ryan pulled her to the main lot.

“What happened?” A middle-aged brunette woman peered into the shadows. “A squad car should be here soon.”

“You okay, ma’am?” The pudgy man at the woman’s side frowned at Chanel.

God, she must look a mess. Chanel patted her mussed hair, then dropped her hand. Who cared? “It all happened so fast.” She choked. How could she explain what happened, and to strangers, no less? If not for Ryan, the bastard probably would’ve gutted her. Tremors jolted through her again, and dots blackened her vision. Her head swayed.

“Shh, easy now.” Ryan clasped her arms and steadied her. “You don’t have to tell us anything. When the police arrive, tell them. Will you do that?”

“Of course.” Damn right, she would. She didn’t know Ryan from Adam, but his kindness warmed the icy sludge running through her veins. She slid her arms around him. Foolish. Wasn’t she stronger than this? He patted her back, soothing her tight muscles. She sank against him. Ooh, yes. His muscular chest and lean build blocked out the world. Then he shifted, and the pillar she desperately needed eased back. She sighed, blinking rapidly, and dropped her hands.

Ryan set her away from him and narrowed his eyes at her injured forehead. “Are you hurt anywhere else? Do you need medical attention?”

“I don’t think so. No doctors, please.”

A small smile edged his lips. “Wash this abrasion when you get home. Over-the-counter antibacterial cream will help reduce the chance of infection and scarring. You should be fine.”

She grasped his hand. “Is that your medical opinion?” Oh, Jesus. Did she lose a few brain cells when she hit her head? How could she be flirting?

His smile stretched clear up his cheeks. Then he pursed his lips. “Yes, it is. I’m a doctor, as are Eudora Burel and Gus Johnston.” He nodded to each of his colleagues. “We work at the Holmfast Health Clinic down the block.”

“If you need anything, we can help.” Dr. Burel flicked her gaze to Chanel and Ryan’s joined hands, then smiled back at Chanel. “But Ryan has you covered.”

Heat flushed Chanel’s cheeks. No more pawing Dr. Hot Stuff. She dropped his hand. “My friend Belle and I go to Holmfast for our annuals.” No wonder he smelled like her clinic. She licked her dry lips and forced a smile at the other doctors. “I’ve seen you two there now that I think about it. But not you.” She frowned at Ryan. Was he lying about being a physician? She snorted. Calm down. Of course, he wasn’t lying. How else could he explain his association with Burel and Johnston?

“I started there two months ago. Have you been in for a checkup lately?”

The corners of Ryan’s smug, full lips inched up again.

“No. I’m sorry. My emotions are all over the place. I’m not thinking clearly.” Chanel reached for her purse to grab a tissue and patted open air. Her heart stilled, then hammered. “That prick took my purse.”

“Anything important inside it?” Dr. Johnston scratched his sagging jowl.

“My keys, wallet, phone. A bunch of crap.” She pressed her hand to her upset middle.

Police sirens wailed from down the street. Two cruisers pulled into the lot.

Chanel’s ears rang. She lifted her hand, warding off the glaring headlights and flashing blue lights. The sirens fell silent, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

“Over here!” The gray-haired doctor waved his arms, flagging down the officers.

As two policemen inspected the crime scene and called for backup, Chanel and Ryan told a heavyset officer what happened while the man’s partner interviewed Johnston and Burel. More squad cars and an ambulance arrived, and the cops kept back the noisy, growing crowd.

Officer Hubbard jotted something in his notepad. “Did you get a good look at his face, Ms. Leroc? Could you identify him?”

“Yes. His eyes... God, I won’t be forgetting those anytime soon. They were brown, wild, and demented. He might’ve been on drugs, something hard to make him look like that.”

“Did he have any scars or definable features?”

“No. Not on his face, anyhow. He was wearing a jacket, jeans, and leather gloves.” A breeze tousled her hair, but she couldn’t blame the cool autumn weather for her goosebumps.

“We’ll need you to file an official statement and go through booking photos at the station. With luck, the man might be in the system.”

She cringed. Why couldn’t she go home, shower, and cry herself to sleep? If only she hadn’t stopped for dinner after working at the salon. But if she hadn’t, the man probably still would have killed the prostitute, and no one would’ve been around to identify him.

No way. That wasn’t right. The woman deserved better than to possibly become a cold case.

Chanel straightened to her full height. “I’ll do whatever it takes for you to find and throw that monster in the blackest pit. He has to be the Streetwalker Killer.” Her stomach somersaulted. Damn those stars floating in her vision. “I’m gonna be sick. I don’t—”

“Do you have enough, Officer?” Ryan grasped Chanel’s arm and propped her up. “She’s been through a traumatic experience and needs time to process everything.”

The heat of Ryan’s hand seeping through the sleeve of her blouse pushed back her nausea. She braced her feet and dragged in a shaky breath.

Officer Hubbard flipped another page in his pad. “What about you, Dr. Naylor? Get a gander at his face?”

Ryan shook his head. “Doctors Burel, Johnston, and I were leaving this restaurant when I heard shouting.” He pointed at the Mexican eatery. “I raced down here and saw a man standing over Chanel. After he saw me, he grabbed her purse and ran. He was shorter than me, maybe five feet eight, and he had shoulders broad enough to make a linebacker jealous. I didn’t get a good look at his face, though.”