One Night With You: A Fatal Series Prequel Novella (The Fatal Series) (8 page)

“You’ll have to tell me all about him.”

“I’ll tell you the PG parts after work,” she said with a wink. “Right now, I gotta get going.” She downed the coffee and rinsed the mug. On the way out of the kitchen, she caught him watching her with an odd expression on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Okay, then. Talk to you later.” Sam ran upstairs to get changed before the coffee date with her dad. She wondered if he’d be able to tell that something momentous had happened to her since they’d seen each other the day before. Of course he’d be able to tell. He read her like the proverbial book.

For once, she didn’t care if her dad knew something she’d prefer to keep private—for now, anyway. Nick had made her giddy with excitement, and she had no idea how she’d survive for four whole weeks until she could see him again.

Thanks for reading
One Night With You
! I hope you enjoyed this look into that “memorable” night Sam and Nick have often referred to in the subsequent Fatal Series novels. Readers have been asking for this story since
Fatal Affair
was released in 2010, so it’s a thrill for me to finally have written that story. It was a trip for me to go back to before
Fatal Affair
to write about the first time Sam and Nick met and the amazing first night they spent together. Knowing what was ahead for them, it was both bittersweet and exciting to write that special night and to witness the intense connection they shared from the first minute they met. It was crazy to see Skip Holland before he was a quadriplegic and to meet Sam and Nick when they were still on the way up in their careers.

Join the
Fatal Series Reader Group
to connect with other fans of the series and the
One Night With You Reader Group
to discuss this novella. Much more to come from D.C. so make sure you’re on the newsletter mailing list at
marieforce.com
to never miss a book!
Join Marie’s postal mailing list
to receive her holiday card as well as other postcards throughout the year. And remember to leave a review on
Goodreads
to help other readers discover Sam and Nick and their extended family. Thanks again for your lovely reviews for this series!

With books 8 and 9 out this year and book 10 coming in 2016, I’m looking forward to many more exciting stories in the Fatal Series! Thanks for coming along on this ride with Sam and Nick!

A special thank you to my HTJB team: Julie Cupp, Lisa Cafferty, Holly Sullivan, Isabel Sullivan, Nikki Colquhoun and Cheryl Serra for all they do to make my life easier, as well as my husband, Dan, who runs our lives so I can write. Thank you to Kristina Brinton for the amazing cover for
One Night With You
, Linda Ingmanson for copy editing and Joyce Lamb for proofreading. It’s a pleasure to work with all of you! To everyone at Carina Press and Harlequin, thank you for your amazing support of the Fatal Series.

 
In other series news, 
Fatal Affair
and
Fatal Justice
were released with all new covers in May 2015. Coming next are 
Fatal Consequences/Fatal Destiny
and
Fatal Flaw
in June;
Fatal Deception
in July;
Fatal Mistake
in August; and
Fatal Jeopardy
in September. Early next year watch for
Fatal Scandal
and Book 9,
Fatal Frenzy
. By mid-2016 when Book 10 is released, the mass-market paperback will be released simultaneously with the ebook.

As always, a huge thank you the readers who support me and my books with such enthusiasm and love. I appreciate you all more than you’ll ever know!

xoxo

Marie

Turn the page for a sneak peek at
Fatal Frenzy
, Book 9 in the Fatal Series, out on September 15, 2015. ***Warning: if you haven’t yet read Book 8, Fatal Scandal, this excerpt contains spoilers. Please read Scandal before you read the excerpt.***

Fatal Frenzy

Fatal Series Book 9

Chapter 1

“I don’t want to be here.” Surrounded by familiar buff-colored cinderblock walls, Sam felt claustrophobic and panicky. Even the burnt-coffee smell of the place nauseated her. She needed to get out of there. Now.

“Sam.”

She glanced at Dr. Tucci, who gazed intently at her, his gray eyes never wavering. His hair had gotten thinner since the last time she was forced to spend time with him, after young Quentin Johnson died at the hands of her officers in his father’s crack house.
 

“What?”

“I can’t clear you to go back to work until you talk about it.”

“What’s there to talk about? I did a stupid thing, and I paid the price. Should I have gone in there alone? No. I know that. I knew it then, but I had no reason to suspect that Marissa Springer was going to turn into a murdering lunatic or that she’d partnered up with Stahl. As far as I knew she was a grieving mother, a disgruntled wife and a source of information.” Sam shrugged. “There. I talked about it. Can I go now?”

He continued to stare at her without blinking. How did he do that? Everyone needed to blink once in a while, didn’t they? Perhaps one of the job requirements for being a police department shrink was a freakish staring ability.

She shifted in her seat, crossed her legs and then her arms. “What else do you want me to say?”

“I want to hear about what happened with Stahl. How you coped during the assault. What you’re thinking about now. How you’re sleeping. You could start by telling me what it was like to be wrapped in razor wire by a man you once reported to.”

“It was sharp.”

Tucci finally blinked—and sighed—deeply. “Maybe we should reschedule for next week.”

“Next week is kind of busy. The inauguration and all that.”

“Are you aware of that your squad is frantically trying to find the person responsible for a series of knife attacks?”

For the first time she felt a twinge of guilt at letting down her closest colleagues. “Yes, I’m aware of that.” The city was on edge after a series of brazen and seemingly random attacks that had left two people dead and five others badly injured. Sam was sorry she wasn’t able to help this time, but she couldn’t single-handedly catch every killer who roamed the city’s streets.

“Do you
want
to come back to work, Sam?”

“Yes! Of course I do. What kind of question is that?” Her heart began to race at how close he’d come to uncovering her recent anxiety about work and safety and the loss of her famous mojo. It would come back. Eventually. It had to come back. Didn’t it? Who was she without it?

“It’s an honest question. You’ve been in this game long enough to know that if you don’t
play
the game, you remain on the sidelines. I can’t clear you to come back until I’m certain you’ve dealt with the trauma of what happened and are in the right place mentally, physically and emotionally to resume your duties.”

Sam was never more mulish than when pushed into a corner, and now was no different. “How am I supposed to prove to you that I’m fine?”

“You have to talk about it.”

“What if I don’t want to talk about it? What if talking about it makes it worse?”

“Have you talked to anyone? Your husband? Your friends, colleagues, your dad, sisters? Anyone?”

“Yeah, I’ve talked to them,” she said, squirming again. She hated the feeling that he saw right through her bullshit, the way Nick did, too. He’d been watching her like a hawk recently—to the point that she’d been actively avoiding her overly devoted husband for the first time ever.

Sam knew she wouldn’t get away with that for much longer, and Tucci wasn’t about to buckle either. “I’d like to leave now.”

“No one is forcing you to be here.”

She gave him her best “yeah right” look. Did he actually think any cop saw him voluntarily?

“You know what I mean. This process is on your schedule. When you’re ready, make an appointment. I’m here for you whenever you need me.”

With the lure of freedom in her reach, Sam began to stand.

“Before you go, though…”

Foiled, she sagged back into the uncomfortable hardback chair.

“I want to say one thing.” Tucci cleared his throat and seemed to force himself to look at her. What was that about? “I read the report on what happened that day at the Springers’ house, and I just want to say… I’ve been doing this for a long time, and what happened to you… Well, it was bad, Sam. Really bad. And there’s no shame in admitting that you’re traumatized by it, that maybe you’ve lost your taste for the job, that—”

“No,” she said, leaping to her feet. “Whatever you’re going to say, just save it. I’m fine. I haven’t lost my taste for anything except for this meeting. Some people don’t feel the need to air out all their shit in some touchy-feely room where it’s supposedly
safe
to spill their guts. We aren’t safe anywhere. That’s the lesson learned here.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” he said with a small, satisfied grin that infuriated her. “Call me when you’re ready to talk about why you don’t feel safe anywhere.”

Pissed with herself and with him, Sam stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind her.
 
She was on her way to a clean escape when Captain Malone waylaid her, taking her by the arm and escorting her into his office where she shook him off. “You need a refresher in sensitivity training if you think you can manhandle your female officers that way.”

“So report me.”

“What do you want?”

“Nice to see you, too, Lieutenant. We’ve missed your charming self around here.”

Sam rolled her eyes. Charming. Whatever. “Is there something you need?”

“Have a seat.”

“I prefer to stand.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

Since he so rarely pulled rank on her, she dropped into the chair he pointed to and crossed her arms again, keeping with the mulish theme of the day.
 

“How’ve you been?”

“Great. You?”

“I’m down one of my best officers, so things have been a little hectic, especially since someone is going around killing people with a hunting knife. But we’re coping.”

She refused to feel guilty about sitting this one out. Her team was highly trained, and they’d figure it out. They always did. “Glad to hear it.”

“How’s it going with Tucci?”

“You’re not allowed to ask me that.”

“Add it to the report you’re going to submit on my bad behavior.”

“I have been attending the appointments as required. Would you like me to tell you what we talk about in there? It would only take a minute. Probably less than a minute.”

Malone sat back in his chair, exhaling loudly. “So you’re not cooperating.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Don’t you want to get back to work?”

Sam shrugged. “I’m kinda enjoying the time off. I like taking my kid to school, even if the Secret Service has to butt into our time together, and taking my dad to his appointments and hanging out with my husband and cleaning my house.”

Malone sat up straight, his eyes wide with alarm. “You’re
cleaning
your house? What the hell is wrong with you, Holland? You’d rather be cleaning your house than chasing down murderers? Things are worse than we thought.”

“We? Who’s we?”

“All of us! We’re wondering what the hell is going on with you and why you don’t seem to have any desire to come back to work. Every other time something crazy has happened, we’ve had to practically lock you to your sofa. But not this time. This time something’s different.”