For Love or Honor

By Melissa Schroeder

Trusting a man with your life is always easier than trusting him with your heart.
Del Littleton is having a bad month. Three jobs have gone south and the last one went sour with a dead body. It doesn’t help that Dylan O’Farrell, the federal agent who has been making her life hell for months is the one who finds her. The worst part is that even though she feels like smacking the cocky agent upside the head, she also wants to get him in bed.

Dylan knows Del is being set up. She isn’t the best bounty hunter out there, but she isn’t stupid. Before he can figure it out, they find themselves on the run, trying to protect Del from an unknown enemy. Spending time together nonstop causes the passion they’ve kept under wraps to explode.

Dealing with the emotions that bubble to the surface is harder than dealing with than that threat to Del’s life. And when they find themselves both in the crosshairs, trusting each other isn’t just about love…it’s about survival.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryant Street Publishing
• Release date: Mar 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9781094439341

Melissa Schroeder

From an early age, USA Today Bestselling author Melissa loved to read. First, it was the books her mother read to her including her two favorites, Winnie the Pooh and the Beatrix Potter books. She cut her preteen teeth on Trixie Belden and read and reviewed To Kill a Mockingbird in middle school. It wasn’t until she was in college that she tried to write her first stories, which were full of angst and pain, and really not that fun to read or write. After trying several different genres, she found romance in a Linda Howard book. Since her first published book, Grace Under Pressure, Mel has had over 60 short stories, novellas, and novels published. She has written in genres ranging from historical to contemporary to futuristic and has worked with 8 publishers although she handles most of her publishing herself. She is best known for her Harmless and Santini series. After years of following her military husband around the country and world, Mel happily lives with her family in horse and wine country in Northern Virginia.

Book preview

Chapter One

Del Littleton didn’t like when jobs went sour. She’d had three go south in just the last month and Peter had threatened to fire her if screwed up this one. Finding her latest collar lying in a pool of his own blood, two days gone, would not help matters. Frank Totter wouldn’t be able to testify in court.

She particularly didn’t like when Dylan O’Farrell was the reason it went bad. There he stood, a smug smile tilting his lips and all she could think of was smacking the bastard. That, and jumping his bones. Both would probably have the desired effect—he’d be pissed.

What the holy hades are you doing here, O’Farrell? This is my collar and the Sumarian Sector is out of your jurisdiction. She pulled her Barracuda 911 out of her side holster for good measure.

His smile widened, his green eyes twinkled, and a zing of heat flashed through her. Dammit. When would this insane attraction to him dissipate?

I had a tip that I might find you here.

Really? She didn’t try to hide the sarcasm. It would mask the fear that was curdling in her stomach. Just who the hell had told O’Farrell about this? Chase

"Really. You seem to be having a run of bad luck, Littleton. He walked into the dingy hotel room. His long, easy strides reminded her of a lion pacing a cage. O’Farrell was a big hungry predator looking for someone to eat. First there was that shoot out in the Edidetion Sector."

I was cleared. You know that because you did the investigation.

He nodded as he prowled the room, not touching anything but looking for clues. It pissed her off. It didn’t matter that she normally did the same thing. She felt invaded.

He glanced back over his shoulder and offered her a smile with those trademark dimples. Then there was that woman you brought in who turned out to be the wrong collar.

Exasperation had her barely containing her growl. Twin. A twin. How was I to know?

He nodded and went back to his inspection. Then there was that incident with the agent.

The anger that had been rolling beneath the surfaced threatened to explode. She took a few deep breaths then said, from behind clenched teeth, "Holy hades. Vicentes is a pain in the ass. And that was my collar, not his."

He slanted her a look out of the corner of his eye, then continued to look at the contents of Totter’s suitcase. She hadn’t touched anything when she entered. She hadn’t had the time. Just long enough to find Totter and wonder who in hades had a hard-on for her. Nerves turned into outright panic. Someone had to be setting her up, but she couldn’t figure out why.

Vicentes is a pal of mine. The Irish lilt in O’Farrell’s voice brought her out of her thoughts. And he said that you fucked that one up yourself.

She had, but she refused to admit it. Confessing she’d been wrong would make her look weak. And that was one thing she didn’t want to do to in front of O’Farrell. She studied her nemesis as he continued his search. Tall, probably about six foot, O’Farrell was known for his way with women. His reputation for bagging just about every available gorgeous agent was legendary. With those mischievous green eyes and that dark red hair, he was hard to resist. Add in his athletic build and toe tingling smile, and he was delicious with a capital D. It was said he could charm a nun into bed. And, knowing him, he had done that once or twice. She apparently was the only woman he hadn’t tried to seduce. Each time they’d met over the last few years, they’d been at each other’s throats.

So, you just happen to be in the area, and decided to pop in and see how I was doing on my job?

He didn’t turn around. No. I told you. Someone tipped me off.

She shook her head as she sorted through what she knew about Totter and who was after him. Someone called and said you would find Totter dead?

No. He sighed, a sound filled with resignation and irritation, and turned to face her. They called and said that you would be found with the body and the weapon.

What? she said, but she could barely hear the word over the roaring in her ears. What the in holy hades was happening?

Littleton? He waited until she looked up at him. Concern and empathy filled his gaze and fear lanced through her. If O’Farrell was worried and showing any kind of empathy, it was really, really bad.

Spit it out, she said.

He sighed again. They said you killed him for a price.

Dylan almost rushed forward when all the color drained out of Littleton’s face. She’d probably smack him upside the head or hit him in the bollocks for trying to help. The woman was prickly, that was for sure, but he should have never blurted it out that way.

What do you mean? Her voice was hoarse.

Damn. He didn’t like this. As much as he would like to get Littleton out of the retrieval business, Dylan didn’t want her going to jail. She was a hothead, a pain the ass, packed into a tight, athletic little body. She didn’t belong in the business any more that he belonged at a tea party.

I had a call. Told me I would find you here. Dead collar, you killed him.

She eyed him, then looked down at Totter. He’s been gone for two days at least.

Dylan was thinking the same thing. She might have a temper that got her