Terms of Engagement
Kylie Brant
www.millsandboon.co.uk
MILLS & BOON
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Table of Contents
Cover Page
Title Page
About the Author
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Copyright
KYLIE BRANT is an award-winning author of twenty-two novels. When shes not dreaming up stories of romance and suspense, she works as an elementary teacher for learning-disabled students. Kylie has dealt with her newly empty nest by filling the house with even more books and wont be satisfied until those five vacant bedrooms are full of them!
Kylie invites readers to check out her website at www. kyliebrant.com. You can contact her by writing to PO Box 231, Charles City, IA 50616, USA or e-mailing her at kyliebrant@hotmail.com.
In loving memory of my cousin Cheryl, who touched my life and will always live on in my heart.
Acknowledgements:
A special thanks to the amazing Kyle Hiller, Captain, Special Response Team, for taking the time to share your knowledge through your invaluable responses. Your generosity is so greatly appreciated.
Chapter One
She wasnt a stickler for holiday traditions, but this was just wrong.
Lindsay Bradford pushed aside the sagging string of plastic mistletoe that hung just inside the Blue Lagoons doorway, only to see a half-naked, drunken Santa seated next to the jukebox. She gave serious consideration to heading back to her apartment. The bar was packed. No one had noticed her yet. If she ducked out now, Dace and Jolie would just give her a hard time tomorrow and that would be the end of it. There was nothing worse than being the last to arrive at a Christmas party, anyway.
Especially a party comprised mostly of cops.
Not for the first time, she questioned the wisdom of coming here tonight. Just the thought of being surrounded by a bunch of off-duty policemen had her palms dampening. The fact that the only two friends shed made in Metro City had turned out to be detectives was the height of irony. But there was a limit to her appreciation for the ironic.
Some fool saw fit to provide drunk Santa with a mike. If that wasnt a sign, nothing was. She backed slowly toward the door.
All you lovely ladies out there, he boomed in a surprisingly sexy baritone, cmon up here and see me. Dont be shy. If youve been nice girls all year, Ive got something for you. And if youre on my naughty list He gave an exaggerated wink, eliciting hoots from the audience. Cmon up here and sit on Santas lap.
Lindsay rolled her eyes at the feminine squeals of laughter. Several women obviously lacking in discrimination and good taste accepted the invitation and made their way to the dance floor. She took this as her cue to leave.
She wasnt feeling particularly festive, anyway. The palm trees wrapped in rope lighting that lined the California streets didnt evoke the same holiday sentiment as did a decorated, freshly cut pine.
And how incongruous that her longing for home was never so strong as during the holidays. The same time of year shed chosen to leave Wisconsin and her family behind.
Turning, she headed for the door. But her exit didnt go unnoticed.
Lindsay! Hey, Lindsay!
Uh-oh. Busted.
Lindsay! Over here!
As she recognized the voice, her stomach dropped. Pasting a plastic smile on her face, she turned to see a disjointed arm waving from a corner booth nearby. It was attached to Mitch Engels, a coworker from the restaurant. Great. She could do drunk or she could do crazy. She wasnt sure she was up to dealing with both.
Resigned, she walked over to his booth, where, unsurprisingly, he was sitting alone.
So dya hear what happened? He slurred the words as he attempted to smooth his thinning brown hair. Cant believe it. Neldstroms such a bastard. Hate that bastard so much.
Havent heard anything, she answered truthfully. Shed worked her shift and headed home for a quick shower and change to avoid arriving here awash in eau de fry grease. But she wasnt especially eager to get deluged with the latest in the ongoing battle between Mitch and the restaurant owner.
He fired me! Said Id missed too many shifts. Mitch hiccuped wetly. Didnt even care Id been sick. That I need the job. He just took me off the schedule and said I was done. At the holidays, too. The bastard.
Drunken Santa began an off-tune rendition of Blue Christmas. And Lindsay was definitely feeling bluer than she had when she arrived.
Im sorry about that, Mitch. Really. If anyone epitomized victim, it was Mitch Engels. He was short, plump and prematurely balding, with pale blue eyes magnified by thick, horn-rimmed glasses. He was a nice enough guy, if something of an odd duck. Many at work gave him a wide berth, but Lindsay had always felt sorry for him. She was intimately aware of how it felt to not fit in. If you need help looking for another job