Blind Justice (Men of Steele, #5)
by: Gwen Hernandez
Series: Men of Steele
Genre: Military Romance
Release Date: March 25, 2019
Publisher: Gwen Hernandez
Amazon | Paperback | Goodreads
When Tara Fujimoto’s quest to avenge her sister’s death makes her a target, a sexy security specialist steps in to watch her back, but his quiet appeal threatens her carefully guarded heart. Can she resist their lightning-hot attraction, and stay alive long enough to expose her enemy?
Former military special operator Jeff Patarava has good reasons to keep his distance from his impossibly perfect coworker, but when her life is threatened, his resolve is shot to hell. Forced into close proximity, sparks fly as he learns she’s far more than her flawless appearance suggests. Now, he’ll put everything on the line to keep her alive.
As soon as it was safe, Jeff eased the RV to the shoulder, but left the engine running, hazard lights flashing. Maybe all that time on her phone had made her motion-sick.
Unbuckling his seat belt, he slowly approached the back. “Tara?”
She sat on the couch with her arms wrapped around her knees, face scrubbed, lips pale. A wet, but empty, glass waited next to her on the counter.
“You need anything?”
She shook her head, eyes trained on the floor.
“Did you get carsick?”
Another head shake.
“What’s wrong?” He dropped to one knee in front of her, ignoring the turbulence in his stomach.
Her dark brown eyes were full of pain, her breaths shallow. She bit her plush lower lip and he desperately wanted to take over with his own teeth.
Christ. He shifted back. What was wrong with him? She was clearly suffering.
Besides, this was Tara. Coworker. City girl. Miss Perfect.
Not for him.
Except that she was stronger than he’d expected. Despite the stories Todd had told him, after everything she’d been through, he’d expected Tara to break down by now. Had she been upset after the men tried to kidnap her? Absolutely. But she hadn’t whined, wallowed, or become paralyzed with fear. She’d dealt with each blow, and then dusted herself off and gotten back to life.
More proof she was tougher than she looked, and he should stop expecting otherwise. Unfortunately, it only increased her appeal.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
Her bone-deep sigh hit him straight in the solar plexus. “You’re a good man, Jeff.” She traced her fingers lightly along his jaw.
Her soft touch loosed a tornado in his veins. He shot to his feet.
She dropped her hand to the couch. “I have a water bottle up front.”
In three strides, he had the aluminum bottle in hand. “Here.” He held it out, keeping an arm’s length between them. Thank God for his long, gorilla arms, because the sight of her tilting her head back to drink did strange things to his insides. “You want to stop at a mini-mart for something else? Ginger ale, maybe?”
She shook her head with a wan smile. “No. I’m okay.” Smoothing her hair back, she twisted it up into a folded ponytail. “But I need to tell you something.”
“Are you pregnant?”
Her head snapped back, her lips parting. “What?”
Oops. “Well, it’s morning, and you said it wasn’t from driving…”
Her laugh was tinged with hysteria. “I guess that’s fair, but I can assure you there’s not a chance in hell I’m pregnant.”
Well, okay. At least a little color had returned to her cheeks. Maybe too much color?
Reaching out, he laid the back of his fingers against her warm forehead. “Maybe it’s a stomach bug.”
Her low chuckle curled through him, soft and enticing as a warm breeze. With a little head shake, she took his hand and tugged him down next to her on the couch, her wan smile vanishing. “I just need a minute.”
He went willingly, shocked to the core at how much he craved her touch, craved having her near.
When she nestled against his side with a soft sigh, he wrapped his arms around her, every nerve on high alert, every muscle tensed. Her slender body molded itself to his, setting his skin ablaze from shoulder to knee. He forced himself to breathe slowly, to relax, to ignore the feel of her arm lashed across his stomach, her hand pressed to his ribs.
He had no idea how long they sat like that, with him rubbing her back while she rested her head on his shoulder, but at some point, the air between them changed.
Thickened.
Heated.
Slowly, deliberately, she looked up at him, her hand grazing the stubble on his jaw.
Jeff closed his eyes, his skin tingling at her soft touch.
Don’t do it. Don’t look down.
He knew better, but hell, he was only a man.
Unbuckling his seat belt, he slowly approached the back. “Tara?”
She sat on the couch with her arms wrapped around her knees, face scrubbed, lips pale. A wet, but empty, glass waited next to her on the counter.
“You need anything?”
She shook her head, eyes trained on the floor.
“Did you get carsick?”
Another head shake.
“What’s wrong?” He dropped to one knee in front of her, ignoring the turbulence in his stomach.
Her dark brown eyes were full of pain, her breaths shallow. She bit her plush lower lip and he desperately wanted to take over with his own teeth.
Christ. He shifted back. What was wrong with him? She was clearly suffering.
Besides, this was Tara. Coworker. City girl. Miss Perfect.
Not for him.
Except that she was stronger than he’d expected. Despite the stories Todd had told him, after everything she’d been through, he’d expected Tara to break down by now. Had she been upset after the men tried to kidnap her? Absolutely. But she hadn’t whined, wallowed, or become paralyzed with fear. She’d dealt with each blow, and then dusted herself off and gotten back to life.
More proof she was tougher than she looked, and he should stop expecting otherwise. Unfortunately, it only increased her appeal.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
Her bone-deep sigh hit him straight in the solar plexus. “You’re a good man, Jeff.” She traced her fingers lightly along his jaw.
Her soft touch loosed a tornado in his veins. He shot to his feet.
She dropped her hand to the couch. “I have a water bottle up front.”
In three strides, he had the aluminum bottle in hand. “Here.” He held it out, keeping an arm’s length between them. Thank God for his long, gorilla arms, because the sight of her tilting her head back to drink did strange things to his insides. “You want to stop at a mini-mart for something else? Ginger ale, maybe?”
She shook her head with a wan smile. “No. I’m okay.” Smoothing her hair back, she twisted it up into a folded ponytail. “But I need to tell you something.”
“Are you pregnant?”
Her head snapped back, her lips parting. “What?”
Oops. “Well, it’s morning, and you said it wasn’t from driving…”
Her laugh was tinged with hysteria. “I guess that’s fair, but I can assure you there’s not a chance in hell I’m pregnant.”
Well, okay. At least a little color had returned to her cheeks. Maybe too much color?
Reaching out, he laid the back of his fingers against her warm forehead. “Maybe it’s a stomach bug.”
Her low chuckle curled through him, soft and enticing as a warm breeze. With a little head shake, she took his hand and tugged him down next to her on the couch, her wan smile vanishing. “I just need a minute.”
He went willingly, shocked to the core at how much he craved her touch, craved having her near.
When she nestled against his side with a soft sigh, he wrapped his arms around her, every nerve on high alert, every muscle tensed. Her slender body molded itself to his, setting his skin ablaze from shoulder to knee. He forced himself to breathe slowly, to relax, to ignore the feel of her arm lashed across his stomach, her hand pressed to his ribs.
He had no idea how long they sat like that, with him rubbing her back while she rested her head on his shoulder, but at some point, the air between them changed.
Thickened.
Heated.
Slowly, deliberately, she looked up at him, her hand grazing the stubble on his jaw.
Jeff closed his eyes, his skin tingling at her soft touch.
Don’t do it. Don’t look down.
He knew better, but hell, he was only a man.
Purchase Blind Justice from:
The Men of Steele Series:
Blind Fury ~ Review
Blindsided ~ Review
Gwen writes romantic suspense and books on Scrivener and other tools for writers. Formerly a manufacturing engineer, programmer, and business school instructor, she lives in an empty nest in northern California with her retired Air Force hero and a lazy golden retriever.
Places to find Gwen Hernandez:
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