Diamonds Can Be Deadly
If diamonds were a girl's best friend…Then emeralds came in a close second. So when ex-model-turned-agent Jordan Colby–Code Name: Diamond–was sent to Kauai to find a missing green gem, she jumped at the chance. There was just one hitch: the presence of her ex-fiancé, T. J. Scott, a former New York City cop who'd turned his back on everything that had meant anything to him. Starting with her…Or had he? T.J.'s sizzling stares were starting to convince her that his feelings for her had never cooled, and his protectiveness convinced her that he was one of the good guys after all. But if there was one thing she was beginning to learn, it was that dazzling surfaces were no reflection of what lay beneath….
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âWell, hell. You really did a number on yourself.â
T.J.âs gaze had dropped to the middle of her chest. Glancing down, Jordan saw a mottled bruise already forming on the hand gripping the towel.
âItâs nothing. I just hit my hand on the counter when I went down.â
He crossed the room in two strides. âBetter let me take a look at that.â
âHey! Do you mind? Iâm naked here.â
âYeah, I noticed,â was T.J.âs response. âGive me your hand, Red.â
And release her death grip on the towel? Jordan didnât think so. âWhat are you going to do?â she jeered. âKiss the boo-boo and make it better?â
His grin slipped out then. The same grin that used to give her quivers. âThe NYPD first responderâs medical training didnât include kissing as a treatment option.
âBut Iâm certainly willing to give it a shot.â
Dear Reader,
Iâve visited Hawaii many times but was struck all over again by its beauty when my husband and I cruised the islands a few months ago. Jagged mountains, lush vegetation, steep ravinesânothing like all that wild splendor to fire a writerâs imagination and get her thinking about perfect spots for clandestine operations and/or buried bodies!
Then thereâs the romance of the islands. How could anyone not fall in love on a spun-sugar beach kissed by tropical breezes and soft, shimmering waves? Sigh⦠So naturally I had to set Book #1 in the continuation of my CODE NAME: DANGER series in beautiful Hawaii. Hope you enjoy the adventures of T. J. Scott and Jordan Colby, aka Diamond, as much as I did.
And be sure to watch for Book #2, coming from Silhouette Desire in May 2006. Set along the coast of Baja, Mexico, Devlin and the Deep Blue Sea involves a tough, sexy undercover agent, a chopper pilot working the offshore oil rigs and a particularly smarmy shark.
All my best,
Merline Lovelace
MERLINE LOVELACE
spent twenty-three years in the U.S. Air Force, pulling tours in Vietnam, at the Pentagon and at bases all over the world. When she hung up her uniform, she decided to try her hand at writing. Sheâs since had more than fifty novels published, with over seven million copies of her work in print. Watch for Devlin and the Deep Blue Sea, the next book in the CODE NAME: DANGER series, coming in May from Silhouette Desire.
For my sweetie and that never-to-be-forgotten
evening on the balcony of the Sheraton Hawaii!
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Prologue
It was the kind of party only Georg Vostok could throw, a fifty-thousand-dollar-a-head gala to benefit victims of the devastating earthquake that had all but destroyed his native Chekistan. Vostok had skimmed the very top layers of Palm Beachâs vacationing elite. Movie stars rubbed elbows with Armani-clad mafia. Politicians and poet laureates poured booze down their throats with equal enthusiasm. A sleek, wellknown madame smiled seductively as she sized up potential clients. There was even a smattering of royalty.
The arrival of an elderly French duke barely stirred a ripple of interest, but the American-born wife of the sultan of Dâhan stopped all conversation dead when her bodyguards escorted her into the soaring glass foyer of the Institute of Modern Art. Blond and bronzed, the sultana had traded her burqa for a strapless white evening gown that showed off her slender curves and formed a perfect backdrop for the Star of the East. The 900-carat oval emerald was set in a plain gold bezel suspended from a gold chain. Shooting sparks of green fire, it drew every eye at the gala.
A smile rearranged the lines of Georgâs dour, craggy face. Thrusting his Baccarat champagne flute at a waiter, he hurried forward to greet her. âBarbara. You have come!â
The sultana brushed past her bodyguards, took Vostokâs outstretched hands and stooped for a kiss. âFor you, my darling Georg, anytime.â
âNo, no! For my beloved Chekistan.â His smile faded. âYou cannot imagine the horror. I tell you, Barbara, I have seen nothing like it. It haunts my dreams, my every waking moment.â
âWeâll help, Georg. My husband has earmarked fifty million for immediate aid, and weâllââ
She broke off, her delicate nose wrinkling. She was too well mannered to mention the odd smell, but her host had already picked up on it. Frowning, Vostok sniffed the air.
âWhat is this stink? Excuse me, Barbara. I mustââ
Thatâs all he got out before he gave a small, in- articulate grunt. His eyes rolling back in his head, he slumped to the floor.
âSultana!â
The bodyguards shoved forward, but before they could reach their charge, her legs seemed to give out and she crumpled where she stood. The larger of the two men went down almost on top of her. The other dropped like a felled ox a few feet away.
An aged dowager in a collar of priceless pearls let out a shrill scream. Her thirty-something escort cursed. A tuxedo-clad waiter dropped a tray of champagne flutes and stumbled to his knees.
