That Perfect Moment

She squealed, but his lips were against hers in a kiss so hungry he thought he might have hurt her. He tried to pull away, but her arms went around his neck, and she held on to him. “You’d better not start something and not finish,” she whispered.

“I wouldn’t think of it.”

He pulled the pins from her hair and pitched them onto the floor. “Zachary,” she protested lightly, “I need those for later.”

“Too bad,” he said as he pulled the last one from the bun, and then he unwound it and let the soft strands of hair spiral into his palm. Kim let her head fall back and he drove his fingers through her hair from her scalp all the way to the soft ends. She purred and he bit her neck. Kim dissolved in his arms, curling into him. “You’re going to make me be very bad, Zach,” she said, her mouth against his neck where she licked him.

“Baby, sometimes, bad is good.”

CARMEN GREEN

was born in Buffalo, New York, and had plans to study law before becoming a published author. While raising her three children, she wrote her first book on legal pads and transcribed it onto a computer on weekends before selling it in 1993. Since that time, she has sold more than thirty novels and novellas, and is proud that one of her books was made into a TV movie in 2001, Commitments, in which she had a cameo role.

In addition to writing full-time, Carmen is now a mom of four and lives in the Southeast. You can contact Carmen at www.carmengreen.blogspot.com or carmengreen1201@yahoo.com.

That Perfect Moment

Carmen Green

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

That Perfect Moment is dedicated to

Trevor Malcolm McCray for being an ardent supporter

forever. And to the sparrow for always having my back.

I miss you.

Dear Reader,

The Hoods are the best, aren’t they? I wanted to create a family of men and women who worked hard at being good and doing good for everyone. They are the law and order we dream about—upstanding people who would risk their lives for what’s right—and they’re sexy, too. What an awesome combination.

I hope you enjoy Zach Hood’s story. He’s so easy to fall in love with.

Thinking of you,

Carmen Green

Thank you to The Art Institute of Atlanta-Decatur

Fashion Department, most especially Tonya Felton

and Chanel Thorpe for making me look wonderful

for my photo shoot. Also, special thanks to

Professor Courtney Hammond for all his sage advice.

To my photographer, Marie Williams of Top Studios,

I very much appreciate your ability to make me

look so wonderful. To my family: Jeremy, Danielle

and Christina, my parents, and brothers and sisters,

always amazing, always in my heart. Finally, to the

team of doctors, nurses and everyone else who put me

back together again, and continue to work with me,

I thank you all so very much for everything.

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 1

Everyone in the courtroom waited in tense anticipation of the sentence Judge Kimberly Thurman was about to hand down to the serial carjacking teenager who’d had no regard for his victims. She referred to the paperwork in front of her, then asked the impudent defendant to stand.

Security specialist and part owner of Hood Investigations Incorporated, Zachary Hood sat in the last row of the gallery of the nearly empty courtroom and watched the judge’s reaction to the young man. With her hands folded, she leaned forward, her shoulders making her robe look stately, as she ignored his insolence. Her hair, which he knew was long and straight, had been pulled into a tight bun, accenting a regal face, allowing long platinum earrings to highlight her beauty. Her eyelashes were long and black, and fanned defined cheekbones that had been subtly dusted with bronzer.

Zach noticed every detail. His job was to miss nothing, and he took pride in it. His attention was brought back to the young defendant as the judge waited for him to finish adopting his wide-legged—head cocked to the side—stance of defiance. She didn’t even bother to comment when he intentionally smacked his hands together in front of himself as a general sign of disrespect to her, and the court.

The male deputies showed more annoyance than she. “Thaddeus Drake Baxter,” the judge began with a firm tone. “The sentencing recommendation of eighteen months in jail with six months for time served has been rejected by the court. You are hereby sentenced to seventeen years in prison to be served at a state facility to be determined by the State of Georgia Department of Corrections. This sentence is to be served concurrently.” The judge then read several case numbers to the clerk of the court, and the year breakdown for each violation.

She then looked Thaddeus Drake Baxter in the eye, and that’s when Zachary saw a flicker of regret. It was there and gone so fast, but he knew he hadn’t missed it.

“This is the judgment of the court, so say we one and all.”

The defendant’s family reacted with screams of protest. “For carjacking? That’s insane,” his mother wailed. The rest of the family sobbed. Four Baxter men glared at her, one shouting profanely.

The gavel’s sharp rap against the pad caught everyone’s attention. “Quiet in the courtroom!” The judge’s calm demeanor vanished. The gripped gavel was pointed directly at the family. “The evidence was presented and a verdict delivered. You knew this day was coming, Mrs. Baxter. The citizens of this state and the court system did what you weren’t able to do—control your son. He won’t hurt another woman for a very long time, if ever again.”

The stunningly beautiful judge peered over the bench at the large male members of the Baxter clan and didn’t flinch.

Every male in a position of authority was poised to protect the judge, although she seemed able to handle herself. Still, Zach, himself, would have vaulted seven rows to subdue the Baxter men.

“This is wrong, dead wrong,” the largest of the uncles said. His face in profile, he looked more feral than the rest of them. The elder Baxter looked like he’d raised hell in his day, and had matched it blow for agonizing blow. A healed wound was etched into his face like Interstate 75 was in Georgia’s highway infrastructure. His nose had been broken several times, and his dark eyes were flat. His face showed the knocks and bruises of a man who hadn’t ever been able to control himself; he still lacked that ability.

He stood in the second row, but leaned over the back of the first row as if that would get him closer to the judge. “You gon’ get—” he threatened.

The judge banged the gavel, cutting him off just as a deputy wrenched the man’s arm behind his back, slapping the cuffs onto his wrist in a quick move. Out of instinct, Zach had risen and advanced.

Baxter’s roar of pain was that of a lion, and it cut through the silence in the courtroom.

The judge was the only one who spoke. “If you finish that sentence, you will be arrested and charged with threatening an officer of the court, and making terroristic threats.” Her eyebrow inched up and Baxter blew air through his nose.

“Your bail will be set at two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars. When you are convicted, you will serve day for day of your sentence in a federal prison. Now that you fully understand the implications of your words, Mr. Baxter, do you have anything else you’d like to say to me?”

Zach had moved against the wall, and while he didn’t have his gun, he didn’t feel he needed it in a room full of sheriff deputies and Baxter men. It would be a brawl if they started anything. The family looked that unpredictable. Baxter’s teeth were bared as he glared at her, his family stunned and quiet. The hell seeped out of him like sweat off moist skin. His brother reached back and pulled him by the middle of his shirt, and gave a stilted nod of apology to the judge.

The deputy who had detained Baxter looked at the judge and she gave a barely noticeable signal to release him. The family quietly left the courtroom.

Amazed that the man had even tried to disrespect the judge in that manner, Zach turned his attention back to the defendant. His posture of bravado was gone, and he was now a lost nineteen-year-old, leaning on his attorney, sobbing. The young man was led away, the tension, however, taking longer to dissipate.

Despite being thirty-four, two years his senior, the judge looked younger than her years. Zach didn’t think Judge Thurman remembered meeting him at the four-day course he’d taught on safety for members of the High Court. That conference had been two years ago. At that time she’d been vehemently opposed to judges carrying weapons, but that had been before the Courthouse Shooter had struck Atlanta, Georgia. Today, Judge Thurman looked like she could handle anything thrown her way. He slid open the paper he’d received and read it again. Someone is trying to kill me. I need your help. Obviously, she was in trouble.

The judge dismissed court, and everyone stood until she left the bench. An aide led Zach to her outer office and he sat, taking everything in. The double glass doors leading to her inner sanctum could be accessed by an electronic key card. The simplicity of the outer office appealed to him. There were only two assistant’s desks, with visitor’s chairs that were placed ten feet away from the desks, for privacy’s sake.

Zach waited, his thoughts returning to the judge. He could see why someone would want to kill her, but he couldn’t imagine anyone being bad enough to try. Excitement coursed through his body like an energy drink, and he welcomed the adrenaline. This feeling didn’t happen often and when it did, he took notice. He was going to win this account, but first he had to hear what the judge had to say.

Zach stood just as the door opened. “The judge will see you now.”

Chapter 2

Judge Kimberly Thurman made being a Superior Court judge look sexy as she sat in her office on Courtland Street in Atlanta, Georgia. There was no boxy brown desk, with the obligatory picture frames of cats or kids covering the wooden space. Her desk was made of clear beveled green glass, accented with a computer that was built into the flat surface. The judge sat cozily on a sofa of Italian leather in an alcove in front of a window so she could catch the soft afternoon sunlight.

Zach was escorted in by her assistant Clark. “Your Honor? Do you mind moving over here?” Zach asked. If there was a threat against her, he wanted her to live long enough to tell him about it. Sitting by the window as she was, she was in a direct firing path should a sniper choose to access the roof of the building across the street. It didn’t matter that the building was police headquarters. Anything was possible.

“I’m glad you’re taking my concerns so seriously. Do you think someone is out there now?” The judge stood and moved.

“Having you move is just a precaution. Finding out would be my business. I don’t know if you remember me. We met at the four-day Symposium on Judges’ Safety two years ago. Hood’s position was that judges needed self-defense training and to improve safety in your travels from work and home. Your families needed to be more aware of safety issues, also.”

Loneliness lifted her lips in a soft tilt as she brushed her fingers against her cheek. “I remember you. I was opposed to judges carrying guns on the bench. My views have changed, given the events that have taken place in our city. The self-defense course you taught got all the female judges talking.”

Zach chuckled. “Did it?”

“Yes, sir, it most certainly did.” She smiled back. “That’s when I checked out Hood Investigations. Your outfit was hired because it was an impartial third party. A couple years ago, there was a big murder case, and members of our elite police units were going before several of us judges. Officers were put in jail, and Atlanta was thrust into the national spotlight.

“When the symposium came about, they decided against using our own officers for training because they didn’t want to mix our police with the judges. They didn’t want there to be even the hint of impropriety. For the record, I’ve taken concerns about my safety to the chief twice, and he’s all but patted me on the head and told me to go away. I’m not begging him to help me. Once I knew Hood was a legitimate security company and that your success rate was one hundred percent, I wanted to hire you.”

“I remember you from self-defense class. You beat the hell out of my dummy.”

Kim burst out laughing. “That’s what he was there for.”

Zach nodded, relaxing a bit, thinking back. “We met again six months ago, Judge.”

Kim thought for a moment. “I don’t recall.”

“I appeared in your courtroom.”

Her eyes clouded and disappointment crashed in like the surf. “Oh, no.”

“It’s not what you think. I wasn’t in trouble. We worked marathon court. The great Fulton County backlog.”

Kim pressed her hand to her mouth. “Oh, yes, I do remember you! What a nightmare that was. Three thousand cases. Oh, my goodness. The governor and the U.S. Attorney ordered the court system to process the cases within one month. How many fugitives did Hood bring before us?”

“We captured fifty of Atlanta’s Missing and Wanted. We didn’t sleep or eat for months before those fugitives had to appear in court. We went into hell to find those men and women.” He snapped his fingers. “I remember your hair was shorter then. You yelled at me! My fugitive was talking in court, and you thought it was me.”

They both started laughing.

Kim clasped her hands together. “I’d hoped you’d forgotten that. We were under a tremendous amount of pressure. Sorry,” she said shyly.

“No worries. You were just doing your job.”

“We all were. That’s why I called for you, Zach. If you and Hood Investigations could find fifty people who didn’t want to be found, you can find out who’s trying to kill me. Can you help me?”

His gaze met hers, and he got lost in the yearning and the question there. She wanted to live, and she needed his help.

Zach found himself looking at the judge as a woman and not a client. He focused on the carpet and realigned his thoughts. Before he did something unprofessional, he pulled out his computer. “Yes, I believe we can. Let me tell you what Hood Investigations can do for you.”

Zach pulled up the presentation that took less than ten minutes. “You would never be alone. There are four men on the team and three women. We work multiple cases, but in your case, we’d all work together due to the high priority.”

“Because of my status as a judge?”

“Yes.” Zach stopped the PowerPoint presentation from moving forward. “And, you called us. I know the marshals automatically provide security for you. But you have concerns for your safety, and that means you don’t trust them implicitly. Second, if a judge has a cause for concern, and you’re approaching Hood, you’ve gone through the regular channels and didn’t get the results you wanted. Are you concerned about people like the Baxters?”

“On a minor level, but my concern is that the threats against me may have been an ongoing thing, and we ignored the initial signs. I don’t want to sound paranoid.”

Her confidence wavered and she looked so unsure of herself. So like a vulnerable woman. For years he’d been teaching women to follow their instincts; the only thing that had kept some of them alive. He had no doubt the judge believed someone was after her. He wondered if it was true.

There was a double knock at the door and the judge’s assistant Clark walked in. Tall and well groomed, the thin man looked at his boss affectionately, then at Zach. “I had to eavesdrop on her, because I knew she wasn’t going to tell you everything.”

“What aren’t you telling me, Judge Thurman?”

“Clark, don’t make me look bad.” Even as she said the words, she made room for him on the spacious couch. He sat near her and she touched his hand.

“She’s going to get killed unless she’s honest. Mr. Hood, I insisted she contact you. I was trying to protect Judge Thurman when we were attacked one night after dance class.”

“Are you two a couple?” Zach asked, and couldn’t help frowning, because Clark seemed far more feminine than he did masculine.

Clark closed his eyes, smiled and shook his head. The judge didn’t look offended at all.

“No, but in my opinion, I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to her.”

Judge Thurman chuckled, her smile affectionate, friendly.

“That is, until someone broke my arm and I’m leaving for three weeks to Puerto Vallarta. I can’t go on vacation until I know she’s going to be taken care of.” Clark looked at her, then Zach, with real concern in his eyes. “I may joke, but I’m very serious. Someone is trying to kill her and I’m worried.”

Zach nodded. “Start at the beginning. Tell me everything.”

“The judge only has just a few outlets of relaxation. Rocking the babies at the children’s hospital, Chicago step dance classes and going up to Lake Lanier and taking out her boat. She doesn’t have a steady anybody in her life, so last summer she took sailing lessons, but this year, I’m her dance partner.”

Zach looked at the judge, who was watching Clark with a smile on her face. “Please tell all my business, Clark.”

“He’s going to know your underwear color before too long, believe me. Really, Judge, I want you to be alive when I get back. He needs to know how I feel.”

She took a deep breath and looked at Zach, who instinctively knew Clark wasn’t her attacker. His concern was genuine. “Clark’s right, Judge,” Zach said. “I’ll be your bodyguard, your best friend—your everything—before this is over. And you, me. But your secrets will always be safe with me. Finish telling me what happened, Judge.”

“Last Friday night we finished dance class about nine forty-five and stopped at Brickstone for ice cream. The next thing you know, two men grab me, and Clark starts beating them with a tire iron.”

“Was this in the parking lot? Was it before or after you came out of the ice cream store?” Zach asked, looking at Clark’s arm, then at the judge.

“After we exited.”

“Did you notice them following you?”

“No,” Clark said, looking guilty. “But we don’t pay attention like we should. Sometimes we window-shop or get our nails done. We’re really good friends as well as coworkers. We work well professionally, and the judge is a very private person. I respect that.”

Zach looked at their nails and noticed the manicures. He nodded, then shook his head. “I understand the need for discretion, but you also have to trust someone, and that’s Clark.” She nodded. “Okay,” Zach continued, “where’d the tire iron come from?”

“I keep it beneath the back of the driver’s seat. Last year a man tried to rob me outside the gym, so I keep a weapon in my car and in the judge’s car. Anyway, Friday, I got the car door open and got the tire iron, but the bigger man got it away from me. He hit me on my arm with such force, my arm broke. Luckily, I can scream pretty loudly, and the two employees that were in the ice cream store ran out. They threw chairs at the men and blew whistles. The other man who had the judge let her go, and they drove off in a green Explorer SUV.”

“Did you get a tag number?”

“I told the police in the report just SO2. That’s it. I call them every day and they tell me they have nothing.”

Zach wrote down what was said. “No other witnesses?”

“It was very near closing time and everyone was gone. There were cars passing by on the road, but it could have looked like a lovers’ quarrel.” The judge rubbed Clark’s injured arm.

“Please don’t worry about me,” she told her loyal assistant.

He smiled, but their relationship was one that was deeper than a mere office acquaintance. His genuine care had saved her life. “The ice cream store did have cameras embedded in the exterior walls. The video arrived today.”

Clark moved to get up, but she patted his arm. She went to her desk and Zach watched her move. A black sleeveless, jewel-neckline dress hugged a shapely figure that was buxom on top, just the way he liked on a woman. Gold cuffs circled her wrists, while she wore a topaz on her right ring finger. While her hair had been in a conservative bun in court, she’d taken it down in her office, and she had freshened her lipstick, adding a shiny gloss.

In court, she hadn’t smiled once, but inside the confines of the warmly appointed room with the cocoa-colored microsuede couch, red-and-sienna-colored pillows, he could see how this would be a place where she smiled and relaxed in peace before going home. Zach accepted the DVD from the judge and put it in his bag.

“Have there been other attacks?”

The judge nodded, taking her seat. “While I was sitting in the hospital with Clark, I began to recall things. About a month ago, I got the impression someone was following me as I drove around one weekend running errands. I deviated my plans and lost the car, but I never got over that feeling. I alerted the marshals, but with budget cuts, security is an area they trimmed. Without a valid, active threat that I could prove, I was pressured into releasing the extra security detail.”

Zach took notes. “That’s crap. This just happened Friday. You were threatened in court today. There should be security posted outside your office right now. Ridiculous,” Zach told her.

Clark nodded. “I agree. I’ve contracted food poisoning three times this year, and that’s just crazy for it only being the ninth month of the year. I swear, I get poisoned every time Chef Henrietta comes here. I believe it’s her.”

The judge’s disbelieving look told Zach not to believe Clark. “Clark, what do you think this is about?” Zach asked pointedly.

“I suspect it’s jealousy or revenge. An envious colleague or a vengeful defendant or their family.”

“That’s an interesting viewpoint. No ex-employee or ex-lover?”

“No,” Clark replied, followed quickly by a no from the judge.

“If an employee has a problem, they can come to me. I’m tough, but I’m not without a heart.”

“In your opinion, Your Honor,” Zach pushed, testing her temper.

Kim didn’t take the bait. “It could be a stranger. I just wonder why?”

“It’s not a stranger,” Zach said quietly. “But we’ll find out who it is and end it. That’s what Hood does.”

“I like that,” Clark said.

“If I had to ask you for five names of suspects, who would they be?” Zach had directed the question to Clark, but Kim tried to intercept it, seeming to hate not being in control.

“That’s not fair,” Kim cut in.

“Judge, with all due respect, I’m trying to catch someone who is assaulting you. Nothing is impossible. Let him answer.”