Falling back in love with his ex may be more dangerous than being trapped on an islandâ¦
Brenna Colemanâs past has caught up to her on the island of St. Sebastianâ¦and sheâs not happy to see him. FBI agent Casey McBride has a job to do, and he wonât let feelings for his ex-fiancée foil his mission. While investigating the activities of Marcus Bradleyâa powerful billionaire commissioning a series of Brennaâs paintingsâCasey discovers the islandâs darkest atrocity. With Brenna at his side, he canât ignore the love they once feltâand still feelâfor one another. But as Casey keeps close watch on Brenna, one question remains uncertain: Who is keeping close watch on them?
She lifted her chin, meaning to ask him to back off. Mistake.
He was looking down at her, his probing eyes meeting her own gaze with such intensity that she caught her breath.
Green eyes. He had green eyes capable of registering a range of moodsâhumor, softness and, when they narrowed, a kind of tough, cold anger that could be dangerous. Could make a woman shiver. She had always been able to read those moods. But that had been then. Now she wasnât at all sure.
Managing to breathe again, she asked him curtly, âWhat?â
He didnât answer her. He simply kept staring.
âCasey, go away, will you? This commission is much too important to me to risk you screwing it up by your hanging around me like this.â
He didnât move.
Voice shaky now, his presence unnerving her, she pleaded softly, âPlease, just leave.â
Dear Reader,
I have to confess I have a love affair with the islands of the Caribbean and their people. Iâve been fortunate to travel to that area on several occasions. Each time I was able to visit different islands. No two are alike as far as looks, history and culture. The one thing they have in common is the fabulous colors, which are a joy to experience.
I knew early on that I wanted one day to set a Harlequin Romantic Suspense book in the Caribbean, but nothing seemed to strike the right chord. That all changed some months back when I met the feisty Brenna Coleman and the man from her past, Casey McBride. These two battling characters involved me in an incredible mystery on the island of St. Sebastian. Before you read on, I must tell you that St. Sebastian is not a place you can find on any map, but it does combine the best elements of the Caribbean. That being said, Iâll leave you here and let Brenna and Casey take you along with them for all the rest.
Jean Thomas
JEAN THOMAS
aka Jean Barrett, lives in Wisconsin in an English-style cottage on a Lake Michigan shore bluff. The view from her office window would be a magnificent one if it werenât blocked by a big fat computer that keeps demanding her attention.
This author of twenty-six romances was a teacher before she left the classroom to write full-time. A longtime member of Romance Writers of America, Jean is a proud winner of three national awards and has appeared on several bestseller lists. When she isnât at the keyboard, she likes to take long walks that churn up new story ideas or work in the garden, which never seems to churn up anything but dirt. Of course, there are always books to be read. Romantic suspense stories are her favorite. No surprise there. Visit Jean at jeanthomas-author.com.
To my brother-in-law, Lonnie Stellpflug. Hereâs the book I promised you, Lonnie. Iâm sorry itâs not one of the Westerns you love so much, but it has as much adventure and emotion as a stirring Western. Enjoy.
Prologue
Casey couldnât imagine what Will Coleman wanted to see him about. It had beenâwhat? Almost two years when theyâd last met? Not since... Well, no point in going there. It was enough to remember their encounter had been an awkward one. Understandable, considering the circumstances.
That was why Casey had been so surprised when Will called him this morning, asking for this meeting. Surprised and curious, too. He could swear thereâd been a kind of urgency in Willâs tone. And something else. A note of mystery, which Will had refused to explain over the phone.
It was this that had won Caseyâs consent to leave the warmth of his apartment on an afternoon like this one. Mystery being in essence his business.
No one could say Casey McBride didnât love Chicago. But, hell, this was April. The weather should have been kind. Not like this, with snowflakes slashing through the air, driven by a mean wind sweeping down Rush Street.
Heâd had to park a block away. A long block at that. Or so it seemed as, coat collar up around his ears, he finally battled his way to the door of Diggerâs Sports Bar.
Ah, shelter at last, Casey thought.
He stood inside the entrance, swiping the back of his hand across his eyes to rid himself of the tears the wind had provoked. It gave him a moment to adjust his vision to the dimness of the place.