Intimate
Danger
A sleeping threat has awakened in the small town
of Nyack. Crimes in the cozy village, garner the attention of the FBI, who
assign two agents to assist Charlie in tracking down the sick and deranged
perpetrator. Agents Trent Rossi and Dillon Echols work closely with Charlie,
but as the crimes progress, dark secrets begin to cloud the air, blurring the
line between who is on the side of the law and who’s against it. Being
Charlie’s first major case, she’s unprepared not only for the menacing killer on
the loose, but also with the unexpected feelings Trent draws out of her.
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Jesus, he should be looking for
this Detective Lopez, but his body screamed for this woman. He fought the urge
to fidget, cursed the hours he had been working, unable to get any kind of
companionship. He would have to work quick and then find Charlie. “I’m Agent
Rossi with the FBI.” He leaned against the desk, gave her the look that had gotten him into pants faster than any of his
college buddies, and held out a hand. She looked at his palm as if it were a
serpent ready to strike.
“And? How can I help you, Agent
Rossi?” She rose from her chair and crossed her arms under her breasts. He
tried—and failed—to ignore how the movement pushed her plentiful mounds up
toward her chin.
Ooookkkayy.
He pulled his hand back and ran it
through his hair.
Bad
move! The stench coming from under his arm
made him wince.
“Look, I know you probably have
things to do,” he said.
She nodded, brows lifted to her
hairline, as if saying “no shit.” He went on, “But I do need to find Detective
Lopez. You’d be a real sweetheart if you could point me in his direction. I’m
here on a case and I don’t know…maybe after I’m done briefing him, you’d like
to have dinner with me? That is, if you’re not busy?”
The contortion of her brows twisted
before a sly smile spread.
“You’re looking for Charlie, huh?”
Someone groaned, and Trent glared
over his shoulder, perplexed. The heavyset guy in need of Tide shook his head
and looked away. Irritated at the interruption and apparent lack of man code,
Trent turned his attention back to the cute little female.
He nodded. “Yeah.”
The woman shifted and sat in the
chair with purposeful, slow movements. She set one foot on the desk, crossed a
long leg over the other. Each action played out in slow motion through his
lust-filled brain. He shifted, his focus glued to the smooth expanse of a
jean-covered thigh, and stepped closer.
Hummidy,
hummidy, hummidy.
“And why is it you need Charlie?”
The woman ran a hand up the outside of her leg and his attention followed it.
His mouth went dry.
“Umm, a case.”
“A case?”
“Yeah.” When silence met him, he
realized what was happening. You didn’t have to go through interrogation and
interview classes in order to figure it out. He was being led. His gaze snapped
to hers, except this time, her face did not look friendly. If the hardening of
her mouth was any indication, she looked pissed. And he’d been totally caught
just checking her out.
Resigned, he let out a breath.
“Yeah, a case. Look, I’m sorry for
all—” He waved a hand between them. “This. Could you just point me in the
direction of Detective Lopez?”
Her hard mouth softened and she
stood from her chair again, lips turning up at the corners. Leaning in to him,
her scent surrounded him and he got a whiff of coconut.
His gaze tracked along her face,
and dropped to her shirt, which parted as she leaned forward. He about choked
as he tried to swallow, his mouth dry as the Arizona desert.
“Well, Agent Rossi.”
Lean
forward a little more, please.
“If you could stop staring at my
tits for all of two seconds, then I’ll tell where you can find Detective
Lopez.”
The noisemaker behind him let out a
strangled cough.
He snapped his regard up to hers.
Hazel eyes blared with anger. Crap.
“Shit, I’m sorry. Seriously, it has
been a long damn day. If you’d just tell me where he is, Miss?” He raised his
brows, wanting her name. Good Lord, he wanted her name.
She smiled sweet, the
transformation of her face a thing of beauty. “It’s Detective.”
He raised a brow, a sick feeling
creeping up his spine. “Detective?” he croaked.
The smile spread to her eyes. “Yes,
and to not only help you, but to also answer your question, it’s Detective Lopez. How can I help you, Agent Rossi?”
The noisemaker behind him snorted
out a laugh.
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About
the author
D.C. Stone is a romance author and
full-time fraud investigator. She lives in the north-east with her incredibly
supporting husband and two kids. She’ll deny any association with the grumpy
cat that also resides in the house, but he is there, never-the-less.
After serving eight years of service
with the United States Air Force, she went on to transition into the world of
financial crimes and became a lead investigator for many years.
Reading has always been a passion of
hers, getting lost in a good, steamy romance is one of her favorite past times.
She soon after discovered her own love for writing and recreating stories and
characters in her head. Her writing
concentrates on romantic with specifics in paranormal, suspense and erotica.
Now, when she isn’t trying to solve a
new puzzle in the world of fraud, she is engulfed with coffee, her laptop, and
all those crazy characters in her head. She is a member of the Romance Writers
of America, New Jersey Romance Writers, RomVets, RWA Kiss of Death, and the
Liberty State Fiction Writers. She currently serves as the Vice President and
2014 Conference Chair for NJRW. Come stop by on Facebook, Twitter, or her website
and say hello!
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