A
fun weekend at a friends wedding in Denver takes a bizarre twist for Anna Scott
when her rental car is pulled over due to an "anonymous tip". In her
trunk...one dead body linked to warring crime families in Denver and New York.
It should be easy for an innocent woman to be cleared for an innocent mix-up.
But was it a mistake? The police aren't so sure, and neither is the crime boss
who wants vengeance for his son-in-law's death. You see, Anna Scott didn't
exist a couple of years ago, she knows way too much about criminal procedures
and about talking to cops. Anna Scott has a secret, and this twist of fate
could not only expose her, but place her and anyone close to her in danger.
Jake
Griffin is playing a dangerous game. He's spent the last few months undercover
in the Moretti crime family. Anna Scott is a big problem. Moretti assigns him
to find out who she is, what she wants, and to kill her if she's a threat. Jake
needs to keep his nose clean and focus on taking down Moretti, not a sexy woman
who is a complete mystery. He can't stop thinking about her; her knowledge, her
name, her dangerous associates, her fear, or the bone deep desire every time he
sees her. Nick's at war with the whole world over one alluring, yet vulnerable
woman, and he can't seem to stop taking dangerous chances where she's
concerned. The most dangerous of all might be trusting her with the truth.
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Excerpt:
Copyright 2014 Jennifer Zane
She
paused as if considering my words. “So, what? I’m the hit man Moretti hired to
off his son-in-law? Is that how you say it? Yeah, I’m a real professional.” My
brows went up at her sarcasm. “Caught with the body in the trunk. Really dumb
of me.”
“Or
smart enough to come up with a story about the whole car rental swap.” I spun
my finger around in the air. “Word gets around. I have to admit, I fell for
it.”
She
took a deep breath, let it out. Dropped her hands to her sides. “Earlier
tonight, at the reception, did you mean it when you offered to help me?”
“A
friend of Moretti’s is a friend of mine.” I wasn’t playing nice. Why should I?
No one in Moretti’s organization would be considered nice. I felt like a
fucking fool once. What was it with women? First Nadine, now Anna. I thought
I’d learned my lesson. A woman was never what she seemed. Never sweet and
innocent and wanting the simplicity of a man loving and protecting her. The
whole picket fence romance movie. Boy, had I been wrong. At least I hadn’t
gotten in too deep by marrying this one. I hadn’t even kissed her. Then why the
hell did her duplicity feel like a jagged sliver beneath my skin?
“You
don’t believe me. Wow.” She shook her head. “You’re one to talk. What’s your
real title, your real job? Thug? Murderer? Because you can’t just be a bar
manager. I’ve heard the term wet work before. I guess in your case it doesn’t
just refer to pouring drinks.”
She
thought I was a hit man? She was a piece of work.
“You
were a lot different a few hours ago at the reception when you made me promise
to come to you if I had a problem.”
“Yeah,
well, we’re not what we seem, are we?”
She
looked at me for long seconds. Just staring. I figured I’d get tears or anger
or even a slap across the face for my shitty attitude. What I didn’t expect was
acceptance.
“Whatever.
You’re going to believe what you want.” She gave a negligent shrug. “Nothing I
say is going to sway you.”
I
picked up a paperclip, unbent one of the wires. “It seems you’ve been in this
situation before.”
“Yeah,
you’d be surprised.”
Something
flickered in her eyes, but I couldn’t read it. Even if I had, I wouldn’t
believe what I saw. She was a damn fine actress. Should I be the one to tell
Peters and the others they’d been duped or let them figure it out on their own?
“I
didn’t come here to make you believe me,” she continued. “I came for your help.
You offered earlier, so here I am. There’s a woman who needs rescuing from a
bad man and I can’t do it by myself.”
“You’ve
got the karate moves to rescue someone. You don’t need anyone else, let alone
me.” I tossed the straightened clip back on the desk. Grabbed another. I saw
her jaw clench. I wasn’t making it easy for her. Like I really cared.
“He’s
a bad man. He’s done it before. I’ve got proof.”
“Moretti’s
a bad man. He’s done it before. You’re the proof.” I let that sink in for a
minute. “Moretti’s not going to let me leave Scorch and go off to New York to
save some damsel in distress, sweetheart. It’s not like we’re in the kind of
business that has vacation time and a 401k. Besides, why should either of us
help you?”
Her
hands clenched at her sides and I saw anger flare in her dark eyes. “Because he
owes me.”
I
laughed. “Owes you?”
“Yes,
owes me. The police are completely distracted by a dumb woman who got the wrong
car at a valet stand and got stuck with a corpse. They’re not paying attention
to who really killed Bobby Lane. They don’t really even care. I take it Bobby
wasn’t a very nice guy. I wouldn’t know since I’ve only seen him dead.”
Anna
had a dry sense of humor. She’d seemed so vulnerable and soft at the reception.
The woman in front of me now was completely different, all fiery spunk and
attitude. She was still soft in all the right places—my gaze roved over her
body, completely hidden beneath my jacket. But I couldn’t help remembering her
earlier, her curves hidden beneath, yet accentuated by the slim bodice of her
blue dress. The way she’d looked, surprised by the connection between us. How
her eyes had softened when I touched her waist. The way she’d been soothed by
my words after her panic attack. So which was the real Anna? Was it even
possible to figure out? Hell, was it worth the energy to do so?
“The
person who did shoot him got someone to take the heat for him,” she continued.
“Me. They couldn’t have asked for anyone better. I mean, look at me!”
She
was the perfect dupe; a woman in from out of state for a wedding, pretty,
educated, a spotless record not even tarnished by a parking ticket. Who’d have
considered her for popping Bobby? The police didn’t. I hadn’t either.
“The
murderer is completely off the hook and Moretti looks like the grieving
father-in-law,” she added. “He owes me, and I want him to pay up. With you.”
She pointed her finger at me.
“I’ve
never been propositioned quite this way before,” I murmured, tossing the next
unbent paper clip on the desk. “The door’s locked. You can have your way with
me right here. An orgasm would do you good. You’re too tense.”
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