Read Online Hot Pursuit by Christina Skye - Free Book Online Page A

background check was already in the works. No doubt about it, he was going to have his ass chewed royally for drawing all this attention.
    But what choice had there been? Both Rains and Taylor had been threatened, and he had been the only man on the scene.
    The clerk followed the officer outside, waving angrily. “Why you treat him like criminal?” His face was turning red. “This man save all our lives, then try to save life of lady hostage. You give him medal, that’s what.” He glared at the other SWAT officers near their squad car. “He like John Wayne. Like Bruce Wayne. Wayne Gretzky, too. You not treat
them
this way.”
    â€œLook, it’s no problem,” Jack said gruffly. “This is probably routine procedure.” Jack thought of the man he’d killed. The death didn’t register now, but it would soon. And sooner or later he would face the cold, painful examination of whether he could have done anything faster or smarter to avoid that death. The questions would start in his head and in his gut, then continue at a mission-review session.
    Hindsight could be a stern teacher.
    The manager shook his head. “Forget routine. You deserve medal. Big medal for big American hero.”
    Jack flushed as the old man pumped his hand.
    Through it all, the police officer waited calmly. “Let’s step away for a moment, shall we, Mr. Broussard?”
    Crossing the parking lot, they passed a man in coveralls lying on the ground, writhing in pain. “Who’s that?”
    The officer’s mouth twitched. “That’s the genius who was supposed to drive the getaway car.”
    â€œWhat happened to him?”
    â€œLady in the leather jacket happened. She was signing for help when she came through the window and she saw him waiting behind the Dumpsters, where the officer on the scene couldn’t see him. She hit the ground, rolled, and sucker-punched him from behind with a brick, then we took him down without a single shot fired.” The officer smiled faintly. “Must hurt like hell,” he added. “She called 911 on the cell phone in her pocket, too. Damned interesting lady.”
    Jack found himself smiling for the first time that afternoon. “I’d say
she
deserves the medal.”
    When he looked up, Taylor was standing by a squad car, laughing with four officers. Even though her knee was cut, her pants were torn, and her face was bruised, she was still a knockout.
    Jack took his time enjoying those killer legs in tight black pants. Just watching her made the air feel supercharged and full of life. How could the woman look like a million dollars after falling through a window? And when had she gotten so comfortable with the S.F.P.D. SWAT team?
    Jack had the sudden, uncomfortable suspicion that there was more to Taylor O’Toole then he’d first thought. “What happened to her jacket?” he asked the officer beside him.
    â€œTore it on all that glass in the window.”
    Not that it mattered. With Taylor O’Toole’s legs, she’d look damned good in anything.
    Or in nothing.
    Whooah, sailor.
    She looked up and waved when he neared the squad car. “Hey, Jack. I—” She took a sharp breath. “Just—thank you.”
    â€œNo problem.”
    She shoved a mass of bright hair off her face. “Wait. I need to talk to you.”
    â€œI’m kind of rushed right now.” Jack gestured to the officer beside him. “I need to answer some questions.” Not to mention that any minute the reporters would arrive, and he definitely didn’t want to be around for the media circus that followed.
    â€œBut how can I thank you? You took on that creep alone. If not for you—”
    He tried to ignore the emotion in her voice. “You did your own hostage recovery, Ms. O’Toole. There’s no need to thank me.” He glanced at the officer, who was clearly impatient. “I think I