Order audiobook at Audible. Lissianna has been spending her centuries pining for Mr. Right, not just a quick snack, and this sexy guy she finds in her bed looks like he might be a candidate. Her mother thinks she has the perfect solution, and serves up the therapist on a silver platter or at least a wrought iron bed. What kind of cold-blooded vampire woman could resist a bite of that?

Author:Kimuro Kigashakar
Language:English (Spanish)
Published (Last):13 September 2015
PDF File Size:13.59 Mb
ePub File Size:7.50 Mb
Price:Free* [*Free Regsitration Required]

Sighing inwardly, he shook his head as his sister rattled on, telling him what she had planned for the meal and so on, all in an effort to convince him to attend. Greg had no doubt it would be Anne, her husband John, and yet another single female friend she hoped to hook up with her still-single older brother.

Where are you going? I fly out first thing in the morning for Cancun. He was a typical workaholic, driven to succeed and willing to put in the hours to do so. This vacation was long overdue. Smiling faintly, he ignored it and pocketed his keys as he started down the hall to the elevator. Gregory Hewitt was now officially on vacation, and the knowledge made him relax more with every step away from his office.

He was actually whistling softly as he boarded the elevator and turned to push the button marked P3. The whistle died, however, and Greg reached instinctively toward the panel, his eyes searching for the hold button to keep the doors open when he realized a woman was hurrying toward the closing doors.

Greg let his hand drop away from the panel and stepped politely out of the way so she could select the floor she wanted. He gave her a curious once-over as she moved in front of him, idly wondering where the woman had come from.

Unusual and beautiful, they were probably the result of colored contacts, he thought, and immediately lost any interest in her. Greg could appreciate beautiful women, and had no problem with them making the best of their appearance, but when they moved on to this level of artifice to try to attract attention, he tended to be turned off. Shrugging her out of his thoughts, he relaxed back against the elevator wall, his mind immediately turning to his corning trip.

Along with the usual lounging on the beach, he hoped to get in some parasailing, snor-keling, and maybe go on one of those boat rides where you got to feed the dolphins. He also hoped So fit in a trip to the Museum Casa Maya, an ecological park with a reproduction of how the Mayans lived centuries ago and walking paths where you could see the local animals.

Then there was the night life. If he had the energy after his active days, Greg might just hit the dance bars like the Coco Bongo or the Bulldog cafe where half-naked people gyrated to deafening music.

P3 was lit up; parking level three. His floor. Nodding politely to his companion, he stepped off the elevator and started through the large, nearly empty parking garage. With half-naked women still dancing on the periphery of his mind, it took Greg a minute to notice the sound of footsteps behind him. He almost glanced over his shoulder to see who it was, then let the matter go. The sound was the hollow tap tap of high heels on concrete; sharp and quick and echoing loudly in the nearly empty space.

The brunette was obviously also parked on this floor. His gaze moved absently over the open space toward where his car should be. The large black PI painted on the concrete beam made him slow in confusion. Parking levels 1 and 2 were reserved for visitors to the various offices and businesses in the building. This is the right floor. There is the car ahead. He strode up to the lone vehicle.

He drove a dark blue BMW. But as quickly as that thought--with its accompanying alarm--claimed him, it blew away like fog under the influence of a breeze. Relaxing, Greg set his briefcase inside the trunk, climbed in after it, arranged himself in the small space, then pulled the trunk closed.


Lynsay Sands



A Quick Bite


Related Articles