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by Evanne Lorraine
Description: Regan Longstreet's mission was simple--play princess, get the terrorists, and get out alive. Falling in love wasn't part of her plan but, Ian McKnight was simply irresistible. When they'd worked together as cops, she'd fallen hard for him. But, knowing she would never fit into his world, she kept her desire secret. Now, he's the only man she can trust. Rating: Carnal
eBook Publisher: New Concepts Publishing, 2008
eBookwise Release Date: March 2009
12 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [413 KB]
Reading time: 235-330 min.
Seattle, Washington April 29th 6:00 PM local time
Had anyone ever died of horniness? Ian wondered, thinking grumpily that he certainly didn't want to be the first. How had he wound up celibate in Seattle? This was not him. This was not what he'd wanted. This was absolutely not what he'd planned. He'd loved sex--what he remembered about it. He frowned at the irritating patch of blue sky visible through the clouds from his office. Working on the seventh floor meant the sky usually looked dark, from being in the shadow of the taller buildings, which surrounded the Justice Center.
His phone played the opening notes from Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. He reached for it, checking the caller ID. "Hey bud, it's great to hear from you," Ian grinned for no particular reason, other than hearing Clyde's voice.
"You still at work?"
"Damn, you caught me at it again," Ian said with mock chagrin. "So what's going on with you?"
"Headed your way."
"Coming my way from where?" Ian asked.
"You're in town?"
"Got in a half hour ago," Clyde said. "Got your computer on?"
"Always, though it's not like you ever email me."
"First time for everything, Romeo. Check your inbox. I'll wait."
"Okay, bud." Ian cradled the phone against his shoulder, clicking on the email from C. Jefferson, which had miraculously appeared in his inbox. "It's blank, Clyde. See, the whole idea of email is actually writing the other person a note. But since you're techno-challenged, and we're already talking, you could always tell me about it."
"Very funny. Isn't there an attachment?"
"Matter of fact there is, but I can't open it because I don't have the right program or maybe the right clearance? What the hell are you sending me, bud?"
Swiveling around, Ian eyed the silver of blue sky still gleaming hopefully, the days were getting longer. Spring was coming, even the rain felt warmer.
"Okay, I faxed it. Did you get it?" his friend asked impatiently.
Turning back to his desk, Ian observed that sure enough the fax machine was slowly pushing out an ink-heavy page. He plucked it, still damp, from the tray, and then dropped it as fast as if it were tainted evidence. "Yeah, the picture of Regan came through fine. Is this your idea of a joke, Clyde? Because if it is..." he growled, letting the threat trail off harmlessly.
Laughing, Clyde reassured him. "No joke Romeo. And that's not Regan, that's the one and only infamous Princess Halle."
"Who the hell is this princess? Regan's long lost twin?"
"What's the matter, don't you folks get the tabloids out there on the West Coast?"
"I'm sure we do. But I don't read them," Ian said dryly, getting his emotions back under his usual firm control. "Why don't you fill me in?"
Clyde chuckled. "Maybe I should."