The battle ended with Lucia pinned to the mat by Corbettâs lithe body.
She fought to block the bombardment of her senses. âSomeday Iâm going to beat you. When I do, will you give me a field assignment?â
Corbettâs sensual lips, enticingly out of reach, twitched into a smile. âI have better uses for your talents.â He glanced at the clock. âI imagine youâll need extra time to dress for ourâ¦date this evening?â
Lucia looked into his eyes and anger mixed with helpless longing. She masked them both with a teasing smile. âA date? Hmm, youâre hoping the assassin will strike again this evening, and you can hardly put one of your usual debutantes in the middle of a takedown operation, can you?â
She enjoyed a small sense of satisfaction when he looked taken aback.
Call it a date, if you like. I prefer to call it my first field assignment.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kathleen Creighton has roots deep in the California soil but has relocated to South Carolina. As a child, she enjoyed listening to old timersâ tales, and her fascination with the past only deepened as she grew older. Today, she says she is interested in everything â art, music, gardening, zoology, anthropology and history, but people are at the top of her list. She also has a lifelong passion for writing and now combines her two loves in romance novels.
Dear Reader,
Once upon a time, there were five talented writers of romantic suspense, diverse in age, nature and style. One day these five writers got the notion to write about a private security agency called the Lazlo Group. (Although nobody seemed to know much about this agency, and less about the mysterious Corbett Lazlo.)
Given that many writers consider writing for a continuity series to be about as much fun as, say, having a root canal, mammogram and bikini wax all on the same day, you might guess this response to the invitation to join them: âAre you insane?â
Naturally, I said, âCount me in!â
Why?
Well, Iâve had the pleasure of working with these five authors before. Then there was the fact that they let me have Corbett Lazloâs story. The Lazlo Group and its enigmatic founder had fascinated me since they were introduced in the CAPTURING THE CROWN series. Who, I wondered, is this man with no past? Does he even have a heart? What sort of woman could hope to capture the love of so private a person?
The answers, dear reader, lie in these pages. I hope you find them satisfying, and that you may conclude this book with the time-honoured phrase, âAnd they lived happily ever after!â
Kathleen Creighton
This is for Marie,
and also for Nina, Caridad, Lyn and Karen, some of the most fertile â yes, Marie, and cluttered, too, but in the BEST possible way â minds Iâve ever encountered. Thanks for letting me share the ride.
Chapter 1
The attack came in low, but he was prepared for it. He easily evaded what might have been a lethal blow with a feint to the right, and then, in a move as precise and disciplined as a classical dancerâs, spun left and caught his opponent in midfollow-through, squarely behind the knees. The attacker, expecting a death-dealing blow to the throat or sternum, went down like a sack of rocks.
Down, but far from out.
Corbett Lazlo had little time to enjoy his moment of triumph. Before he could deal a follow-up blow, his assailant arched his body like a bow and was on his feet again, circling in a half crouch, his eyes hard as bullets, a slight smile playing over his lips. Corbett stood at ease, balanced on the balls of his feet, smiling back. It wasnât a nice smile.
The next strike came like lightning, and, even though heâd been prepared for it, delivered a glancing blow to Corbettâs ribs. There would be a bruise tomorrow. He went down, exaggerating the effects of the injury, and when the follow-through came, he rolled and twisted his body like a fighting cat and came up on top, his opponent pinned with Corbettâs knee against his throat. He was now at his mercy; only a slight increase in pressure and the larynx would be crushed. The match was his.
After the briefest of pauses, Corbett removed his knee from the other manâs throat, rose and offered him a hand. When both men were on their feet, he bowed respectfully over his own clasped hands and uttered the traditional words of respect by the student for the master.
The other man returned the obeisance, then beamed upon Corbett a wide, delighted smile.
âBested by my own move! Excellent. It is the moment every teacher cherishes, when the student surpasses the master.â
Corbett grinned back, an expression that transformed his austere features in a way that sent a jolt of desire through the woman watching from the screened-off doorway of the dojo.
To Lucia Cordez the jolt was a familiar sensation, as was the ache of longing that came with it. Corbett Lazlo had been the most important person in her life for nearly ten years, but in so many ways he was still a mystery to herâlike smoke, she sometimes thought. Visible and real, but emotionally elusive, impossible to grasp.