romantic-thriller

She was the kind of woman a person could die over or kill over.

How __out you, Jena?_ He leaned closer, speaking in an exaggerated whisper. __e could go somewhere private. I know you probably got some scars from being shot, but you can__ see a scar in the dark, right?_ The dickwad was offering her a pity fuck in a darkened room?

As he waited for her, he braced himself for the sight of her, ready to turn out the light as soon as she reached her bed. But when Daniela came in, she wasn__ wearing her nightgown. She returned from the bathroom in a bath towel. And then she locked the door behind her and dropped the towel. Drops of water glistened on her naked skin as if she__ been painted with diamonds. __hrist,_ he breathed.

When I was young, I wanted to be an astronaut. Someone who flies in a spaceship to the moon,_ he explained, in case she didn__ know the word. She thought about that for a moment. __ut you didn__ go._ __urns out I have dyslexia. It__ something in your brain that makes it hard to learn. Mine is not bad, just enough so I couldn__ pass the test._ ____ glad you didn__ go to the moon,_ she said. __ think it__ better that you came here.

In the middle of the house stood the largest, scariest man she__ ever seen. Senhor Finch had been sunshine, but this foreigner was a night storm. He seemed to fill the house like a dark cloud. Too big, too strong, his gaze too sharp on her. And as she turned to flee, he thundered, __top!_ And the next second, the man had her arm in his grip.

Everybody has scars; some are more visible than others, that__ all. But anyone without a scar is someone I don__ want to know because it__ someone who doesn__ feel things deeply. You have to understand loss to recognize a gift when you see it._ He leaned over and kissed her again. __ou are my gift. I want to be yours, if you__l let me.

I love you more than piranhas love chicken wings.

Is that right?_ she murmured.

Grant pressed his back against the outside wall of the turquoise and white two-story home he and a team of Miami PD officers were about to storm. On the surface the place fit in perfectly into the upper middle class neighborhood. On the inside, however, it was a fully functioning cocaine lab.

I think I've proved that I'm not to be trusted," he said."Then why do I feel safer now that I have in my entire life?""Because you're just as screwed up as me.

Since Paul wasn__ a big conversationalist__e was the anti-Mac, in other words, and today had been the longest she__ ever heard him speak in consecutive sentences__ena watched the scenery for a while. Then she decided to study the inside of Paul__ truck to see what she could learn about him.Technically, it was exactly like hers and Gentry__. It had a black exterior with a blue light bar across the top and the Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries Enforcement Division logo on the doors.It was tech heavy on the front dash, just like theirs, with LDWF, Terrebonne Parish Sheriff__ Office, and Louisiana State Police Troop C radios, a laptop, a GPS unit, and a weather unit.In her truck and in Gentry__, the cords and wires were a colorful tangle of plastic and metal, usually with extra plugs dangling around like vines. Paul__ cords were all black, and he had them woven in pairs and tucked underneath the dash, where they neatly disappeared.She leaned over to see how he__ achieved such a thing, and noticed identical zip ties holding them in place.__inclair, I hate to ask, but what are you doing?__e sounded more bemused than annoyed, so she said, ____ psychoanalyzing you based on the interior of your truck.__e almost ran off the road. __hy?___our scintillating conversation was putting me to sleep.__is dark brows knit together but he seemed to have no answer to that.She turned around in her seat, as much as the seat belt allowed, and continued her study. Paul had a 12-gauge shotgun and a .223 carbine mounted right behind the driver__ seat, same as in her own truck. The mounts had hidden release buttons so the agents could get the guns out one-handed and quickly.But where her truck had a catch-all supply of stuff, from paper towels to zip ties to evidence bags to fast-food wrappers thrown in the back, Paul__ backseat was empty but for a zippered storage container normal people used for shoes. Each space held different things, all neatly arranged. Jena spotted evidence bags in one. Zip ties in another. Notebooks. Citation books. Paperwork. A spare uniform hung over one window, with a dry-cleaner__ tag dangling from the shirt__ top button.Good Lord. She turned back around.__hat did you learn?_ Paul finally asked.__ou__e an obsessive-compulsive neat freak,_ she said. __ccent on freak.

I__e been waiting half an hour for you to wake up._ His voice was uneven and raspy. __s that right?_ she murmured.

Pretending to him that she felt something would be easy. Pretending to herself that she didn't? That was a whole other story.

Despite his soft speech, he stared at her as he__ like to eat her whole. Damn her traitorous body if that thought wasn__ such a bad one_. This could not be happening. She was on the run from a maniac and her hormones were going haywire. Clearly, she had issues.

I'm not going anywhere...

How do I say 'kiss me' in French?" she whispered."Embrasse moi."Oh yes, even that sounded better in French.

He__ danced around that story about why he__ moved to Terrebonne more smoothly than an Olympic skater on ice.

She would not have another man push her aside like some appetizer, there to wet his whistle only to be left once the main dish arrived.No more. She pushed her thumb into his throat a little harder.