In the Works!

2006-01-10T09:39:00.000-08:00

Here is a summary of a few of the projects my agent is working on placing. Of course Eternal Knights is not listed here since its got its own page:) Eternal Knights is in a 2nd and 3rd read with several editors and I hope to have news on it soon. It's the book that Berkley took to committee and it got booted because the upper mgt said they'd bought too many vamps:(

Purple Magic
This is actually an anthology with two other amazing authors. I am honored to be working on this with them!

One woman seeks her best friend, who is missing,and faces an evil like none she has ever known. One man, not wholly human, may be her only hope. But to earn his help, and save her friend, Joline Morris must enter a dark and erotic world where danger and passion collide. A world that will make her face her deepest fears before she finds salvation for herself and those she loves.
The Beast Within
Known only as 'Jag', he leads an army, the Knights of White, in the battle of good over evil, fighting the soulless Darkland Beasts who took his wife and his life. Saved by an immortal of mystical powers, he, too, is now immortal, destined to live with the vengeance he feels in his heart. He is torn between the beast stirring his soul and the goodness his mentor presses him to embrace.
But soon the true origins of the war being fought will become clear. For this is a battle of angels; Raphael, a protector of humanity, against, Cain, the fallen one, from the Underworld.
Cain will stop at nothing to take down his adversary, even bringing back Jag’s wife back to life in the form of forbidden temptation. His plan, to destroy the Knights, and conquer good with evil.
Now, Jag will find the one he lost, and their love will either lead him to the light or the ultimate darkness.

Not Dead Enough
Book One of a Series
By Lisa Renee Jones

We’ve all heard the stories. Tales told around camp fires and at slumber parties. Urban legends, myths, and yes, ghost stories. We go to the movies, begging to be scared. We buy the newest horror novel the minute it hits the shelves. We beg to be scared. Wanting fear. Needing it. Getting a high off the adrenaline rush of spine tingling terror. Convincing ourselves these dark things live only in the imagination…but that’s what evil wants us to think, thriving on our ignorance. Drinking innocence like fine wine. Waiting. Planning. Lurking in the shadows of existence with the poisonous of its presence and then targeting the souls of the defenseless for attack. Preying on the weak and using them to stalk those stronger.
And only one force stands between the hunted and the hunter.
Born with beauty meant to disguise the potency of their skills from those they hunt, they are the chosen seven. Women born into their destiny as part of magical genetic lines. These gifted seven are overseen by the Interworld Council, the ‘law’ ruling all things paranormal.
As ‘Guardians’ of the portals leading from one world to the next, these women are considered guardians of the unknowing humans, shielding them from the spirit world and fighting darkness. They are strong, possessing supernatural powers. They are the force that controls the lines dividing two worlds, the living and the dead. The barrier separating the spirits of the past from the physical bodies of today.
For in the otherworld, the realm between life and death, there is darkness beyond human comprehension. Sinister beings demanding to be seen and known. Yearning to take control of the living. Preying on those who believe them non-existent. There is only one way to stop their malicious intent to claim good as evil.
The Circle of Seven.
And now, one of those seven will face an enemy like no other. This Guardian, the daughter of the council’s leader, will be forced to align herself with a sworn enemy of her people…a vampire. For his brother wants to unite the dead and the undead, and this Guardian and vampire must stop them. This woman’s courage to forgive will become salvation, of herself and of life as we know it. And one man, a vampire, someone others consider an enemy, will become her bridge to the path called destiny.

The Walker Brother's Trilogy. Three wild and sexy brothers and the women who know how to tame them.

Book One - Power Play

Packed with sinister plots, and an array of characters, nothing is what it seems…

Julie Harrison is a high powered attorney who finds herself thrust into a dark world of murder, and greed. Her boss has gotten involved with some bad people and now people are dying. Julie doesn’t want to be next on the list. But answers don’t come easy when everyone has secrets…even the people who wear badges.
Sexy, ex-Navy SEAL, Luke Walker, is more than ready to play bodyguard. But Julie doesn’t want Luke’s protection. She wants distance. He broke her heart once, and she’s afraid he will do it again.
Luke intends to ensure Julie’s safety whether she likes it or not, and while he’s at it, he plans to win her heart. The problem is, Julie uses sex as an emotional shield. With circumstances keeping them ‘up close and personal’ can he resist the sizzling heat of their attraction long enough to find his way into her life? And can they stay alive when their enemies are many and the depth of deception only seems to dig deeper by the day?
In the end, Julie must see beyond the pain of her past and learn to trust Luke. For true love will be the key to surviving a dangerous web of evil.
Undercover Games
By Lisa Renee Jones

Two body guards. One male. One female. Both about to face the HOTTEST assignments of their lives!

Book One
Playing it HOT

The woman he can't have is the one he wants.... Sam has wanted Meagan from the moment he first set eyes on her. She is a sweet little contradiction that tempts him like no other. Her eyes say she wants him, but with words she lashes out at him. The man she doesn't like but can't resist.... When Sam comes to work for the record company she works for, Meagan tries to ignore him. He's far too much like her father. Yet every time she is around Sam, she feels as if she is sinking into a pool of deep, dark passion.
Danger delivers her to him ... Sam is called in to protect Meagan when and ex-employee begins stalking her. Now, forced into close quarters, their attraction becomes a physical addiction. Together they must face a madman, but for Sam, the biggest battle is the one to win Meagan's heart, not just her body

The shorter, e-version review: 4 stars RTBOOKCLUB, Susan Mobley
The strong heroine is matched with a hero who is wonderfully alpha. The sex scenes are written with class and gratifyingly hot sensuality, and the suspenseful tension is kept taut.

Book Two

Playing it EASY

Shelby Allen's company has been hired to protect Pro-Baseball pitcher Corey Evans from an obsessed stalker? Only she doesn't like athletes, having a bad past with one and only takes the job as a favor to Corey's manager. Corey Evans is feeling used and abused, having had his fame bubble burst as he realizes everyone sees him as a commodity. Especially women. When the two come together its like fire and ice. One minute they argue, the next they are playing the role of couple, and can't keep their hands off one another. Now, thrown together by circumstances, they must decide if they can trust one another, as they battle a stalker who as a hidden agenda. One that could turn deadly.

The e-version review: 4 stars RTBOOKCLUB, Susan Mitchell

Jones scorches the pages with this riveting blend of dark suspense, erotic sex and tender romance. The result is seductive and volatile!

Black Ops Series
Book One: Dangerous Illusions

Amanda Marquest is more than a CIA Operative. She is a brilliant scientist, as was her mother. It is this gift that makes her a risk to a man she will later learn is her father. A man who operates on the opposite side of the law. And a man whose identity her mother has kept from her. A secret that ended her mother’s life and now puts Amanda’s at risk.
Danger and passion collide in a race against the clock. Two CIA agents thrown together by circumstances, both with a deep scar in their past, must join forces to stop a madman’s devious plan. With their lives and hearts on the line they must learn to do the thing they fear the most…trust each other.

2005-11-17T15:01:00.000-08:00

Strange things are happening....Eve's sister is being seduced by a man who claims he will steel the pain of her recently deceased husband. But he is also a Vampire. To save her Sister, Eve must go to the Ranch on the outskirts of Mexico, to the only man they say can face such a creature. For he is one of them. But the might just be... ETERNAL PASSION.

In the Heat of the Night
Book one: The Sun Warriors Series
By Lisa Renee Jones Chapter One:

Prologue

Eternal darkness.
For two-hundred years Cole Price had endured a type of hell no normal man would ever understand. But then, he wasn’t normal. Nor had he been for many lifetimes.
The memory of how he came to this perpetual state of torture burned inside him like acid on an open wound. He’d heard that ‘time cures all’. Not for him. Time had done nothing but fester resentment for those who’d taken his life and killed his beloved wife.
Vampires.
Deep in the night, they had emerged upon the peaceful New England village, killing as if it were a mere sport. Women. Children. It didn’t matter. They drained the blood from the victims and left them for dead. Like many others, Cole had fought with passion, determined to save his village.
But he had failed.
Not just his people, but his very own wife. While trying to free a small child, Cole was forced to leave Caroline armed but unguarded. He faced these new enemies with courage, distracting them and allowing the little boy to escape. But Caroline stood alone, prey to yet another vampire.
With desperation, Cole battled the evil creatures, enduring a bite from one of the vampires in the process. He remembered the pain even today and the way it had seared him to the bone, ripping through his nervous system like a hot flame. Even so, he had pushed aside his agony in order to fight, urgent to get to Caroline. Somehow, he’d freed himself…But it had been too late.
Caroline was already dead.
The vision of her lifeless body would forever haunt him. Cole had pulled her into his arms, holding his love, pained by the coldness of her blood-drained limbs. Losing Caroline had destroyed his heart. Even taken his will to live. Darkness had closed down around him, demanding his consciousness, but offering much needed peace.
Cole welcomed death.
But he didn’t die. He woke in the care of a stranger.
A witch. At least that was what he called her. She called herself a ‘sun goddess’. A woman who claimed roots to the Toltec people, worshipping the sun and had lost many loved ones to the vampires.
This ‘witch’ called Cole’s new life a gift. To this day, centuries later, Cole called it torture.
He had become something not quite man, not quite vampire. In body, he possessed the qualities of a vampire…only different. Unlike vampires, Cole could walk in the sun. And he had his soul.
It offered Cole a choice…good or evil.
The witch wanted to create an army of ‘Sun Warriors’. Hunters to destroy the evil vampires.
Cole saw himself as a token in a game. One he resented being drawn into without consent. He didn’t trust the witch. Nor did he trust himself. The hunger for blood lived inside, dark and demanding. He fed off animals, and lived in caves. Control became everything to him. He held onto it with every second of everyday. He would never become like the monsters who’d taken his Caroline.
Over time his anger changed. Festered. Though he didn’t like the ways of the Shaman, he shared a common desire with him. Cole also wanted the vampires destroyed. So he returned to the witch and trained. For a year, he studied magical powers and learned to control his thirst. Amongst the witches followers were great warriors. Men who trained him to fight with more than his vampire strength. Cole learned how to use every weapon known to man and beast. And he discovered the secrets to fighting with his mind, not just his body. He became a silent predator that took vengeance on his enemy as he protected the innocent.
But no matter how many vampires he killed, his anger never eased. Nor did the pain of his loss. Caroline was dead. And he was forever a ‘Sun Warrior’. A destroyer of evil. But deep in his core, he knew a vampire existed.
A fact that made him doomed to eternal loneliness. He found a place to put his yearning for a more human connection, withdrawing into a cold place where no one could reach him.
It allowed him to survive.
And though Cole was the first vampire to be given a soul, the eldest of his kind, others were created. Soon, there were men who followed Cole. Younger souls called to him for help and guidance. Cole stood up to the challenge, offering the strength of age. The power of knowledge.
But, deep inside, he needed. He didn’t even know what. Something. Anything. It tore at him like a knife. Yet, the answer stayed out of reach.
Cole was so very…alone.

Chapter One

Angel or demon?
She sat astride him, long red hair flowing around her creamy white shoulders in a veil of silky perfection. Like the devil in the disguise of a beautiful woman, she lured him to temptation.
To a place sure to damn his soul.
With a seductive rhythm, her hips arched into his, body swaying with delicious invitation. Everything about her made him burn. Her smell. Her full bottom lip. Her full breasts as they bounced, nipples peaked with arousal. Begging for his hands. For his eyes.
With each stroke of her wet heat along his body, he yearned to be deeper. To take more of her. A need, relentless in its demands, threatened his control. A desire to claim her very essence. To go to a place he’d never gone.
He wanted things he had no right to take. Darkness beyond human comprehension claimed a part of his existence, pressing him to act on primal instincts. Long ago, he’d learned to control that part of his being, yet, now, he felt on the edge of snapping. With each passing moment, the wildness grew. Consumed. Challenged his ability to maintain control. He struggled against his urges…fighting his inner beast. Knowing he couldn’t let go. Yet, with his every attempt to hold back, this woman, this temptress, seemed to draw him out more.
As a serpent might its prey, she seemed to play on his weaknesses.
When he told himself to shove her away, she seemed to react. Bending forward, she pressed those lush, full breasts against his chest. Her lips brushed his jaw. His neck. His ear. Teeth scraped his lobe. A rush of heat surged through his veins, and a low growl escaped his lips. His mind clouded. He could only feel. To need. And what he needed was…to taste her.
The thought screamed with warning. He had to end this now, before it was too late. Before he did something he’d regret. But even as he willed himself to end this craziness, his hand slid around the curve of her perfect, round ass. With a hard thrust, he lifted his hips, and pulled her against his cock. At the same time his mouth found hers, and he drank her in, desperate to sate this ravenous hunger only this woman created.
This hunger beyond the pleasure of shared intimacy between a man and woman.
“Take me,” she whispered, and leaned back to stare into his eyes. “I know what you want and I give it freely. Take all of me.”
The site of her elegant, white neck as she shoved aside her hair made her intent clear. She couldn’t know what he was, yet, her actions, her invitation, said otherwise. And Lord help him, he wanted to take what she offered. To drink of the sweet liquid that ran through her veins.
“Take me,” she said, sitting there on top of him, looking like a goddess. All that creamy white skin against his darker coloring appealed in some abstract way.
“You have no idea what you suggest,” he murmured, fighting a moan as she slid along his length.
A slow smile slid onto her full lips. “Oh, but, I do. I know exactly what I suggest.” She leaned over him and brought her lips just inches from his. The warm trickle of her breath caressed his skin. “And I give to you freely.”
“You don’t or you would know how dangerous-”
Taking the role of aggressor, she kissed him, cutting off his words as her tongue slid past his teeth. Her body rocked atop his, demanded he move with her. His head spun with the impact of her words. With the soft pressure of her mouth upon his. Reality seemed a distant place. What happened here and now became fantasy.
Her cheek rested against his. “I am yours.” There was a soft, angelic promise to her words. “Take me.” Hands pressed into the mattress, on either side of his head, she leaned back enough to once again bare her exposed neck. “Drink.”
His cuspids extended as if answering her demand. An unconscious action. What was happening to him? He squeezed his eyes shut. No! The word screamed in his mind. Some part of his mind recognized the haze around him. The strange otherworld feeling to the present. Was he hallucinating. His lashes lifted, fixing on the beauty atop him.
No. She looked and felt real. And the thirst she induced did as well.
Determined to reclaim his control, to put this yearning for the forbidden in a safe place, he rolled her to her back. He’d never taken from a human and he wouldn’t. He would never become the kind of monster that destroyed. The kind he hunted.
Driving hard into her body, he thrust. Once. Twice. Over and over, fists in the mattress, cock pounding against her core. With each stroke, he focused on the immediate pleasure rather than the temptation to taste her. Yet, it burned inside him. Begged to be fed. Forced him to take more of her physically.
He wanted to be lost in the pleasure of the flesh. To forget temptation.
Soft moans and words of praise slid from her lips like a sensual song. And no matter how much he took she kept wanting. “More,” she begged, fueling his fire. “More.” Again and again he drove deep into the wet heat of her depths. Her legs wrapped his calves, her hips lifting to meet him stroke for stroke.
He claimed her mouth, and with long caresses of his tongue he tasted her. Praying it would sate the building flame inside that wanted to explode. But kissing her only made his body yearn at new levels. He couldn’t get enough of her. He molded his body to hers, skin to skin. She clung to him with something just shy of desperation. Wildly, they bucked, rocked, and moved as one. Trying to get closer. Yes. He had to…get closer.
Burying his face in her neck, he acted on instinct. Never before had sex pushed him to this level of absolute lust. He couldn’t think. With fire in his blood, he thrust with a force build of primal passion. Her body squeezed him, short hard spasms milking his cock.
“Take me,” she whimpered. Then, louder, almost a demand, “Do it!”
He had no comprehension of what made him act. No moment of decision. No reason why he understood what she wanted him to do. He simply slipped into the moment. The very thing he valued the most in this eternal life of hell, perhaps the only thing he still valued, simply failed him. He could hear her blood rushing through her veins…Calling to him.
With raw hunger, he turned his mouth to her throat and sunk his teeth deep. She stiffened and made a low sound as he began drinking. Taking her in. His mind reached for hers, helping her calm, feeling her muscles ease.
The sweet taste of her blood touched his tongue like a perfect drug. He felt a rush of power beyond anything he’d felt in all of his two centuries of life. Still hard, buried deep in her body, he felt a primitive need to thrust. To slide his cock along her slick folds and sink deep to her core. His body shook with the ecstasy of the moment, swallowing a moan as he drank in her rich flavor.
Their heartbeats found a common rhythm much as their bodies had only moments before. As his body slid into a relaxed mode, he felt the slow return of reality. And then came a rush of confusion and guilt. Even self-hatred.
He forced his mouth from her neck. “No!” he yelled into the room, arching his back with the roar of the word.
But he knew it was too late. What was done was done. She would die if he didn’t convert her. Which was the worst hell? He wasn’t sure. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
She looked up at him, and for the first time he realized how amazing her eyes were. Sky blue with a hint of green. How had he missed them before? Why did he notice them now?
Her fingers lightly touched his cheek. “You only did what had to be done.”
He didn’t even know what to say. She made no sense. Or maybe he was going crazy. Maybe he heard what he wanted to hear not what was really spoken. He buried his face in her neck, desperate to hide from the trust in her eyes.
***
With a gasp, Cole Thomas came awake. He shoved away the cool, white sheets and sat up in his bed. The instant he realized he was alone, he reached for them again, wildly looking for the bright crimson tint of blood. But there was nothing. Memories and expectancy made his gaze dart around the room, to the left and then the right.
Like all the times before, it had been just a dream. She wasn’t real.
Cole’s hand ran over the dark stubble of his jaw. In two centuries, he’d never dreamed. Not until three weeks ago when his sleep had become haunted by a red-headed beauty who took him to bliss and back. Night after night, she teased him with the physical and drew him into some emotional climax he didn’t pretend to understand.
But tonight she’d offered more than mere pleasure. He bit his bottom lip, certain he could still taste her. What had been a dream felt far too real. He’d stolen her blood to feed his own needs.
He’d become the very thing he hunted…vampire.
He felt the word like a hard punch in the gut. No…Never. The dream meant nothing. Or maybe it did. Something. He pushed off the bed and walked towards the shower. Long ago he’d learned never to take surface answers. The obvious would be to assume it was simply about his own battles with who and what he was. But it felt like more. Like a warning.
He needed answers and there was only one place he knew to get them.

2005-08-10T12:39:00.000-07:00

Synopsis
Series: Black Ops
Book One: Dangerous Illusions
By Lisa Renee Jones

Amanda Marquest is more than a CIA Operative. She is a brilliant scientist, as was her mother. It is this gift that makes her a risk to a man she will later learn is her father. A man who operates on the opposite side of the law. And a man whose identity her mother has kept from her. A secret that ended her mother’s life and now puts Amanda’s at risk.
Danger and passion collide in a race against the clock. Two CIA agents thrown together by circumstances, both with a deep scar in their past, must join forces to stop a madman’s devious plan. With their lives and hearts on the line they must learn to do the thing they fear the most…trust each other.

Chapter One

He was here again.
The dark stranger who’d appeared the past three days in a row. A part of her had anticipated his presence. Even hoped for it. Something about him had lingered in her mind, invading her thoughts at odd moments. Her CIA training had taught her the importance of focus. Distraction was a mistake.
Mistakes could be deadly.
As a college professor, in her current alias, Amanda Marquest found teaching quite stimulating. Yet after finishing up a lecture to her Organic Chemistry class the prior day, she‘d found her thoughts turning to this stranger. A student had asked a rather simple question about the difference between SN1 and SN2 reactions and it had gone in one ear and out the other. Having him repeat himself had been nothing shy of embarrassing. Like she didn’t know such a basic formula to perfection. It was a sign her head wasn’t in the game. A problem she couldn’t allow to continue. She had to deal with this man one way or the other.
Amanda Marquest’s month long ritual of coffee and a chocolate croissant had suddenly become a bit more interesting. And perhaps…deadly. This little detail – that he might be one of the many who hunted her - should have made the tension over seeing him again all about danger rather than the little thrill of female anticipation she felt. But it didn’t.
Stepping into the warmth of The Java Drip Café, she escaped the chill of the cool San Francisco morning. And her eyes instantly found the spot he’d claimed as his own. A corner table away from the rush of morning visitors.
He looked up at the same moment and their eyes locked, causing a strange flutter in her stomach. She would have laughed had anyone described such a thing.
But what this man did to her was far from a joke.
Forcing her eyes from his, she walked towards the counter, and shoved a long strand of blond hair out of her eyes. Silently, she cursed her hormones. Why now, after so many years of being on her own and without male companionship, had her body decided to scream for attention?
But as much as she liked conclusive answers - after all, she was both scientist and doctor to the core - there wasn’t one. It came down to the animalistic way humans responded to sexual attraction. He had that thing, that certain something, that set off her instincts.
With a glance, she knew more about him than most would after an hour long conversation. An instant assessment came automatically. As natural as breathing. Evaluating risk was part of her life. At five foot five with a petite build few considered her a threat. But she was a deadly weapon. She was physically fit and well honed to take on the enemy. Even if this stranger hadn’t been so intriguing, she would have known everything about him.
He had the look of a renegade.
Shoulder length hair, dark as night, a square jaw with a dimple in the middle, high cheekbones, and as usual, jeans a little too worn. His skin was a light brown. His eyes, dark, though she couldn’t be sure of the color.
She guessed him to be Italian, though it was possible he was Hispanic.
Sipping his coffee, he watched her. She felt his eyes like a warm blanket, touching her with the certainty of his stare. In her mind’s eye she could see his full lips, the bottom more so than the top, touch the paper cup. A white scar went from on side of his mouth to his nose. Small and thin, but an excellent point of identification.
She ordered her coffee and pastry, her mind racing with possibilities over his sudden and repeated appearances. The past month she’d made this stop daily. Treating herself to a morning indulgence of her sweet tooth was out of character. She trained hard in the gym each evening and fed her body to enhance her performance. Already her little indulgences felt like a sin. Now, with this stranger’s appearance, she knew it had been a dangerous gamble. Repeating her actions, being predictable, was against the core of her training. Yet, she’d been certain the radar screen no longer carried her mark.
For six months now, she had been living a normal life. Or so it seemed to the rest of the world. Amanda wasn’t quite sure what normal was. Only that calm and peaceful didn’t touch her life for this long of a time. The past few weeks there had been a time bomb ticking in her head. Of course, she’d outstayed her visit. She knew this. Moving again just felt like a never ending hell. Talking herself into staying a little longer had been easy. Convincing herself she had achieved her goal…to disappear. To be forgotten so that she, the hunted, could become the hunter.
She’d tried the aggressive attack approach years before. Seeking out those who wanted her dead. But with each step, someone had anticipated her move. Laying low had seemed her best option. Perhaps it had done nothing but waste time she could have spent finding answers.
For a moment, Amanda flashed back to the night of her mother’s death…to the coded message that had warned her of a danger she must outrun. Of her mother pleading with her to trust no one…not even her own government.
But surely if this man was one of those who tracked her, he wouldn’t show himself. And she’d seen the heat in his eyes. There was no doubt, he was attracted to her.
To be suspicious after so many months of quiet was probably a reflex of paranoia. People who were attracted to one another made a point of meeting again. Still…maybe she should approach him and eliminate the doubt from her mind. She paid for her coffee, and turned, determined to meet this man, to put her mind at ease.
But he was gone.
***
Someone was following her.
Pulling her jacket tighter around her neck, Amanda kept her posture relaxed.
An intentional façade.
Adrenaline charged her body as the familiar rush of awareness took hold. She was alert and ready for confrontation. Even after months of dormancy, her skills were second nature so that her defensive actions were automatic.
Turn the tables.
Become the aggressor.
Poignant and nasty, something sinister laced the air like a fine mist spoiling the sweetness of the San Francisco night. Deep inside, Amanda felt the pain of her past crashing into her created newly reality. In an instant, her pursuer had taken any hope she’d been forgotten.
The outcome was inevitable. No matter how this confrontation ended-and there would be a confrontation-she would be on the run once again.
With each stride forward, she was aware of the darkness on her heels. She could almost hear it laughing at her. Taunting her for her stupidity. For thinking time could play to her advantage. Coming out of hiding so soon had been a mistake. But she had been desperate to experience some semblance of freedom. She had rationalized her actions, convincing herself years of being a ghost, hiding in dark places, had been enough. And staying so long- well, that had been like the nail in her coffin. Somewhere along the way she’d developed some fairy tale notice of normalcy. This little life had felt nice. Safe. Better than being underground. But deep down, she knew the truth.
She had been born and bred into a life that would never be even remotely normal.
Discreetly, Amanda surveyed her surroundings, deciding on the best departure route. The night was the darkest of any she had experienced since her arrival. Appropriate for her departure, yet again, from normalcy. Eerily, the silence seemed to grow. It aided the menacing impact of the panel of clouds that even the air she breathed seemed damp and heavy. Her footsteps faded into the oblivion of the night.
Her lips thinned as the actual stillness of the air seemed to invade her lungs, thick and heavy, making it hard to breathe. Gone was the normal California breeze, as if in hiding.
Like the man following her.
She knew it was a man from the shimmer of movement she’d heard, heavier and more masculine than a woman’s.
As she reached the end of the block, she took the corner, flattening herself against the wall, preparing for her attacker. Wishing for the absence of the street light robbing her of coverage.
Becoming the aggressor.
Amanda Marquest, ex-CIA operative, was now ready for battle. She waited, waited, and then moved, kicking her foot, and making direct contact. A small success before she felt the return kick of her attacker.
The blows, wrist to wrist, came one after another. Only his seemed defensive, never making the first move. Her attacker was well trained, clearly matching her skill with his own. A man, well over six-feet-tall, and strong as an ox, his blows were calculated and clearly not meant to be fatal.
His intent was clear…to capture her.
He was strong, agile, and capable of succeeding in his task. She couldn’t afford to make a mistake. Maneuvering in circles, she paced herself, meeting his stare, feeling his intensity.
She knew him. It hit her with a sudden impact. The man from the coffee shop. There was no time to curse her stupidity. Later. Her focus had to remain on the battle.
They were like two wild animals, stalking each other, not attacking, but preparing, waiting. When she moved, he moved. The shuffle of a can hit her feet, and she seized the opportunity it offered. Kicking it at her attacker, knowing he would have to adjust his footing, she reached for her weapon.
Securing it from her jacket, she pointed, and demanded, “Who the hell are you?”
She found herself staring into the barrel of her attacker’s gun. Damn, he was good. Even with a distraction, he’d responded with perfection in his timing. But then, she really hadn’t expected less.
Going up against well trained opponents was all a part of the game. You trained hard physically to earn the opportunity to outsmart the enemy.
She looked straight into her attacker’s dark eyes. Black. Now she knew. Assessing him as she knew he was her, she knew he had an advantage. He already knew who she was, and probably a great deal about her strengths and weaknesses.
It was critical she identify his.
Those eyes spoke of his nationality, but not necessarily his allegiances. She repeated her words, needing to hear his voice. Knowing his origin might hint at his employer.
“Who are you?” Her words were enunciated perfectly.
His voice was calm, his tone like cold steel, and completely without accent. “A friend.”
She laughed, adrenaline pumping through her veins, an old high still too familiar. “I don’t think so.” Then, all sighs of humor gone, “Try again.”
He showed absolutely no signs of reaction. “Your country needs you, Amanda.”
Inwardly, she cringed. Damn it! Why had she come out of hiding so soon? Impatience had cost her. “You’ve got the wrong person. There is nothing I have to offer my country.”
“Dr. A has much to offer.”
A chill raced up her spine. No matter how she tried to disappear her past found her. “Dr. A is dead.”
“You can’t erase what is,” he said quickly, firmly. “You’re needed.”
For what and by who was the question? And with what hidden agenda? “Who are you?”
“Duran.” The name was dimly familiar. “If I found you, others can as well. And believe me, they’re looking.”
Reality never tasted quite so bitter. Her eyes narrowed. Her trigger finger itched. “Who sent you?”
“You don’t just walk away from duty. It calls to you, Dr. A.” Then with an authoritative edge to his voice, he added, “You are needed.”
Through clenched teeth she bit out her response. “I’m not Dr. A.”
“Yes,” He stepped forward. Automatically, she stepped backwards. His words were spoken slowly, adding emphasis to their meaning. “You are.”
“Stop.” Amanda waved her gun. One more step, and she would be against the wall, trapped like a rat. The thought didn’t set well. “Don’t think I won’t use it,” she warned.
His expression showed nothing. His voice remained calm. “I know you won’t hesitate to take out an enemy.” He had stopped walking. “But are you so sure that’s what I am?”
There was no hesitation before her response. “Are you sure you want Dr. A?”
His brow inched up. “I have found Dr. A.”
Her chin tipped as she looked him squarely in the eyes. “Then you’re the enemy.”
His face was free of expression, but she sensed the calculation going on in his head. “What if I told you there were lives at stake?”
She snorted. “There always are. Surely you can do better than that.”
He was very still. Too still. “People will die without your help.”
She corrected him. “Dr. A’s help.”
He inclined his head ever so slightly. “Precisely.”
“Why should I care?” she asked, trying to be flippant. Human life was not something she easily snubbed her nose at. She’d lived her job. Still did.
“Because I know you’re not as cold as you are trying to seem. You have a reputation for helping those who need help. People need you.”
Her brow dipped. “Who are you?”
“I told you,” he said, “a friend.” He paused, “One of your own.”
She knew he meant CIA. Sarcasm laced her response. “Oh, well, there you have it. Now everything is so simple. I should put down my gun and trust you, right?”
His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “How about I lower mine? Then will you hear me out?” Slowly, he began lowering his weapon.
Her weapon didn’t move. She held it steady, aimed at his forehead. He put the safety on his weapon, and stuck it in a holster under his jacket. His eyes held hers as he moved.
Clearly, trying to earn her trust, his hands went out to his sides. “What do you say? Have a cup of coffee with me, and listen to what I have to say.”
“You attack me and then ask me to have coffee with you?” she asked in astonishment. “I should shoot you just for the pure stupidity of your actions.”
“Hey,” he reasoned. “I didn’t attack you. I followed you. You’re the one who went all wild and started throwing punches.”
“You were following me,” Amanda The flash of understanding in his eyes told her he knew she meant the coffee shop. “Not shooting at you.”
“Your point?”
“I just wanted to talk. And that’s what I want now,” he explained. “To talk.”
Her chest rose and fell several times. “You have a funny way of making conversation.” Her weapon stayed pointed at him. Aimed for the spot between his eyes.
“You attacked, not me.”
“You want to talk?” she asked. “Talk.”
And then he said the name that got her attention. “Dr. Roger Franklin.”
Her blood felt as if it had suddenly frozen.
Franklin had all but succeeded in taking out thousands in a subway poisoning in China years before. He had planned to blame Americans and launch a war against the red, white, and blue. It was Amanda and her mother who had come up with the antidote that had made America look like the hero not the enemy.
Letting out a breath, she lowered her gun slightly. “You’ve got my attention.”
***
Antonio Duran felt a rush of relief when Amanda responded to Franklin’s name. He wanted that man to go down worse than he wanted the retirement he’d soon be taking. The man had an itch to hurt the American people like he’d never seen before. No way could he walk away from the agency with a clear conscious without catching this guy.
He eyed Amanda with interest hoping his instincts about ditching his weapon were right. It had been a sign of good faith. Hopefully not a foolish one. No wonder she’d been a hell of an agent at one point. In the week he’d watched her, it had been impossible to miss her beauty. She had that sexy girl-next-door thing going on that could be used to manipulate. Now, with her skills put to the test, she’d proven she was a damn good fighter as well.
Those things along with her track record of dealing with Franklin would make her an excellent asset. That was, if she wasn’t dirty. He couldn’t be absolutely sure. His observations to this point said she wasn’t. So did his gut. But his instincts had failed him once before, and it had cost lives. And that had been over a woman as well. He’d never be that foolish again. Amanda Marquest was the enemy and she’d stay that way. He didn’t care how damn innocent and good looking she might be. All he cared about was stopping Franklin. Once he’d finished using Amanda, the agency could deal with her.
With his hands by his sides, unmoving, he tried to ensure Amanda knew he wasn’t an imminent threat. He eyed her hand, still wrapped in ready position around her weapon. He’d feel a hell of a lot better if she’d follow his lead and lower her weapon. Despite the feminine side he’d glimpsed those mornings in the coffee shop, there was no doubt, she could be deadly.
“How about putting yours away, Dr. A.” It wasn’t a question.
She did the opposite, taking aim again. “Don’t call me that.”
He laughed and held up his hands. She had a little temper. All sweet as sugar on the outside but not so much so on the inside. “Alright you win. I can respect a sensitive subject. Can I at least call you Amanda? Or do you prefer your current alias of Tiffany Roberts?”
“Don’t call me anything,” She said her stare as chilly as ice. Nothing like the warm look of interest she’d given him just this morning. “Say what you have to say, and be done with it,” she added.
“It’s a little dark back here,” he said, arms lifting, indicating the alley. “How about that cup of coffee?”
She gave him a sharp look, and lowered her weapon to her side. “I’d have thought you’d had your share of coffee by now.”
He smiled. Her directness about their morning encounters didn’t surprise him. But their attraction to one another had been both unexpected and unwelcome. Business and pleasure didn’t mix. And sleeping with the enemy, which she could well be, was a good way to die.
“I didn’t try to hide from you,” he said.
Her brow inched upward. Despite only having the dim glow of a streetlight to see by, he could see the brilliance of her mind at work “Why is that, I wonder?”
“It was a simply act of good faith. I wanted to be clear from the start. I have nothing to hide from you. Yes, I followed you. I wanted to make sure you weren’t dirty.”
Her voice was sharp. “I’m not dirty.”
“An operative that goes MIA is most likely dead or working for the other side.”
She repeated her words. “I’m not dirty.”
“Then you’ll want to help your country in its hour of need.”
“You need Dr.A’s help not mine.”
“Let’s stop talking in circles.”
She was silent for long moment. “Fine. I’ll meet you in fifteen minutes at Joe’s Diner.” She didn’t give him an address. “Sit at a table near the back and by a window. If I don’t see you, I won’t come inside. Now turn and walk away. I’ll follow.”
His brow lifted. She had reason to be cautious but then so did he. Giving his back to a stranger wouldn’t be smart. “We walk out of this alley side by side. Then I’ll go right and you go left.”
A hint of defiance flashed in her eyes. He could tell she wanted to force him to go ahead of her. “Fine,” she said, after a moment, “but don’t try any funny stuff. Test me and you won’t like the results. I have no reason to trust you.”
“Nor I, you,” he stated, pinning her in a knowing look.
Several seconds passed until, in silent agreement, they turned to walk to towards the street. Two strangers, side-by-side, ready to act.
He didn’t trust her. She didn’t trust him. They’d made that perfectly clear. But if Amanda was Dr. A and she hadn’t gone dirty, she knew as well as he that somehow they had to get to the same page.
To trust enough to defeat Franklin…together.

2005-07-01T15:07:00.000-07:00

Book one of THE ETERNAL KNIGHTS

With a rush of awareness, Alexis Harrison sat straight up in her bed. Like the pounding of a drum, her heart beat against her chest. Realization came as she blinked into the dimly lit room.
She was dreaming. And he was here. She felt him. Already her body thrummed with the sweet arousal of her fantasy lover’s presence.
Anxiously, her eyes traveled the room, blinking against the darkness. And then she saw him . . . the stranger who seduced her in her sleep and stole her inhibitions.
He stood in front of the open window, the breeze lifting his dark hair from his shoulders. Moonlight cast a mysterious glow around him, giving her just enough light to devour his perfection. The silky white curtains fluttered around his muscular frame. Like a predator, he stood there, unmoving, dark eyes fixed on her as if he prepared for attack.
He reminded her of a big cat. Yes. He was like a leopard, smooth and sleek, with the gift of deadly agility and potent seduction.
“I never thought I’d see you again,” she whispered.
“I was never far away,” he said, in a low, sultry voice as he walked towards her, his clothes as black as his raven hair. As if he was a part of the night, moving within the darkness. “Destiny awaits. You know this.”
With each step he took, anticipation grew. A tiny tingling of arousal emerged between her legs. “You speak of destiny but you offer no answers.”
“I’d tell you if I could.”
She wanted to demand he explain himself. To tell her who he was and why she wanted him with such completeness. But suddenly, he was there, beside her, sitting on the bed. The scent he carried, so familiar, so male, danced along her nerve endings like a calling. His hand went to her cheek, and she leaned into it, lashes fluttering with the sweet bliss of his touch.
Alexis looked up at him, this stranger who’d come to her in her dreams for so many years. He wasn’t like other men. Of this she was certain. There was something far more primal, almost animalistic about him. Yet, he burned inside of her like a part of her very soul. With him, she felt free. For his short visits she wasn’t alone in the world. She wanted to understand why he made her feel such things. But like the times before, logic slipped away, and passion ruled.
“Kiss me,” she whispered, needing what she hadn’t had in far too long.
Slowly, he lowered his head, his breath warm and seductive with its promise of intimacy. And then his lips were on hers, and his tongue . . . it slid into her mouth with a long, languid stroke that swept through her entire body with a rush of heat.
His hand went to her waist and she sighed into his mouth. She wanted to be taken. To be consumed and controlled. Only with him did she ever allow herself to let go. He did that for her. Took her to a place where nothing else mattered. Gave her a peace she had never felt in the real world, but yearned for in a way she couldn’t quite understand.
He tore his lips from hers, then pulled the sheet from her body and gently urged her to ease onto her back. She did as he suggested, because she knew the reward that would follow. She knew well the pleasure that he alone could give. But never well enough.
A hint of a smile played on his sensual mouth as his index finger traveled to the edge of her gown, and inch by inch, slid the silk up her thigh. He brushed the edge of her panties, and she sucked in a breath. Wet with want, she burned to feel him on top of her, inside her, all around her.
Sliding to his side, lying so he faced her, his long, hard thighs pressed against her body, his lips touched her ear. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered.
And she had missed him. She wanted to respond. To ask why he’d stayed away, but his fingers brushed her nipple. A shiver raced through her body, and her back arched. Rewarding her response, he circled it, and then lightly tugged.
Desperate for more of him, to feel him close and hard beneath her hands, she turned into him, pressing her body against his. Her hands found the long layers of dark hair even as she pressed her lips to his. He kissed her then, his mouth hot and hungry as he devoured her. Like a wild animal, he both gave and took. Tasting her with completeness. Delivering her to that erotic wonderland where nothing mattered but him. Her. Them.
Then, she was lost . . .
For a moment, everything went black as the dream turned to nightmare. For just an instant, coldness replaced the heat of the embrace. As if she had been brushed by evil. Oh God, she knew what came next. Death would invade this dream and make it a nightmare.
She was alone. So very alone.
Blinking, she tried to see into the darkness. Black, thick, silence surrounded her. Suddenly, a flash of light moved before her eyes, and then everything came into focus.
She stood in an alley, still wearing her nightgown. Beside her, was a trash dumpster, the door open, the smell rotten and tainted, causing her stomach to wrench in disgust. A rat scurried across the pavement, its squeal so real it made her skin crawl. Everything felt magnified a hundred times. There was no wind and the air was thick, and mixed with the smell of the trash, almost suffocating. She looked left, and then right, but saw no one.
And then, with a sick feeling gathering in her stomach, she looked down.
Confirmation came like a hard slap. A woman lay at her feet, dark lashes against her pale skin. For several seconds, Alexis simply stood there. Unmoving. Praying she would wake up. But, the sourness of the air made her nostrils flare and her surroundings seem to brighten.
Usually, it wasn’t like this. So vivid. So real.
The thought set her in motion. If this was real, then so was the woman at her feet. She bent down next to the body intent on searching for a pulse, adrenaline like a drug in her veins. Her hand met a damp stickiness. Bright red smudged her fingers, and Alexis had to force herself to swallow. With dread in her heart, she touched the coldness of the woman’s cheek, and turned her head. But she already knew what to expect. She’d been here before. Not this exact location. Not this exact victim. But this nightmare had come to her many times. With two similarities. There was always a dead woman. And the death came in the same, horrifying way.
Alexis brushed long black hair away to view the injury. Two deep puncture marks on her neck oozed with blood. Just as expected, yet . . . With a deep breath, Alexis reached forward, touching a drop of bright red liquid, trying to understand the moment. Something about this felt different than her other experiences.
Tears burned in the back of her eyes as the blood stained her skin. This woman had a life, a family, and people who cared for her. Loved ones who would mourn. It destroyed Alexis to know she had no power to save her or the others before her. She’d devoted her life to using her abilities, her visions, to stop such things. Why then was she seeing these images if she could do nothing to make a difference?
“Why?” she screamed into the night, her face tilted to the sky, and her body shaking with emotion. Then, in a hoarse whisper, “Why?”
Abruptly, the wind lifted her hair, blowing with a sudden gush. And then he stood there, in the alley with her. Her stranger. Never before had he entered the nightmare portion of her dream. Alexis stared at him. His gaze met hers, but there was no emotion in the depths of his deep, dark eyes.
“Help her,” Alexis said to him. For some reason, she knew he could. She even felt his desire to do so. Yet, something kept him from acting.
“It’s too late for her.”
That wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear. “Why am I here then?” Alexis pushed to her feet. “If not to save her, then why?”
“I told you,” he said. “Destiny.”
“Stop saying that. It’s not enough. I don’t understand.”
“You will.”
Alexis balled her fists by her side. “I want to know now.”
“Soon,” he said. “Soon.”
Walking towards him, Alexis felt an urgency she didn’t understand. Only that it rolled inside her like a ball down a hill, picking up speed. She needed to touch him. To feel him. To confirm this was real. No longer could he represent peace. Now, he had become a part of the fear. When he’d left the bedroom and entered the alley, he had evolved from dream to nightmare. She wanted this to end. To stop the terror eating at her mind. Somehow, she felt that touching him would dissolve the evil and bring back the bliss. But with every step she took, her stranger seemed to become more distant. The alley grew dimmer, grayness turning to black until suddenly she was thrust into total, utter darkness.
***
Ringing. There was a loud ringing noise. Slowly, Alexis let the sound enter her mind, and blinked. Daylight became reality about the time the telephone went silent.
Staring up at the ceiling, she replayed the images of her dream in her mind. The passion of the dark stranger coupled with the desire to give to him so completely. Then the violent turn from lovemaking to the death of yet another woman.
In her twenty-nine years of living, she’d had some damn scary nightmares. Often, they foretold the future. A skill she considered a gift. Her thoughts went back to her decision to join the FBI. To listening to the man who had heard of her skills and recruited her. The man who was now her boss. He’d convinced her she could save lives profiling for FBI. Now years later, she had never regretted her decision to join the agency. Her job was her way of fighting evil. Her calling.
Accepting the gift she’d been given as a gift from God had allowed her to deal with the darkness of the images.
But this nightmare had repeated itself for a good five years without ever becoming reality. She wasn’t sure what it meant or how to respond. Each time it unnerved her to the core. Every part of it. That she gave to a stranger so freely. That a woman would die and she couldn’t save her.
Sitting up, she threw back the covers, her hand trembling ever so slightly. The alarm clock sounded and Alexis jumped. With a low sound in her throat, she scooted to the edge of the mattress and pressed the off button just in time to hear her doorbell ring.
“Who the heck is here this early?” she murmured under her breath.
Grabbing a robe, she made quick work of shoving her arms into it. An accidental glance in the mirror said her long, brown hair looked downright scary. And she needed to make a highlight appointment. The auburn locks she tried to have redone once a month hadn’t been touched in three. She drew a wayward lock to her nose and frowned. It smelled like the nasty dumpster from her dream. But that wasn’t possible.
Alexis shoved away the thought and rushed towards the front of her apartment. One thing for sure, no one visited at seven in the morning with good news. By the time she reached the door, a hard, impatient knocking had started.
She yanked it open to find her boss, Agent in Charge Ryan Cameron, standing in her doorway. Tall and dark, he was still in top-notch physical shape. He looked forty rather than his age—fifty-two. Though he’d only headed up the San Francisco field office where she worked for about a year, he had supported her from day one. Unlike most people who first met her, he had never once questioned her talents as an FBI profiler or her special gifts. Of course he’d been the one who’d found her. Ryan had spoken at her college. Several students had told him about her work at a runaway shelter. Intrigued, he’d shown up at the shelter and watched her in action for a solid week, telling her it had been research for a project. He’d seen her visions in action. Watched her charge into a gang fight because she’d already known the ending. That one of the kids would die.
And he’d pursued her for the agency until she’d finally seen it as the opportunity it was. A way to help stop evil.
Ryan eyed her with a smirk on his face. “Nice hair,” he said, moving forward so she had to back up to allow him to enter or be run over. “Coffee made yet?”
Alexis blew at a piece of hair as it dropped in front of her eyes. People weren’t supposed to see her this early in the morning. She hadn’t missed the file he held. He’d come to talk shop. “It’s too damn early for whatever you’re here for.”
“You wouldn’t answer your phone,” he said, already halfway to her kitchen.
“I’ll be at work in an hour,” she said, irritated as she shut the door and walked towards the kitchen. “And you called about five minutes before you knocked.” Bringing Ryan back into view, she found him standing at her sink running water into a glass pot. She leaned against her bright, white refrigerator, noting the mud he’d managed to deposit on her equally white tiled floor. “What the heck is going on? And you didn’t wipe your feet on the mat.”
Ignoring her floor issues, he poured the water into the back of the machine. “You’re going to New York, kid.”
Her brows dipped. “What? Surely someone is closer to New York than me.”
Ryan grabbed two mugs from the cabinet. One was her Mickey Mouse mug she only used when she was upset.
“Two profilers have bombed on this,” Ryan said. “You’re up to bat. They asked for you by name. The police chief read about you. Seems he is getting a lot of bad press for the department.”
She walked towards him and reached for Mickey replacing it with a plain blue mug instead. Mickey had been a gift from Father Michael, the priest from St. Petersburg who had raised her. She didn’t let anyone else touch it. Mickey, like Father Michael, was special. It had been a present as had the trip to Disney World. And since he’d passed away only a year before, Mickey was more important to her than ever. She’d lost everyone she’d ever loved. She wanted to keep what little she had left of Father Michael to herself.
“I wanted the Mouse cup,” Ryan said, drawing her attention back to the present.
She ignored his comment. “Exactly what am I dealing with here?” Alexis asked.
“A serial killer.” He walked to the circular glass table and sat down, reaching for the folder he’d place there. “With a nasty habit of biting people in the neck.”
Alexis’s blood ran cold. “What . . . what did you say?”
He flipped through some papers and tossed a picture on the table. Alexis took small steps to bring the photo into view. Instinctively, her hand went to the cross around her neck. It had belonged to the mother she’d never known. Father Michael had given it to her the same day he’d given her the mug. On her sixteenth birthday. She’d never felt she needed the comfort of that cross, quite as much as she did at this very moment. Because there, on her table, was a picture of the dead woman from her dream. Reality rushed into focus as did her stranger’s words.
Destiny was calling.

2005-07-01T11:01:00.000-07:00

A Stranger's Touch
One passionate night. One perfect stranger… Was it a set up or an accident?
Jessica Montgomery has buried herself in her work at the Austin, Texas District Attorney’s office to forget a bad divorce. Her husband not only left her for another woman, he called her sexually suppressed. Confidence smashed, Jessica avoids relationships, period, no question about it.
Her sister’s child is having his first birthday party, and the timing has Jessica in a crunch. It’s just before a big murder trial, yet she finds herself on the road to Brownsville, Texas to see the baby. The trip becomes a disaster when she has car trouble and is stranded in a small town. It’s raining and there are no rooms left at the only hotel for miles.
Enter the sexy stranger. First, he saves her from a rainstorm, and a night in her car. Next, he saves her from her own insecurities, making love to her and helping her find a passionate side she never knew existed.
But as quickly as he comes into her life, he is gone.
Now, back home, ready to start her trial, she is faced with complications. The FBI has a surprise witness, an undercover agent. Reluctantly, she agrees to meet this man they call Dominic at a secluded safe house. When she arrives, she finds him to be none other than her sexy stranger.
Jessica immediately questions his intentions. Why was he at that Brownsville hotel the same night she was? Before she can even digest what is happening, bullets begin to fly. Now she is on the run with a man she isn’t sure is a friend or enemy. A man who ignites a fire in her that makes her hope he is indeed one of the good guys. Soon, she finds herself living out a new life, undercover, pretending to be Dominic’s wife and wishing for a real life fairy tale ending. But that means trusting Dominic with her life and her heart…and outrunning criminals determined to see them both dead.
In the end, nothing is as it seems. Illusion has ruled both Jessica's life and her destiny.

Chapter One

He made her think of sex.
Hot, wet, blow your mind kind of sex. The kind she hadn’t had in far too long. Correction. Ever. She had never, ever had the kind of sex this man made her want.
Suddenly, the dingy little roadside bar she had stopped at because her cell phone had no signal seemed a darn good decision. It offered a damn delicious distraction from her long hours on the highway.
Standing at the bar, dressed in all black, dark hair touching his broad shoulders, he looked like a wild, exotic form of Zorro. He was the kind of man that made women pant. Even her, conservative little Jessica Montgomery, was ready to jump his bones.
She leaned against the bar, forgetting the irritation over the bartender ignoring her. Her eyes dropped to his truly stellar ass just as he turned and looked at her. There wasn’t time to avert her gaze, nor did she really see the point. They were in the middle of nowhere Texas, two strangers, likely to never see each other again.
She was checking out his ass and didn’t plan to hide it.
What she didn’t anticipate was the intensity of his gaze. Dark eyes assessed her, taking her in from head to toe. He inspected her with such completeness, she felt exposed on some carnal level. Yet, oddly, she was at ease with the feeling.
She couldn’t help but notice the contrast in their appearances. He was dark, where she was light. His hair was black, as were his eyes, and his skin was a perfect light chocolate brown. She was fair, with hair the blondest of blond, porcelain skin, and eyes the palest of blues. Something about their differences made her feel a little thrill inside. The thought of her fair skin contrasting against his dark, her blond hair draped against his black, was enticing.
She watched him watching her. Those eyes of his, those deep, dark eyes, only served to enhance his quintessential sex appeal.
For the briefest of moments, she had the oddest sensation of being touched. Goosebumps spread across Jessica’s skin, her nipples tingled and then hardened, and a light ache spread between her legs. Shocked at the utterly sexual response he evoked in her, Jessica found it difficult to catch her breath.
No man had ever aroused her so easily.
Perhaps, it was her lifestyle that made her respond so readily. After her divorce, she joined the District Attorney’s office and had since been burning the candle at both ends, with little to no time for social affairs. Not that she was eager to jump into a relationship after her ex-husband’s nasty comments about her overall appeal. As hard as she tried to dismiss his harsh words, they had stuck with her. Especially the part about her being undersexed and outright boring in bed.
Funny, the wetness clinging to her panties didn’t make her feel undersexed. Quite the opposite. This stranger had her feeling quite ready to get naked and take him on in a little game of one on one.
She laughed and broke eye contact with him.
What in the hell was she thinking? She hadn’t had sex in eighteen months, and she was wet and wanting a man she didn’t even know. Was she insane?
Apparently, because her eyes moved back to her Zorro as if she was desperate for another glance. But it was too late. He had turned away and was paying the bartender, preparing to leave. Seconds later, his boots scraped the floor as he started towards the door.
She watched him saunter across the floor, his walk graceful but masculine at the same time. His hair fell down his back, not too long, not too short. It made her long to run her hands through it, to touch it and feel it draped across her body.
As he reached the door, she fought the desire to run after him. It was crazy but she wanted this man in a powerful way. Willing herself to stay in her chair, Jessica took a deep breath. And that’s when he turned, fixing her in a hot stare. In his eyes she saw the potency of a desire she had never experinced.
“Lady, I told you I ain’t got no phone.”
Jessica jumped as the harsh tone of the bartender drew her out of her private little fantasy and back to the reality of her situation. The beeping of her pager sounded in her purse as reinforcement. She didn’t have to look at the number. Her boss, Frank Simpson, had paged her three times in fifteen minutes.
This had to be about the Alvarez case. As lead counsel, responsible for prosecution of one the most sought after drug lords of the decade, Jessica was feeling the pressure to ensure a conviction.
Reaching inside her purse, she withdrew a twenty and slapped it on the bar. “I need a cup of coffee and a phone.” Her father and her ex husband had taught her well about money and power. They both wanted it. Unfortunately, so did a lot of other people.
The bartender smiled, revealing a missing front tooth. “You got it lady.” Moments later he held out a cordless phone to her. Jessica reached for the phone but he pulled it out of her range. “No long distance,” he snapped, giving her a hard stare that demanded a response.
“I’ll use my credit card,” Jessica bit out between clenched teeth.
He handed her the phone. “Don’t tie up my line too long.” And then he walked away.
Jessica wanted to throw something at him for being so belligerent, but she restrained herself. Settling onto a barstool with some effort, she was thankful she wore jeans. At five foot four, high seats and a skirt made being ladylike impossible.
The bartender pocketed the twenty and grunted before turning away. She doubted she’d get her coffee. Moments later, she waited impatiently as the phone rang.
“Frank,” Jessica said, the minute she heard her boss’s voice. “It’s me.”
“What the hell took you so long?”
“Good grief Frank, you’re the DA, not God. Give me a break here. You know I’m traveling. My cell has no signal.” In so many ways Frank was like her father. He wanted what he wanted at any price. Only Frank was direct and honest. Her father was sneaky and manipulative.
“I told you this was a bad time for a trip,” Frank grumbled.
Jessica frowned into the phone. “I only took half a day off. And this is exactly why I am going into private practice.”
He snorted into the phone. Frank had never been one on manners. At least outside the courtroom. “So you say but you’re still here. Actually you’re not here,” he corrected. “You’re there in Dumbfuck Texas right before the biggest trial of your career.”
“You mean your career,” she spouted back. “I told you months ago this was my nephew’s birthday weekend.” For way too long, she’d made her mother and her sister feel unimportant. Not anymore. Jessica bit back more angry words and forced herself back to professional mode. And Frank I turned in my notice. Next month is my last month. The end. Done.”
“What notice?”
“You tore it up but I made copies Frank.” She took a deep breath. This was getting her nowhere. He didn’t understand why she wanted to leave. She needed to make a difference. The DA’s office had become like a spinning top she never could slow down. Every case felt the same. They put people away only to see them get right back out. She needed to feel she made a difference and she didn’t anymore. “I’m ready for opening statements. I have it under control.”
“Do you?” he challenged. “We lost another juror.”
Her grip on the phone tightened. “What?” Not another one. This case had started out feeling like one last chance in her current role to make a difference. To play a key role in taking down a cartel. It was turning into a nightmare. “Who? Why?”
“Michael Walker. A car accident, but I don’t think it was so accidental.”
A knot formed in her stomach as she absorbed the information. “Alvarez is in solitary,” Jessica said, “and still we can’t shut him down.”
“This is why I didn’t want you to leave now. There are just too many obstacles for you to be gone. This is important.”
Jessica sucked in a breath. “I know, Frank.” She put up with Frank because he was honest. He might be a jerk, but he had the right goals in mind. “You know I want this conviction.”
She really did want this conviction. This one felt a bit personal. Drug trafficking was a personal issue to Jessica. Growing up near the border, she’d seen it destroy too many people. Her father had given her the chance to leave Brownsville and go to college in Austin. She’d had opportunities many of her friends hadn’t. Ones, her half-sister Beth, had missed because they didn’t share the same father. The thought brought a prick of guilt she shoved away. Really Beth had the better end of the deal. Beth had a loving father.
By the time Jessica hung up the phone, she was ready for an alcoholic beverage and she didn’t even drink. She pushed off the stool. She’d settle for a white mocha, but Starbucks had missed this part of Texas. They had hit every block in New York, and she couldn’t get a cup of decent coffee for 300 miles of Texas.
***
The last two putters of the car engine dispelled any hope that her trip would be a good one. It was bad enough that she had let the sexiest man she’d ever seen slip through her finger. Now, only a mile up the road, she was stranded.
Of course, she had made it into some dingy hotel parking lot. For that she should be thankful. Still, from the looks of the building, it was no great find.
Shoving open her door, she stepped out into the hot night air and stared at the blinking red sign. The wind whipped around her shoulders, dirt blowing at her feet. A storm was coming, and she had car trouble. Looked like she would be sleeping at a place with no name other than Motel.
“Great,” she muttered as she slammed her door shut and began a stomp towards the office door. She didn’t know a damn thing about cars. What kind of help was she going to get in a place like this?
Stepping into the tiny lobby that held only a dirty chair and a counter enclosed in glass, Jessica didn’t feel any more optimistic about staying here. She wouldn’t be sleeping much this night.
There wasn’t a person in sight as she stepped toward the counter. “Hello?”
No response.
Jessica looked around her, hugging her body with her arms. Deserted and a bit eerie was the only way to describe the feel of the room. She just wanted a warm bed and some sleep, dreadful as they might be. Tomorrow, with a broken down car, she already knew she would be in hell.
For tonight, she just wanted someone normal to come to that glass window and give her a room. Then, she would snuggle under the blankets and dream of the sexy Zorro-looking man from the bar.
If only he were here, getting a room with her. To be alone and naked with that man would more than make up for the challenges of the night and tomorrow. She could practically feel his body next to hers. Hard muscles pressing against her body, his hand on her breast, kneading and teasing…
Jessica mentally shook herself. What in the heck was happening to her? She never fantasized about men. Yet, now, in the middle of a crisis, she could feel her panties, for the second time in one night, wet with wanting.
She needed a room and sleep. She knocked on the glass. “Hello?”
Just as Jessica opened her mouth to call out again, an old man with a cigar hanging out of his mouth shuffled, feet in slippers, through a side doorway.
“We’re full,” he said grumpily, his wild eyebrows making him look like some kind of spook.
Jessica felt a wave of panic. “But my car is broken down, and I can’t get anywhere else.”
The cigar stayed in his mouth moving up and down. “I don’t know what to tell you, lady. First come first serve around these parts. Should have been here ten minutes earlier. I had one room left.” He laughed. “Not no more though.”
Sleeping in her car didn’t sound like a good option. “How far to the next hotel?”
“Three miles.”
Three miles…she could walk three miles.
“It’s the land of nothing between here and there. Pure ghost town.”
She frowned at the man and shoved a strand of her long, blond hair from her face. “But you won’t give me a room?”
“Told you, lady,” he said and had the gall to have a hint of irritation in his voice. “Don’t got one to give.”
Mumbling not so nice words under her breath, Jessica turned towards the door. Talking with this rude man was getting her nowhere fast. Pushing open the exit door, she stepped outside and was instantly slammed with a gush of wind and rain. Droplets of liquid gathered in her hair and on her cheeks.
“Can this night get any worse?” she whispered into the darkness, feeling very alone and on edge.
As she moved towards her car, the wind seemed to pick up several notches, throwing wetness and dirt around her body.
All Jessica wanted to do was get to Brownsville in time for her nephew’s party. And her mother wanted to talk about something. Whatever it was neither her sister, Beth, nor her mother, wanted to discuss it on the phone. Their secretiveness had her on edge, and made her feel like an outsider.
By the time she yanked open her door, she was dripping wet. The wind blew so hard she could hardly get into her car. Panic was building as she slid inside. She sat in her seat, darkness surrounding her, and for the first time since the night she found her husband with another woman, tears began to fall.
The turbulence that erupted, took her by surprise. So long suppressed, her emotions seemed to simply invite themselves to explode. Her hands clenched onto the steering wheel, and she rested her forehead on her knuckles. For long moments she could do nothing but let the tears fall, trying to understand what she was feeling.
This wasn’t like her. She didn’t cry. Getting to her family had just felt so important. She didn’t want to lose them again. Whatever her mom had to tell her couldn’t be good. Her chest tightened with the thought, and tears feel harder. God. She’d been so horrible to them. Turning her back on them for her father had been wrong. Living with him, law school, a new life…it had felt so important back then.
How could she ever make up for being such a jerk?
Thunder rumbled around her as rain fell hard against the windows. She sat in the middle of it all and had her own storm. Swiping at her cheeks, she reprimanded herself for being so weak. Lord only knew, her father had taught her how important it was to be tough. What she didn’t know was how much she needed that particular trait to deal with him.
Regardless, she didn’t have time for this kind of weakness. At least she was doing this alone. No one would know how to deal with an emotional Jessica. Once she got the whirlwind out of her system it would be done.
But then, she realized, that alone was exactly why she cried. Alone hurt. She laughed through her tears. Bitter. But it was damn sure better than being stomped on by people you thought cared about you.
***
Feeding quarters into the payphone, Dominic felt the rain pounding against his skin, a full-fledged storm giving him a beating. He happily endured the weather to ensure safe communication. Soon, the Alvarez Cartel would want him dead. Hell, knowing them, they’d want to cause a little pain and suffering first.
Wiping water from his eyes, he waited as the phone rang, thankful when a familiar male voice answered. “Joseph.”
“Hey, compadre. I was starting to think Alvarez’s dogs shot your sorry Mexican ass.”
“Not yet. They still think I’m one of them. If I’m not at the checkpoint by noon Wednesday, you know something went wrong.”
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Joseph asked.
“I’m the only chance Rafael had to survive. I brought him into the Alvarez operation,” Dominic said. “I’m taking him out alive. I’d just like to know how the hell his cover got blown.”
“I don’t like this. Tell me where you are and I’ll come get your back.”
“I’ll hit Matamoros by morning.” Dominic kept his comment vague by design. His location had to be guarded. Better safe than sorry. “By the time you’d get here, I’d be gone.”
“I take it you found your first target and it’s handled?” Joseph asked.
“Yeah,” Dominic said. “She’s clean. Alvarez hasn’t gotten to her.” He left out the part about her walking into the bar and seeing him. It was a complication that would have to be dealt with - just not now.
Joseph made a disgusted sound. “I told you Jessica Montgomery could be trusted but, no, you had to follow her around and see for yourself.”
“Alvarez got to at least one judge we know of, why not a prosecutor?” Jessica had been at the right place, on her way to Brownsville, at the right time. It had only cost him a slight detour to be certain about her. He’d learned a long time ago not to trust anyone he didn’t check out himself. Once his cover was blown, his life would be on the line. He damn sure wanted to trust anyone involved with this case.
Dominic looked up to find a woman running across the parking lot. “What the…“ He frowned. No. It couldn’t be. What was Jessica Montgomery doing in this rat trap? Of all the places for her to stop. There were much nicer hotels just a few miles away. And he knew she wasn’t getting a room. He’d taken the last one.
“What’s wrong?” Rafael said, urgency in his voice.
Dominic glanced at his watch. Time was up. “I’ll bring Rafael in and see you at the playground.”
He hung up the phone, knowing Joseph alone understood the playground to be the old cabin he owned on the outskirts of Austin. He started towards his room, heavy thoughts in his mind, the downpour around him ignored. In roughly twelve hours, Rafael, a good, honest man, would walk straight into a trap and death would certainly follow. Raf was too young and honorable to die at the hand of Alvarez and his dogs.
Unlocking his room, Dominic glanced towards Jessica. Why hadn’t she driven away? He went inside, locked the door and cut a path for the shower. His gun went on the sink. It was the closest thing he had to a friend right now. The kind that could save his life. But he didn’t linger even though he felt confident he was off the radar screen.
Fifteen minutes later, he had his jeans back on and gun in hand. He parted the curtains a tiny little bit, taking in the exterior of the motel. “Chingado.” He muttered the curse low and hard.
Jessica hadn’t left. Instead, she sat in her car, unmoving. Her car must have broken down. Under a tree, in the middle of a storm, and at night. Not a safe situation. Neither was being alone in a room with him. The attraction between them had been intense.
Dominic took a deep breath. He couldn’t leave her there. Yet, the very fact that she’d seen him in the first place meant he’d have explaining to do later. But what option did he have? With a curse, he grabbed his shoulder holster and pulled a shirt over his head. What the hell was she doing out there? People accused him of having a death wish. A certain white woman seemed to have one herself.
***
Jessica was just starting to pull herself together when a loud knocking made her scream. There was a man at her window. Her hand went to her chest, shocked at the presence. But more so because it was a familiar face. “Oh my God.”
It wasn’t just any man. It was a dripping wet version of Zorro from the bar.
What should she do? Let him in? Lock the doors?
She decided to crack the window. A little. “What are you doing in the rain?”
“You can’t stay in your car all night. It’s not safe.”
“Getting out isn’t either.”
“You’re under a tree in lightning.”
“You’re in the rain.”
“Trying to get you out of it.”
“I am out of it.”
“I’m not,” he said testily. His long hair was plastered to his face. “Come inside with me. I promise it’ll be safer than here.”
Water was splattering in her face. “How do I know I can trust you?”
He gave her a steady stare despite the water splashing around him. “You don’t.” He paused. “Room 112.”
Then he turned and walked away.
She called after him. “How’d you know I was out here?”
But he didn’t turn, didn’t answer.
Jessica sat there, fretting. Had she not wished for an opportunity to be alone with the very man who just welcomed her to his room? A man who offered to spare her a scary night alone in a car, under a tree, in an electrical storm?
Then thunder boomed overhead. She jumped and reached for the door.
Somehow, a night alone with her sexy stranger sounded better than a night alone in her car. Not thinking, just acting, she stomped through the rain, her purse the only item she carried with her.
Once she was at room 112, she stood before the door, dripping wet, hair stuck to her face and stared at the number sign. Maybe this was a bad idea? What if he was a serial killer, or a rapist, or…
The door opened.
Her mouth dropped. There stood her stranger with no shirt on, looking like a poster for the world’s sexiest man. His hair hung in damp strands around his face, barely brushing the tops of his muscular shoulders. He held a towel in his hand and interest in his eyes.
“Come in,” he said, stepping backwards and holding the door open for her. For the first time she realized he had a distinct Spanish accent. Not too strong, but evident enough to slip into her mind and entice a response.
She was so soaked in rainwater that she literally dripped. Without moving she warned him of her condition despite the fact that it was evident. “I’m wet.”
He smiled, a slow, sensual smile that said he read into her words. “Thanks for the warning.” He held up his towel, offering it to her. “I think we’ll manage.”