Freight pilot Abby Tarleton’s life has suddenly become very complicated. Her black sheep stepbrother is camped on a couch in her living room, her phone rings constantly with wrong numbers from strangers demanding that she cut or increase their orders of who knows what, and to top it all off, she can’t keep her eyes off her ruggedly handsome, and very married, next door neighbor and tenant, Sloane Jameson.
Sloane is encountering a few complications of his own. An undercover narcotics agent, he and his partner Connie are on assignment, posing as a married couple. Their job is to find evidence that will link Abby to her ex-husband’s drug ring. At first Sloane thinks the assignment will be a cinch, especially when he witnesses what he thinks is a huge pay off between Abby and a known drug dealer. What he doesn’t bargain for is his own feelings for Abby. How can he possibly complete his investigation when he has fallen in love with the chief suspect?
She had just finished tidying up after Adam's snack when the doorbell rang. Abby flung the dishtowel over a chair and grabbed Adam's sturdy hand. "Come on, Tiger. Let's go play landlord."
She opened the door, a ready smile on her face. "Hi," she said. "I'm Abby Tarleton." Her voice trailed off uncertainly. Standing before her, tall and straight like a towering spruce, was the sexiest man she'd seen in a long time. His black, unruly hair fell casually across his forehead, and the blue of his eyes was like a cold wave.
"I'm Sloane Jameson," he said with a deep timbered voice. "I believe you've met my wife, Connie." His flesh met Abby's in a warm clasp.
Abby hastily drew her hand away, shaken by her response to the brief contact. "Yes, of course." She turned to his wife, resolving not to look at him any more than was necessary. "Nice to see you again, Mrs. Jameson." Her voice stayed low and calm, giving no hint of her inner turmoil.
"Thank you. My husband and I are eager to get moved in as quickly as possible." There was just a tinge of frost in Connie Jameson's voice, which wasn't surprising, Abby told herself, since her new landlady was busy making eyes at her husband.
Abby dug into her pocket and pulled out a key ring. With an unfamiliar spurt of self-consciousness, she found herself wishing she'd dressed up a little. Suddenly her faded cut-offs and tattered tank shirt seemed woefully shabby next to Connie Jameson's perfectly coifed look. Even in the stifling heat, Connie seemed cool and crisp in a business-like suit, stockings, heels, and beauty parlor hair. Abby reflected ruefully that this woman certainly didn't need to worry about competition from her landlady. Her banker's veneer outclassed Abby in every way. Lifting her chin somewhat defensively, Abby said, "Let me just take you over and make sure everything's okay."
Gripping Adam's hand tightly, she walked with fluid strides to the other side of the duplex and unlocked the door. Sloane pressed past her and stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling it completely for an instant before giving a decisive nod of approval and stepping inside. He and his wife moved through the empty rooms, their voices echoing hollowly. Abby and Adam stood awkwardly in the living room. Abby tried not to listen in on the conversation, but couldn't help hearing Sloane Jameson's enthusiasm as he checked out his new home.
"This is just perfect, honey!" he called to his wife from the larger of the bedrooms. "It's much better than the apartment. Can you imagine?" he directed at Abby as he came back into the living room, his eyebrow quirked questioningly. "The two of us crammed into a tiny efficiency apartment? It will be great to have some room to spread out."
Abby tried not to be caught staring at him. "I hope you'll be happy here. It's a nice neighborhood," she said politely. She reached deep in the pocket of her denim shorts and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. As she handed it to him, her fingers brushed his and she had the wildest urge to jump back. "This is a list of phone numbers you might find helpful. Mine, of course, if you need anything. The numbers you call to set up your utilities, and the number for all the local papers. And, last but not least, the number for the best pizza in town. Free delivery!" Abby winked at him broadly.
Sloane turned his smile up a notch. "That is important," he agreed with a full-throated laugh.
"Oh," Abby reached one more time into her pocket and drew out a set of keys, which she dropped, into his outstretched hand, careful not to let her fingers touch his. "Your keys. Please let me know if you need anything." She grabbed Adam's hand and edged toward the door. "I'll see you later. Bye!" She slipped outside and made good her escape into her own side of the duplex.
Excerpt
He flicked a switch in the box in front of him, and with a crackle the noises in the next duplex became clearly audible. It seemed innocuous enough. Ned was playing with the baby, and Abby was fixing dinner. He could hear her humming an old folk song, could even hear the clank of her spoon against the side of the pan as she beat a soft rhythm to her song. Her voice lulled Sloane into a relaxed mood. They seemed like such ordinary people. Hard to believe they were mixed up in drugs, yet Ned could be arrested right now, should be arrested right now on the strength of the evidence they held at Headquarters. The only reason he was free was the hope that he could lead them to the man in charge.
And Abby… Sloane wrinkled his brow. There was no real evidence against Abby at all. But she was Joe Tarleton's ex-wife. And the letter from Joe had certainly implicated her. Somewhere out there had to be the evidence that would tie her to the ring. He and Connie just had to find it.
He had a hard time thinking of Abby as a drug dealer, though. Instead he kept remembering the sea-green sparkle of her eyes, the electric warmth of her touch. He snorted derisively. He needed a vacation after this assignment. Attracted to Joe Tarleton's wife after just the briefest of encounters? He'd been working much too hard lately.
Enjoy twists and surprising turns in this erotic collection of sexy love stories based on seven classic fairy tales. There are romantic interludes to touch your heart and plenty of scorching sex to warm your coldest nights.
Blending Southern Gothic mystery romance, fantasy, theater, dance, music, and flashes of humor, tells the story of a pair of lovers in two separate time periods who find themselves battling an evil fifty years apart.
