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…
She rose and faced her friend’s floor-length mirror. She imagined a tall, burly figure, and dipped a deep curtsy. “Why yes, I would love to dance.”
A hard blue gaze flashed across her imagination. Those eyes belonged to someone completely inappropriate, but this was her fantasy, so she let them linger in her mind. She closed her own eyes and began to sway to the music. She raised her arms, as though holding her imaginary man, and fell into the rhythm of the dance.
The hem of her skirts whisked across the carpet. She hummed along with the music and wondered what it would feel like to have such strong arms wrapped around her body. The men of her acquaintance were all slender and sensitive.
Perhaps she should expand her acquaintance beyond philosophical societies. The male members were all kind and intelligent, but none of them sent a shiver straight down her spine with merely one glance. Perhaps—
One thick band, hard as iron, wrapped around her waist. One rough hand gripped her own, engulfing it.
Her eyes flew open.
The pair of piercing blue from her imagination met her gaze.
A shiver raced down her spine.
“My lady.” Mr. Brogan Duffy, inquiry agent and the man featured much too prominently in her dreams, inclined his head. “I’ll take this dance.”
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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