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Cassidy and the Princess
Patricia Potter
Marise Merrick had sacrificed everything to achieve perfection as a championship figure skater. But now everything she had worked for was threatened by a crazed stalker. And all that stood between her and certain death was one hard-as-nails detective - a man who made her dream for the first time of a life beyond the ice….Cassidy MacKay knew better than anybody that a cop couldn't afford to have a woman in his life - and that went double for this woman, whose world was so different from his own. But as he raced to save her from a ruthless killer, he couldn't stop wondering what it would take to melt this ice princess's heart….
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Marise,” Cassidy said, holding her eyes with his.
He hadn’t meant to say it. But he would keep her safe. One way or another.
He held out his hand, taking her much smaller one with his fingers. The contact was warm, and the warmth became heat, and the heat became electric, spreading sparks throughout his body.
He swallowed hard, trying to understand why he couldn’t take his fingers away from hers, nor his gaze from the dark blue eyes that were swirling with need.
Desire. Hunger. Need.
Caution.
He called himself all kinds of fool, and yet the electricity remained, the attraction growing more irresistible. But it was merely an attraction, Cassidy told himself. An attraction that could be controlled.
Had to be controlled. For both their sakes.
Dear Reader,
Once again, Silhouette Intimate Moments brings you six exciting romances, a perfect excuse to take a break and read to your heart’s content. Start off with Heart of a Hero, the latest in award-winning Marie Ferrarella’s CHILDFINDERS, INC. miniseries. You’ll be on the edge of your seat as you root for the heroine to find her missing son—and discover true love along the way. Then check out the newest of our FIRSTBORN SONS, Born Brave, by Ruth Wind, another of the award winners who make Intimate Moments so great every month. In Officer Hawk Stone you’ll discover a hero any woman—and that includes our heroine!—would fall in love with.
Cassidy and the Princess, the latest from Patricia Potter, is a gripping story of a true princess of the ice and the hero who lures her in from the cold. With Hard To Handle, mistress of sensuality Kylie Brant begins CHARMED AND DANGEROUS, a trilogy about three irresistible heroes and the heroines lucky enough to land them. Be sure to look for her again next month, when she takes a different tack and contributes our FIRSTBORN SONS title. Round out the month with new titles from up-and-comers Shelley Cooper, whose Promises, Promises offers a new twist on the pregnant-heroine plot, and Wendy Rosnau, who tells a terrific amnesia story in The Right Side of the Law.
And, of course, come back again next month, when the romantic roller-coaster ride continues with six more of the most exciting romances around.
Enjoy!
Leslie J. Wainger
Executive Senior Editor
Cassidy and the Princess
Patricia Potter
PATRICIA POTTER
is the bestselling and award-winning author of thirty-three contemporary and historical romances. She has more than three million books in print. Her last romantic suspense novel remained on the USA Today bestseller list for four weeks. It was also a Doubleday Book Club alternate selection. She was named “Storyteller of the Year” in 1993 by Romantic Times Magazine and received the magazine’s Career Achievement Award for Western Romances. She has also won several Reviewer’s Choice Awards from Romantic Times Magazine and three Maggie Awards from the Georgia Romance Writers, including one for best single-title contemporary. She is a three-time RITA Award finalist. Prior to writing fiction, she was a reporter with the Atlanta Journal, an editor with a suburban Atlanta newspaper and president of an Atlanta public relations firm. She is now a resident of Memphis. She recently served as PAN Liaison to the national board of Romance Writers of America and is a past member of the national board. She has also served as president of Georgia Romance Writers and board member of River City Romance Writers in Memphis.
To Tracy Farrell…
editor extraordinaire, and friend
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 1
Marise Merrick wasn’t sure when fear first began filtering into her consciousness, or the moment she realized she might possibly have done the most foolish thing in her life.
She did not usually do foolish things. Her life was a regimen prescribed by practice sessions, competitions and ice shows. She was seldom alone, seldom without a schedule and, it seemed, never with a moment of her own.
She had decided to steal a few tonight. She’d needed air. She’d needed time to think without everyone trying to do it for her. She was infinitely weary of being in a glass cage.
She’d left the Municipal Auditorium where she and her partner, Paul, had been practicing for the next day’s Challenge Skate. A short walk to clear her head. To whisk away the look of disappointment on her coach’s face when she’d missed a jump, the startled surprise—even anger—on Paul’s face. She had not looked toward her mother.
Something had suddenly struck her as out of proportion. She had been feeling that for some time. Figure skating had been her world since she was three years old. She had never known anything else, had never questioned the fact that she was destined for a career on ice. Now after years of practice and injuries, she was nearing her goal. The Sectional was in three weeks, and the U.S. Figure Skating Championships a month later. Finally, the Olympics. It would probably be her and Paul’s last chance. The next Olympics were four years away, and there would be new, younger skaters competing.
But that goal didn’t seem so important any longer. Instead she felt more and more trapped, especially now that Paul had asked her to marry him.
She had meant just to go outside. The air was the way she liked it—crisp and clear—with a full moon in the sky. The area outside the auditorium was empty except for some cars parked in the lot. A short walk. Just a short one.
Marise didn’t know whether she actually heard something or whether the fear that crept up her back was instinct. She turned back toward the door of the auditorium. There was a security guard inside. He had, in fact, warned her not to go out, and when she persisted, had said he would watch for her.
Why had she not listened? She hurried her footsteps, then heard others behind her. She broke into a run. An arm grabbed her from behind and went around her throat, cutting off her air.
“Don’t make any noise,” a rough voice whispered into her ear.
She tried not to panic. She was strong, stronger than a stranger would suppose, especially with her short height and slender body. Her legs and arms were all muscle. If she could get in position, she could kick where it would hurt.
But now she just tried to breathe. She was dragged a few feet, around the corner of the building, behind a Dumpster. She smelled rotten food. She also smelled something else—a sweet, cloying odor.
He pulled her down, and his arm slipped. She twisted, screaming as she did before he fell on her, putting a knife to her throat. “Another sound and I’ll kill you.”
In the shadows, she saw he wore a ski mask. He had broad shoulders. He looked, in fact, like a lineman on a football team. She saw the bulk and the mask. It was too dark to see the eyes.
Don’t panic. Wait for your chance. Yet her heart was beating so loud he must hear it. He liked fear. She could sense it. Let him think you are terrified. Not that she wasn’t.
The knife stayed at her neck as his other hand tore at her track pants. She had tied the drawstrings into a knot since the pants were loose, and he was having trouble untying them. With a curse he pulled, but they did not give. He took the knife away from her throat and shifted his weight. In that moment, her right leg was free and she thrust it into his crotch, and screamed again. He doubled over, and she sought to scramble away.
One of his hands grabbed for her, and in trying to avoid it, she grabbed his mask and pulled it off. He was close, but the shadows shielded much of his face. All she wanted was to get away, as far and as quickly as possible.
His hand came up. Empty. He must have dropped his knife when she kicked him. She heard a noise from around the corner, a shout, and then saw his fist come at her.
Everything went dark.
“Hoppy, there’s been another one.”
Cassidy MacKay turned away from the files that had kept him at the office tonight instead of in front of the television, watching Monday night football. Manny, his partner, had just put down his telephone.
Cassidy flinched at the nickname. Manny had started calling him “Hoppy” for Hopalong Cassidy. Cassidy’s glare and refusal to answer kept anyone else from following suit, but Manny had an advantage no one else did. He’d saved Cassidy’s life.
He took his feet off the desk and turned in his swivel chair. “The Rose Killer?”
“Yeah, but this time he didn’t succeed in killing his victim,” Manny said.
Cassidy whirled his chair all the way around. “She’s alive?”
“Yep. She’s at the hospital.’
Cassidy erupted from the chair. “How bad is she?”
“The beat guys said she was lucky. A concussion, a few cuts, abrasions.”
“Rape?”
“No, apparently she fought like hell. She screamed, and a security guard heard her.”
Cassidy didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath. Now it exploded from his lungs.
“She’s unconscious,” Manny continued. “Could be for another few hours, even a day or more, according to her doctors.”
“He’s never left one alive before,” Cassidy said slowly. “Are you sure it’s him?”
“There was a battered rose. Not as perfect as the others. It looked as if someone had rolled on it, but it’s our guy. It had the ribbon.”
“Hot damn. He finally made a mistake.” Cassidy jumped from the swivel chair. “What are we waiting for? City Hospital?”
“Yep. But I don’t think for long. Her mother wants to transfer her to St. Agnes.”
“Mother? St. Agnes? She’s not a pro?”
Manny grinned. “She’s a pro all right, but not the kind you’re thinking of. She’s here for that figure skating competition.”
Cassidy’s brows knitted together in puzzlement.
“Ah, Hoppy, don’t you ever read the newspapers?”
“Not if I can help it.” It was a lie and they both knew it. Cassidy was a news junky, although he was also one of its most vocal critics.
“She’s a figure skater, apparently a champion in pairs. She and her partner could win the Olympic Gold Medal.”
Cassidy groaned. “Tell me you’re baiting me.”
“Nope. She’s a pure unvarnished princess, according to the newspapers.
“Since when do you read about figure skating?”
“Since we have a kid who wants to be a skater. She and my wife watch every time there’s a competition on television.”
“A damn good reason not to get married,” Cassidy said. “Give me a beer and a football game.”
Manny grinned. “That good-ole-boy act might play with others, not me. I happen to know you go to the opera.”
“Spread it around and I’ll ask for another partner.”
“No one else would have you.”
“True,” Cassidy said good-naturedly as he increased the length of his stride.
“Hey, Hoppy, slow up. I’m a short, fat guy.”
Cassidy grinned at that. Manny was Lebanese, and he was a short guy. Thick, too. But it was mostly muscle. Cassidy had no complaints with either his speed or ability, nor with his street smarts. Manny was, quite simply, the best partner he’d ever had.
He did not slow his stride, however. He’d been after the Rose Killer for eight months. Four prostitutes had been killed, a rose left at their side. Cassidy took it as a personal insult that the perp continued to kill at will. He had an insidious thought: now that someone other than a prostitute had been targeted, maybe he could finally get the resources he needed.
He slowed his stride until Manny could match it. “Tell me more about her,” he said.
“She’s beautiful,” Manny said. “I’ve watched her skate. She’s a true athlete.”
