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Internal Affair
Marie Ferrarella
Detective Patrick Cavanaugh survived by the skin of his teeth, and was one of the fiercest law enforcers west of the Mississippi. He wasn't friendly or popular, but he waged a war against crime with a ruthlessness that scared his peers. Now someone wanted to bring him down. And when you had more enemies than friends, where did you go for answers?Fun-loving Detective Margaret McKenna became Patrick's new partner. Little did he know Margaret had the power to ruin his life and was assigned to watch his every move. Nothing had prepared them for an attraction ocean deep–and just as forbidden. While Patrick tried to fight against their love, Margaret couldn't keep from believing in his innocence–and hoping he'd believe in their future.
Praise for
Marie Ferrarella
MAC’S BEDSIDE MANNER
“…the saucy quips will draw a laugh, and the chemistry will make you shiver. Marie Ferrarella does it again!”
—Romantic Times
IN GRAYWOLF’S HANDS
“Great romance, excellent plot, grabs you from page one.”
—Affaire de Coeur
A HUSBAND WAITING TO HAPPEN
“Ms. Ferrarella warms our hearts with her charming characters and delicious interplay.”
—Romantic Times
A MATCH FOR MORGAN
“Ms. Ferrarella creates fiery, strong-willed characters, an intense conflict and an absorbing premise no reader could possibly resist.”
—Romantic Times
IN THE FAMILY WAY
“Once again Ms. Ferrarella demonstrates a mastery of the storytelling art as she creates charming characters, witty dialogue and an emotional storyline that will tug at your heartstrings.”
—Romantic Times
ONCE A FATHER
“…the pleasure of this journey is in the getting there. Reading about warm, caring people and watching relationships mature under stessful situations is a pleasurable way to spend an afternoon. As usual, Ferrarella’s dialogue is in voice, crisp, and moves the story along without ever bogging down in the emotional angst each brings to the relationship. Once a Father is a hearty recommend for a skilled writer.”
—The Romance Reader
Dear Reader,
Welcome to my newest series and the newest family that has captured my heart. The Cavanaughs are everything we would love families to be: supportive, loyal, noble in a human way, teasingly loving and, as an added bonus, each better looking than the last.
Patrick Cavanaugh is an offshoot of the main branch, a Cavanaugh cousin who has benefited from his association with the family patriarch and former police chief, Andrew. Patrick has his dark secrets, but his past has never gotten in the way of his being an honest cop. However, even the most honorable of people can be held suspect when it’s guilt by association, and Patrick’s former partner was found to have dirty hands. It’s up to Maggi McKenna, posing as his new partner, to prove Patrick guilty or innocent, not an easy task when the subject is a loner who is basically noncommunicative. The task gets even more difficult when Maggi finds herself becoming more and more attracted to him.
I hope you find these two as interesting as I did and that you’ll come back for a prolonged visit with each of the Cavanaughs as they tell their own story. As always, thank you for reading, and I wish you love.
Internal Affair
Marie Ferrarella
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
MARIE FERRARELLA
This RITA
Award-winning author has written over one hundred books for Silhouette, some under the name Marie Nicole. Her romances are beloved by fans worldwide.
To the brave men and women
who put their lives on the line for us every day.
Thank you.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 1
“No!”
Every fiber of his muscular body tense and alert, Patrick Cavanaugh bolted upright in his bed, ready to fight, to protect. As adrenaline coursed through his veins, it took several moments before he realized he’d been dreaming. And it was the dream that plagued him. The one that he’d been having night after night for the past month. Ever since Ramirez had been shot right before his eyes. And killed.
Ramirez had been one step away from him.
One step away from being saved by him.
Awake now, Patrick shivered. His bedroom was cold. December in Aurora, California, tended to be bitterly cold at times. Because the dream had been so vivid, because he’d relived every second of it, his upper torso was covered with sweat, cooling him even more.
Getting back to sleep was impossible. Not now. Habit had him reaching for the pack of cigarettes on his nightstand. The pack of cigarettes that was no longer there. Not wanting anything to have a hold over him, he’d quit smoking the week after they had put Eduardo Ramirez into the ground. Twenty-two days and counting.
He sat for a moment, dragging his hand through his hair, trying to focus on the day before him. Dark thoughts hovered around him like the ghosts of years past, searching for a chink, a break in the armor he kept tightly wrapped around himself. Waiting to get to him.
Every man had his demons, he told himself. His were no bigger, no smaller than most.
It didn’t help.
Patrick swallowed a halfhearted curse. He wondered what it felt like to wake up with a smile on his face, the way he knew his sister Patience did.
No use in going there, he thought. It wasn’t anything he was about to find out. He’d always been the somber one in the family. Not without cause. Patience was the mystery, he’d decided long ago. Happy despite everything. Despite the home life they’d had growing up.
Any happiness that existed in their lives had come by way of his uncles Andrew and Brian and their families. It certainly hadn’t come via his own, at least, not from his parents, Mike and Diane.
Patience was another story. She was the reason he’d plumbed the depths of his soul and discovered that he was a protector and capable of feeling an emotion other than anger. He had to, for Patience’s sake.
Patrick narrowed his eyes, looking at the blue digital numbers. Six-thirty.
Time to get up, anyway, he thought. Time to get ready to serve and protect.
As he rose from his rumpled double bed, the sheet tangled around his leg and then fell to the floor. He didn’t bother picking it up. His whole bed looked like the scene of a battle.
And had been. Because last night, as he had almost every night since his partner’s death, he’d fought the good fight. He’d led Ramirez and the other detectives and patrolmen into the crack house. Except that somehow, Ramirez had gotten in front of him just as shots were fired and all hell broke loose.
And he’d been too late to save Ramirez.
Again.
Don’t go there, Patrick ordered himself coldly. He muttered another curse as he walked into the tiny adjacent bathroom, naked as the day he was born. He couldn’t afford to think about Ramirez, couldn’t afford to allow himself to dwell in the land of “what ifs.” The guilt was still too raw, weighed too much. Dwelling on the pain left him winded and bleeding inside.
It was the beginning of a new week and he needed to be sharp. To survive the way others before him hadn’t survived. He owed it to the department, but mostly to Patience. They had uncles and cousins, but he was the only immediate family she had. If he let this consume him, likely as not, he’d get himself killed. Leaving her alone.
Wasn’t gonna happen. Yet.
Blowing out a deep breath, Patrick wrapped his anger around himself and stepped into the shower.
The shower handle was poised on cold. He pulled it and let the water hit him full blast. Jolting him into Monday.
“New assignment, Mag?”
Depositing the frying pan into the dishwasher, she picked up the breakfast she’d prepared and placed it in front of her father. She’d been too preoccupied to hear his question. “What?”
Matthew McKenna pushed forward his coffee cup. An independent man, he lived alone now and liked his space. He liked it even more when his only daughter, his only child, dropped by before beginning her mornings. It wasn’t something he took for granted. “Today, don’t you start your new assignment?”
“Yes. Right.”
The words came out like staccato gunfire. Mary Margaret McKenna—Maggi to those she considered part of her inner circle, or 3M to those who enjoyed honing in on her no-nonsense nature—poured coffee into her father’s cup. She was bracing herself for the morning and the change of venue she was about to face.
She supposed that was why she’d stopped by this morning to make breakfast for her father. To touch base with what she considered to be her true self. Before she left that behind. Belatedly, she offered her father a smile along with cream for his coffee.
She was what she was because of her father. And because of him, in an indirect way, she had chosen the less-traveled path within her career. Patrolman Matthew McKenna had been one of Aurora’s finest until a bullet had ended his career less than six months ago. The bullet had come from one of his own men. One of those awful things that happened in the heat of battle when shots went wild. The other policeman was found dead, a victim of one of the so-called suspects’ deadly aim, or dumb luck, take your pick. But it was the service revolver in his hand that had fired the bullet which had found its way into Matthew’s hip and left him with a slight limp. And a new appreciation for life.
She had been living in San Francisco when she’d gotten the call about her father. Without any hesitation, Maggi had handed in her resignation and come home to Aurora, to stand vigil over her father in the hospital and then nurse him back to health. When she was satisfied that he was on the mend, she put in for a job on the Aurora police force. It took little to work her way up. And when a position in Internal Affairs opened up, she applied for it.
The thought of spying on her fellow police officers bothered her. The thought of rogue police officers, giving the force a bad name, bothered her more. She took the position, signing on to work undercover. She still grappled with her own decision. It was a dirty job, she’d tell herself. But someone had to do it. For now, that someone was her.
Matthew sighed, looking at her over the rim of his cup. “You know, Mag, this isn’t the kind of life your mother and I envisioned for you, dodging bullets and bad guys.”
She finished her breakfast in three bites—toast, consumed mostly on her feet. Impatience danced through her, as it always did at the start of a new assignment. She thought of it as stage fright. A little always made you perform better.
“We all make our own way in the world, remember?” Maggie dusted off her fingers over the sink. “That was what you taught me.”
Matthew shook his head. “I also taught you that there was no shame in taking the easy way, as long as it wasn’t against the law.”
Maggie laughed, partially to set him at ease. He worried too much. Just as much as she had when he had been the one to walk out the door wearing a badge. “Where’s the fun in that?”
His expression was serious. “You think it’s fun, my sitting here, wondering if you’re going to walk in through that door again?”
Maggie refused to be drawn into a serious discussion. Not this morning. The seriousness of her work was bad enough. She needed an outlet, a haven where she could laugh, where she could put down her sword and shield and just be herself.
So instead, she winked at him. “I could move back up to San Francisco, take that burden away from you.” Her grin widened as unspoken love entered her eyes. “You’re old enough to live on your own now.”
She’d moved back home to take care of him. And once he was on his feet, with the aid of a quad cane he hated, Maggi knew it was time for her to leave. But one thing after another seemed to get in the way and she remained, telling herself that she’d look for an apartment over the weekend. She’d finally moved out less than three weeks ago. But this still felt like home. She had a feeling it always would.
