Tempting Trouble by Gennita Low

Author:Gennita Low [Low, Gennita]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: GLOW World
Published: 2012-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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*Be On Look Out, tactical term

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Grace pulled up at her apartment around midnight. Nice job, she mentally patted herself on the back. She had saved the scholar from the stupid senator and the evil Chinese dudes, and he would be with Lance’s people in a matter of hours. Hopefully, they would take care of him. She frowned. If they didn’t, she had—she groped for and touched what the scholar gave her before he fainted—these. She’d carefully wrapped them in tissue paper. When she got back to her place, she’d better handle them with better care.

She stepped out of her car. Ugh, she must look a sight from all that crawling around. She knew her hair must be mussed up, her dress was partially torn where she’d snagged it somewhere, and there was dirt smeared all over her hose. Grinning, she imagined herself looking like she’d been rolling on the ground with her date.

She gave a small shriek of alarm when a dark shadow suddenly loomed before her and grabbed her by the shoulders. Under the soft building lights, she caught a glimpse of cold blue eyes and a mane of dark blond hair before her lips were bruisingly captured. Struggling from surprise, she tried to pull from the big hands on her shoulders, but he only gathered her against his chest with brutal power. Her gasp from the impact allowed him to plunder the inside of her mouth, and he attacked angrily, his tongue punishing, his hands trapping her, his body pushing her against her car. Her neck snapped backward at the onslaught of his kiss.

Heat. It engulfed her whole being, burning recklessly through her defenses. She tasted rage and desire, knew she was irrevocably being shown who was in charge. In spite of the initial protests, she fiercely gave in to the storm of need that blanketed them both. Frantically moving closer, responding wildly, she tore at his shirtfront, even though he still held on to her tightly.

He demanded and she willingly surrendered. Almost.

“What in the hell is going on?” A furious and familiar voice shot out into the semi-darkness. Grace heard it over the crescendo of emotions and struggled to free herself. Her captor released her lips, but not the commanding hold of her body. She turned toward the voice and blanched.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

“Hell,” she muttered through passion-swollen lips, blinking rapidly.

“Grace?” The voice called her name, full of questions, mixed with incredulity and anger.

“Grace?” Her tormentor repeated above her turned head, still not releasing her.

She tried to step out of his arms, but they tightened like a predator around a prey. If he had sharp enough teeth, she distractedly mused, he would probably sink them in her right now to claim his killing. She slowed her breathing, telling herself to remain calm. Actually, she wanted to laugh. Hysterically.

“Who is he?”

Both men synchronized their accusations, one indignantly, the other in mocking reference. She closed her eyes briefly.

“Tim,” she managed to choke out, “wha…what are you doing here?”

“I told you I’d be here Tuesday night when I called.

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