Take Me Deeper by Jackie Ashenden Read Free Book Online Page A

feeling shifted in his chest. A familiar feeling. The same feeling that had hit him the first day he’d gone along with his father and brothers on a pickup and set eyes on eighteen-year-old Charlie Jones. They’d been there to get her older brother, and her father tried to stop them, shouting and screaming and throwing punches. Rush and Quinn and his father had handled the older Jones, while Zane had comforted Charlie, telling her it was okay and that her brother would be okay too.
    Charlie had looked at him like he was her hero, her savior. As if he wasn’t just a boy, standing on the sidelines watching helplessly as his father got drunk every night and his brothers went off the rails. Unable to do anything to prevent it.
    That look in her eyes had gone straight to his head like a slug of his father’s best bourbon, and he’d decided then and there to be that hero for her. Fix the situation she was in. Make a difference.
    He’d fallen in love with her and she with him.
    Until her brother had screwed up a second time and they’d had to come back for him. And Charlie had died.
    Zane shoved the feeling away, got up, and left the motel room.
    Never again. Never the fuck again.

Chapter 4
    Iris woke up with the most incredible feeling of well-being. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d opened her eyes after a night’s sleep and felt refreshed. Especially the past couple of months. Usually she woke up at some insanely early hour of the morning, all her senses on high alert, convinced she’d heard someone trying to get into her motel room.
    Not this time apparently.
    She lay on the bed and stared at the dingy ceiling, her head pleasantly empty of thought.
    After a moment, she stretched her arms above her head, only to be brought up short by the cold bite of metal against the skin of her left wrist. Confused, she twisted around, spotting the handcuffs that were holding her tethered to the bed.
    Handcuffs? What the hell?
    “You’re awake. Finally.” The voice was masculine and horribly familiar.
    Iris turned her head.
    On the other bed, a man sat with his elbows on his knees, long fingers loosely linked between them, searingly blue eyes cold and sharp.
    Zane Redmond. The bounty hunter.
    Oh shit.
    He’d caught her at the bar and she’d tried to escape. Then that freak from Dallas had followed her and shot at her, and they’d managed to escape. And then she’d fallen asleep in his damn truck.
    She blinked, her mouth feeling dry and cottony. “How long have I been asleep?”
    Zane glanced down at the chunky, expensive-looking watch on his left wrist. “About four hours. I thought you were never going to wake up.”
    Four hours? She’d been asleep for four hours while a complete stranger watched over her? And not just any stranger, a bounty hunter intent on taking her back to the police. Jesus, she must be insane. It was only that she’d felt so tired and as he’d driven her away, she’d known there was nothing she could do. That she couldn’t fight anymore. She was caught and some part of her had even felt a little relieved, as if the ax had fallen.
    Sure, that guy had been after her, but she’d had the peculiar feeling that it was okay because Zane wouldn’t let anything happen to her. He would protect her.
    She was safe.
    Safe? Are you nuts?
    Iris turned away from him abruptly, a weird shiver going all the way through her. Yeah, she
was
nuts. Nothing about her life had ever been safe, especially where men were concerned. In fact, men tended to be the problem, and if she thought this one was any different, she was deluding herself.
    “Where are we?” she asked.
    “In your motel room.”
    “How did you—”
    “I have a file on you, which included the address of this motel.”
    A file. Of course he had a file. “What about that guy back at the bar?”
    “The one that was going to kill you?” He paused and she turned back to look at him before she could stop herself, getting trapped in