Click on image to enlarge.
by Evanne Lorraine
Category: Erotica/Erotic Romance/Romance
Description: From the first glance, Desiree is drawn to Eduardo. The man is the stuff of dreams--rich, powerful, and smoldering with sexuality. His dedication to the foundation's mission, his fierce protection of his family, and even his wicked connection to the underworld only adds the cache of impossibility to his potent charms. Watching him is her job and a private thrill. But, she's much too sensible to act on her crush, risking her job, to say nothing of her heart. Then, he reaches out to her. The invitation is impossible to resist and everything changes. Eduardo has many secrets, and some aren't his own, but he's sworn to keep them. Since Desiree works for the enemy, indulging his passion with her is recklessly insane. However, it's even more impossible to leave her alone. As the attraction between them burns hotter, something more than simple desire glows to life. Caught between the love of a lifetime and promises he must honor, he can never have anything with her--except for a few stolen moments.
eBook Publisher: New Concepts Publishing, 2009
eBookwise Release Date: February 2010
8 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [151 KB]
Reading time: 90-126 min.
DJ went by her initials because she flat out hated her name. Desiree Joy made her sound like some kind of party girl. Dangerous Justice would've been a much better fit for her initials. At least in her dreams.
She was all about serving her country, fighting the war on drugs, and making a difference. Maybe, her reasons were more personal than noble. If so, it was totally her business. The only snag was that she was still waiting for a chance to prove she could handle an important assignment.
Her determination had nothing to do with a superhero complex and she wasn't a bleeding-heart do-gooder. Not even in the same area code. She still lived in the rundown flat where she'd been raised--on one of the meanest street in New York.
A talent for languages had gotten her foot in the door with DIE, Domestic Intelligence Emphasis, the hardcore homeland branch of the CIA. Recruited by the agency right out of college, she'd sailed through training with excellent evaluations.
Fast-forward three years, she was still translating phone conversations, emails, and occasionally an honest-to-God document.
For added thrills, now and then she got loaned to the forensic accounting team when the financial records were in Portuguese, Spanish, or French. Her lowly role provided a steady stream of dull with some boring tossed in to keep things from getting too predictable.
The reality, at least for her part, of the spy biz was zero glamour and less excitement. Sure, the work was important, but it was still a hell of long ways from kicking dangerous criminal butt.
She'd never risked anything more than eyestrain, paper cuts, and a spreading ass from pouring over transcripts and sitting in staff meetings. Stubbornly, she worked on her field craft skills, hoping someday she'd get out of the office.
When she'd first started at the agency's local branch, she'd fully expected hot sex to be part of her exciting new life. Somehow, three years had vanished without a single dangerous lover.
Not that she'd expected to get to be super-spy-girl right away. Still, more of the same was getting old. Worse, the rut was starting to look like a permanent career--an endless track of never going to be anything special.
Finally, she'd been sent to the field. The assignment was not exactly exciting. She worked second shift on a standard surveillance op, viewing live video of a suspected drug dealer and money laundering low-life.
Nothing had really changed, except the scenery.
The scenery was excellent. Too excellent. Now, she had new problems.
With her nose pressed to a virtual window, she ached for a man she shouldn't want, and could never have. Crushing on criminal was beyond stupid. Career killing choice came to mind. Crazy fit so well she was getting edgy about her own sanity.
Just watching seemed safe enough. Fat chance she'd get to do anything else. Her boss had flat out told her the only reason she'd been assigned to the case was because she was one of only a handful of agency employees, who spoke Portuguese.
Still, spying on Eduardo was totally a step up from paper pushing. Watching him was definitely not a hardship. The man was all prime male flesh, muscle, and bone. To her disappointment, during the week that she'd been viewing the live feeds of his apartment and office, nothing exciting happened.
Agency scuttlebutt said the man's dirty deeds and criminal actions happened off-camera at a private club. None of the DIE hotshot field agents had succeeded in breaching the club's security. Not for lack of trying.
The laptop's screen glowed to life, switching off her wandering thoughts. The motion activated video cam, turned on when the subject returned to his office. DJ sat straighter, focusing on the laptop's display as he shrugged out of his jacket. She fought for professional detachment, but illicit excitement bubbled through her veins as she watched him roll up his sleeves.
Come on, big guy loosen that tie. Let's get comfy. Everyone else has left for the day and it's just you and me.
She smothered a sigh of disappointment when the tie stayed right where it belonged. Dutifully, she watched for another two hours as he continue to work, fully dressed. Finally, he rolled down his shirtsleeves, straightened his tie, and then shrugged into his jacket.
The man was never going to strip in his office. Hope wasn't completely dead. He might take it all off at home.