He’s an ex-boxer. She sips tea at philosophical salons. And when these two opposites meet, their lives will never be the same.
Lady Juliana knows someone is trying to kill her father. The problem is getting anyone to believe her. Her father thinks she’s imagining things. Her brother that she’s seeking attention. And the man her brother hired to bring her back home…well, he thinks nothing much of her at all.
Brogan Duffy has clawed his way up from the streets to become the lead investigator on his very first inquiry case. The fact that it is to retrieve a spoiled aristocrat playing at intrigue is of no consequence. Nor is the fact that she beguiles him like no other woman. He has a job to do, and he won’t let anything stand in his way, not even this illogical attraction.
But Juliana might not be imagining the threat. And when it’s her life that’s on the line, Brogan has to decide to what lengths he’ll go to keep her safe. Because in order to resolve this make-or-break case in his career, Brogan might have to hazard more than his heart. And with some gambles, there’s no going back…
Read an Excerpt
The door sprung open just as the cab started to move. Mr. Duffy clambered inside, his face an emotionless mask, and slammed the door behind him.
He settled next to her, facing forward, saying nothing.
Juliana twisted her fingers around her pocket-book. Her skin went clammy, then hot.
“Where to?” the driver called down to them.
She bit her lip, sliding Mr. Duffy a sideways glance. Even if he wasn’t here, she’d be hard-pressed to answer that question. But his answer would be worse than anything she could come up with.
She opened her mouth, but Mr. Duffy cut her off. “Vincent Street. A block north of St. Mary’s.”
The address wasn’t familiar. It definitely wasn’t her family’s usual London lodgings. “Where are we going?”
He grunted.
“How did you find me?”
“I followed you from Mr. Huddleson’s home.” He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “You don’t have that many friends.”
“I have plenty of friends!” Her face flushed. But most of them were also Snow’s friends.
She glanced at the door opposite.
Mr. Duffy gripped her elbow. “Don’t even think of it.”
“Jump from a moving cab?” She sniffed. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
He arched an eyebrow.
She grumbled. Well, she wouldn’t think of it, not when he held her arm so tightly. “I could always scream,” she said.
“You could,” he agreed. “Why haven’t you?”
She chewed on her lower lip. She didn’t think she’d ever screamed in her life, not a full-throated help-I’m-being-murdered kind of scream. She didn’t know if she could force the sound from her throat, not without feeling foolish. “Would it be effective?”
He snorted. “Definitely not.”
About the Author:
Alyson Chase lives in Colorado. A former attorney, she happily ditched those suits and now works in her pajamas writing about men’s briefs instead of legal briefs. When she’s not writing, she’s probably engaged in one of her favorite hobbies: napping, eating, or martial arts. (That last one almost makes up for the first two, right?) She also writes humorous, small-town, contemporary romance novels under the name Allyson Charles, and paranormal romances as A. Caprice.
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4 comments:
Sounds like a good read.
Sounds like a very good book.
Sounds like a good read
Sounds like an interesting read
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