3rd Place RS-2003 Booksellers Best Award!
Losing her job. A body in her new neighbor’s kitchen. Abducted at gunpoint. Claire Barlow can identify the killer. Now Ryce Knight must protect her until he testifies at the dirty Miami politician’s trial. But who will protect him from Claire?
Romance Author, Irene Estep
After she loses her job, Claire Barlow’s bad day turns worse when she finds a dead body in her neighbor’s kitchen. A bomb is just seconds away from exploding, when a madman shows up and finds her hovering over the body. At gunpoint, he forces her into the dead woman’s car and they drive away just as the bomb explodes.
Ryce Knight mistakes the woman for one of the hit men hired by the politician he’s scheduled to testify against. Somehow the bad guys have found out the address of his last three safe houses. Escaping once again, he decides, this time, not to inform the law of his whereabouts until time for the trial.
After he discovers Claire is his new neighbor and not one of the henchmen out to prevent him from testifying, it’s too late. She’s seen and knows too much and is in as much danger as he is now. Ryce feels he must keep her with him to keep her safe. However, he doesn’t count on his attraction for her creating a situation that becomes as explosive as the bomb they barely escaped.
He should tell Claire to turn the light off over the shower, and let her know that even the large sunflowers didn't hide her enticing silhouette from him in the one-room shack. He didn't know why he was torturing himself. He should be thinking about their survival instead of sex.
The few cans of food still lined up on the table wouldn't be enough to last more than a day or two. He had a gun, but Christ, he was no Daniel Boone. If he couldn't catch or kill something to eat, sooner or later they'd have to go into town for supplies. They'd be less conspicuous riding a white elephant into town than driving Barbara Coleman's red sports car. He heard Claire turn off the shower and he switched off the burner under the beans.
She stepped into the room, finger combing her tangled wet hair. With no makeup and wearing sweat pants that would hold three more like her, Ryce wondered why he still felt like jumping her bones. He'd seen bag ladies with more appeal. Too bad he'd already discovered what lay beneath the bulky clothes.