DEADLY BEGINNINGS (Deadly Prequel) Now Available!!!
Before the sexy Kinncaid Brothers there was Jock Kinncaid, the charismatic patriarch to the Kinncaid family, and Kaitlyn O’Reilly, the woman who captured his heart forever.
Kaitlyn O’Reilly, an RN, believed she’d found love with the charming and well-liked surgeon she’d met at work. Landon Goldburg was kind, attentive, and she thought they had so much in common. Now engaged, the good doctor has quickly become the man of her nightmares. As he grows more controlling and violent, Kaitlyn wants her freedom.
Jock Kinncaid can’t stop thinking about the quietly beautiful—and engaged—redhead he met at a fund-raising gala months ago. He knows a spitfire lurks beneath the surface of this woman who’s invaded his dreams, and he knows she’s exactly what’s been missing from his otherwise ideal life. When a chance meeting throws the two of them together again, Jock swears he won’t let her get away this time.
But even as Jock vows to protect the woman he loves and Kaitlyn struggles to trust Jock and the passion between them, the deranged doctor is bent on destroying them both, even if it means killing the only thing he loves.
Read below for an Excerpt
Why did they always think they could get away?
They never did. The poor stupid souls always, always thought they could or would eventually escape. From the very beginning, to the very end.
Something, someone was going to save them.
There was nothing to save her.
To save the others.
He knew what he wanted, he always knew exactly how he wanted things and he got them.
Her footsteps sounded down the hardwood floor to the door at the end.
Which was locked. The door was always locked. She really should know better.
“Haven’t you learned yet?” he asked her softly as he followed her, not in any hurry. He pulled the syringe from his pocket, filled it with air. “You had your chance.”
She beat against the door, weakened even though she was. He hadn’t fed her in days, she needed a lesson.
Not that she learned it. They never learned.
He only asked for perfection.
Nothing more. Nothing less. All she had to do was follow the rules. His rules. It wasn’t that hard, not that difficult.
“Please,” she begged as she sagged against the door and turned to him. The white gown she wore was plastered to her body, her hair lank and dull. She’d been beautiful once.
Now she was simply . . . ordinary.
“Shhhh,” he told her, coming closer, watching her light blue eyes.
The eyes always told the truth.
“It’ll be over soon.”
Her whimpers filled the air, the scent of her fear annoying him.
“Why do you always fear me? It’s simple really. Follow the rules, be what I know you are capable of and things would be fine. But no, you have to be stubborn. You are always so damned stubborn,” he chided. “Too bad. Your choice.”
He stopped just in front of her and brushed her hair off her face. “Look how you’ve let yourself go.” He tsked.
The pulse in her neck fluttered to the point that he reached out and ran his finger down it. He’d kissed her there, tasted her there. When she’d taken care of herself.
He traced the maddened heartbeat just beneath her skin, ran his finger over her shoulder, down her left arm to the hand. He carefully lifted it and stared at the solitaire diamond still on her finger. Then again, it would still be on her finger. She’d taken it off once and he’d taught her a lesson. She’d learned not to take if off again. It had taken weeks for the bruises to heal. Maybe he’d been a bit hard on her. She’d never been the same after that.
“Please, please let me go. I’ll be good. I’ll be what you want. I-I can. I-I-I know I can. P-please,” she begged.
He rather hated when they begged. Begging was beneath the woman he wanted.
“I didn’t take it off,” she continued. “I didn’t.”
“Shhhh.” He held her hand up. “You really don’t want to marry me, do you? You’d rather be free,” he stated quietly. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” He tried to calm her. It was always easier if they were calm. When they fought back, it always made it more difficult and he usually got dirty.
He hated being dirty. He hated when they were dirty.
There was no call for that if calm and reason achieved the same results.
And in the end, the results would be the same.
“I know you want to go. I know you want to leave. I’ll let you go.” He continued to brush her hair back.
She relaxed further.
“R-really? You’re going to let me go? You don’t want to marry me anymore?” she whispered.
He shook his head. “I’ve decided we won’t suit.”
Her gaze locked on him, she never saw the syringe he held. Didn’t even shift when he stepped closer into her body so she was pinned against the door.
He shoved the needle into her jugular and depressed it, emptying the air into her bloodstream.
Her brows furrowed and she gasped, bucked.
He watched, her eyes locked to his, even as her body jerked. He waited until her heart stopped. Until her eyes lost their life.
There were those whom he knew would argue with him, but if you watched closely enough, you could watch the soul leave through the eyes.
“Shhhh . . .” he kept telling her.
When she was still, when he knew she was dead, he shifted her to the floor. He worked the ring off her finger and held it up.
Then he looked down at the woman at his feet. “You just won’t do as my wife. I’ve found someone better.” He kissed the ring. “To new beginnings.”
He smiled even as he worked to get rid of the body, as he drove her out to the bay. This was getting old.
But this time . . . this time he knew it would work. This time he’d found her.
There she was. The woman he was going to marry.
Her red hair was pulled severely if neatly back from her face, and what a beautiful face it was. Perfectly sloped nose, eyes a bit wide-set and slanted. He’d bet green.
Jock Kinncaid ignored the conversation going on around him but nodded and made appropriate noises. The guy was a bore, some doctor or other who was completely full of himself.
The people were here to write checks for whatever cause was deemed important by the evening, or rather whoever was hosting this event.
At least the food wasn’t half bad.
He pulled at his collar and watched her as the doctor made some sort of motion and Jock’s woman came over.
Jock watched her. Her long black gown draped over her perfectly, yet it seemed too harsh for some reason. Wrong.
She was still beautiful.
And she did have freckles, across the bridge of her nose, on her neck, her collarbone.
He caught something flash through—he was right—amazing green eyes as she walked closer, though he almost missed it.
The doctor waited until she joined the group and then he leaned down and said something in her ear. She stilled and looked down.
The doctor then commenced answering another man’s question while he ignored the beautiful redhead.
What. The. Hell.
The band started up a song.
One Jock liked.
Well, if the doctor didn’t give her attention, Jock would take care of that.
He reached his hand out to the lovely woman.
“May I have this dance?”
She looked at his hand, her eyes meeting his on a quick blink before she looked up at the doctor.
The man beside the doctor leaned in and whispered, “Kinncaid.”
Jock didn’t smile. “A woman as beautiful as you hardly needs anyone’s permission.”
Her eyes widened as she quickly met his stare.
Jock had been born with a name, one he’d always respected and one he garnered respect for. Mainly, he knew, people just wanted his money.
The doctor nodded and said to the woman, “Don’t go far.”
She swallowed and Jock took her hand, placing it on his arm, and led her to the dance floor where others had already gathered. He felt her fingers’ slight tremble. Was she afraid to dance with him?
The trumpet sounded.
He wished Louis Armstrong were singing this.
“So, you enjoying this party?” he asked. Probably not with the doctor who was full of himself.
She looked up at him, her eyes darting to the side.
Jock laughed and twirled her to the music.
“What is this song?” she asked him, smiling shyly up at him.
“This song? You don’t know?”
“‘A Kiss to Build a Dream On.’” He sang a few words of it.
Her brows arched.
Her gloved hand slid against his palm as he turned them in another circle, a bit farther away from the watching doctor.
Her left hand held in his right, he could easily feel the ring on her finger.
Her eyes rose to his, wide. “Do you ask all your dancing partners that question?”
“Only the ones whom I want to keep dancing with.”
She took a deep breath. “No.”
“No? The ring?” He rubbed his fingers over the back of hers, on the ring beneath the long white gloves.
“It’s his.” She glanced to the side of them.
“Ah. Soon to be Dr. and Mrs.—”
“Oh, trouble in paradise. I’d say I’m sorry, but my parents taught me not to lie. So in that case, run away with me. I’ll make you smile. I’ll make you laugh. We’ll get into all sorts of trouble,” he told her, leaning close and whispering in her ear.
She smiled and pulled back, the smile dancing into her eyes, or almost. She pulled farther back. “You are probably enough trouble all on your own, Kinncaid, you don’t need my help.”
“You know my name. I have hope.” He twirled them again. “So do you have one?”
“A name.” He grinned.
“Most people have them, yes.”
She grinned a one-sided, one-dimpled grin at him. “What’s the fun in giving you all the answers?”
He chuckled. “Ah, so it begins.”
Her lips pursed. “Maybe.”