Peril


 
 
 
 Also by Kat Martin
 The Silent Rose
 The Dream
 The Secret
 Hot Rain
 Deep Blue
 Desert Heat
 Midnight Sun
 Against the Wild
 Against the Sky
 Against the Tide
 Into the Fury
 Into the Whirlwind
 Into the Firestorm
 Beyond Reason
 Beyond Danger
 Beyond Control
 Pivot
 Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
 
 
 One Last Kiss
 Kat Martin
 
 ZEBRA BOOKS
 Kensington Publishing Corp.
 www.kensingtonbooks.com
 
 
 Copyright
 To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
 LYRICAL PRESS BOOKS are published by
 Kensington Publishing Corp.
 119 West 40th Street
 New York, NY 10018
 Copyright © 2021 by Kat Martin 
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 First Electronic Edition: September 2021
 eISBN-13: 978-1-4201-5419-1
 eISBN-10: 1-4201-5419-2
 Printed in the United States of America
 
 
 Contents
 Also by Kat Martin
 One Last Kiss
 Copyright
 Contents
 Chapter One
 Chapter Two
 Chapter Three
 Chapter Four
 Chapter Five
 Chapter Six
 Chapter Seven
 Chapter Eight
 Chapter Nine
 Chapter Ten
 Chapter Eleven
 Chapter Twelve
 Chapter Thirteen
 Chapter Fourteen
 Chapter Fifteen
 Chapter Sixteen
 About the Author
 Chapter One
 
 
 Chapter One
 The black-robed judge rapped the gavel, and the courtroom fell silent. As the judge rose and stepped down from the dais, a rising tide of chatter swelled among the wooden pews filled with spectators, miscellaneous family members, lawyers and their clients.
 “I’m sorry, Libby, but the judge has made his ruling. Your uncle’s will stands as written. That includes the provisions that apply to you.”
 The tall doors opened with a clang, and Liberty Hale rose from her place next to her attorney, Bert Strieber.
 “As far as the ruling applies to Uncle Marty’s greedy family, I couldn’t be happier,” Libby said. “None of them deserved a nickel more than they received in the will. Uncle Marty’s contribution to the Save an Animal Foundation was his business, not theirs. That money will do a lot of good, exactly what my uncle wanted.”
 Bert waited for her to step into the aisle behind the crowd exiting the courtroom, then followed. He was an older, gray-haired man, a little stoop-shouldered, one of Uncle Marty’s best friends. For an instant, Libby’s mind strayed to the dignified, handsome older man who had raised her. The only family member willing to assume the burden of providing a home for an orphaned twelve-year-old girl, her grandfather’s brother had taken her in after her parents had been killed in a car accident.
 Tears threatened. Libby clamped down on her emotions. Martin Hale had died two months ago. Libby was still grieving, trying to accept his death, though after months of battling cancer, Uncle Marty had seen the end as a blessing.
 She took a shaky breath. “As I said, I’m glad Judge Barrymore refused to give in to my cousins’ outrageous demands. As for me, Uncle Marty left me more money than I ever imagined. It’s the provision he created in order for me to get it that I don’t understand.”
 Bert came up beside her as they moved along the aisle. “I can only tell you that whatever your uncle did, he always had your best interests at heart.”
 It was true and yet... “Or else he’s still trying to control me.”
 She loved her uncle as much as the parents she had lost fourteen years ago. Uncle Marty had always been there for her, had always given her anything and everything she wanted. Then he’d fallen ill, and something had shifted between them.
 They’d argued about her future—the fact that she really had nothing specific in mind, nothing beyond having a good time and indulging herself in wildly expensive shopping excursions.
 Uncle Marty had continually brought up her childhood, reminding her of where she had come from, the small Kansas wheat farm where she was born and raised until the accident.
 Somehow that concern had morphed into the strange codicil to the will requiring her to spend the summer in the middle of Nowhere, Colorado—on some dude ranch she had never even heard of.
 Libby sighed. Trailing behind the grasping family members streaming through the tall mahogany courtroom doors, she and Bert made their way into the anteroom. A few feet ahead of her, Martha Newman, her second cousin by marriage, stopped and turned to face her.
 “I hope you’re happy, you spoiled little bitch. A bunch of stupid animals are getting half of Martin’s fortune. He never should have taken you in when your loser parents died.”
 A wave of fury hit her so hard her whole body tightened. If Bert hadn’t grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back, she would have launched herself at the red-haired witch married to her cousin Ferris.
 “Ignore her and keep walking,” Bert said.
 Since a wrestling match in the foyer of the courthouse was probably a bad idea, Libby kept moving, making her way out through the glass front doors onto Centre Street in Lower Manhattan. The black Lincoln Town Car they had arrived in pulled away from the spot where it had been waiting and drove up to the curb.
 As the driver opened the rear door, a rush of warm July wind sent Libby’s hair flying, tossing long blond curls over her