Dante's range just kept rising to the surface as he looked
through the place police records of Sarah's case. Just a few
phone calls had gotten the information delivered to his pers-
onal computer. He didn't give a shit if it was questionable that
he was reviewing records while he wasn't on duty, studying a
case that wasn't anywhere close to his own jurisdiction. He
was a goddamn cop twenty-four hours a day, seven days a
week, and this was personal.
Sarah had been silent on the drive home and had spo-
ken to him only to ask for one of his T-shirts to sleep in.
She'd showered and retreated to a guest room, barely saying
a word. For the first time since he'd met her, she looked frag-
ile and terrified. Dante didn't like it. He wanted to see her
smiling again right fucking now.
Bastard!
Dante's fist slammed onto the desk in his den, right on
top of the image of the suspect. It didn't help. He needed
to hear the satisfying crack of facial bones breaking as he
pummeled the bastard to death. After what he'd done to
Sarah, he deserved it.
But instinct was telling Dante that this was the perpe-
trator behind the destruction of Sarah's house. It all fit the
rage behind the crime, the destruction of personal property,
and the violent message left behind. The fucker who had
nearly killed her still wanted her dead.
No wonder she avoids hospitals now.
She'd told him during one of her home visits that she
was seeing outpatients only. He'd never really questioned
why Sarah didn't admit patients to the hospital herein
Amesport, why she turned their care over to another physi-
can if they needed to be hospitalized. She was relatively
new to the area, and he'd thought that maybe she just
hadn't gotten her admitting privileges yet.
She doesn't want to go back into a hospital.
"Dante?" Sarah's hesitant voice sounded near the door-
waffle of the den.
He looked up and saw Sarah standing there in just his
white T-shirt. She looked exhausted, and her expression
was troubled. He wanted to hold her on his lap and wrap
himself around her until she felt safe again. Feral impulses
YOU ARE READING
No ordinary Billionaire
RomantizmDante Sinclair never cared about his family's money. All the ultra-sexy billionaire ever wanted was to be a cop and now that he's a homcide detective in Los Angeles, he's a damn good one. But when he is injured an...
