Sweet Deception: HarperImpulse Romantic Suspense
Ally Thompson’s life is perfect. Calm, quiet, some might even say boring. The sole survivor of a tragic accident, she’s not the adventurous type—something she’s decided to change.One roller-coaster ride…A murder and a detective in disguise shatter Ally’s first attempt at “fun.” Detective Greg Marsing is everything Ally knows better than to want. The gun-totting, tattooed scumbags trying to kill her are almost a welcome distraction from her pointless attraction.Blows her world wide open…A contract on Ally has every lowlife for miles gunning for her. Sparks fly while she and her unlikely hero scramble to unravel clues. As the deadly game escalates, Greg has to decide if self-preservation rates higher than a love worth dying for.
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HarperImpulse an imprint of
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First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2014
Copyright © Angel Nicholas 2014
Cover images © Shutterstock.com
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to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is
available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are
the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is
entirely coincidental.
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Ebook Edition © December 2014
ISBN: 9780008126254
Version 2014-12-09
Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.
To my darling munchkins, for their tolerance of late dinners, forgotten events, a less than immaculate house, and my general distraction. I love you!
Nausea churned as the Roller Coaster of Death plummeted to the ground.
“I can do this.” Ally’s short fingernails bit into her palms.
The ride blew past her, blowing her hair back, the screaming of its occupants piercing her tender eardrums. Cold sweat popped up across her skin.
“Why am I doing this?” Oh, right. She’d gotten tired of listening to everyone else on the entire planet, or just her office, talk about the fun they were having while she went home to a glass of wine and a book. An excellent book, but still.
The ginormous roller coaster drew her gaze skyward. Some demented creator had produced a horrific edifice with tracks climbing high into the clouds before dropping to the earth and disappearing inside a concrete building filled with fog and general creepiness. The mechanical roar and screech of the amusement park almost drowned out the heckling of her inner coward.
The line for the ride emerged from the crowd, bringing her hesitant approach to an abrupt halt. People lined up behind her and milled around on either side, boxing her in. The cold sweat from earlier spread and she shivered. Fenced in, blocked, no immediate avenue of escape. She swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth.
A sweaty hand grabbed her arm and she jumped.
“Hey. You, you and you two come with me. You’ve been chosen for the best seat on the coaster.” The guy’s grin about split his pimpled face as he ushered them away from the disappointed crowd.
Ally followed in a daze, misty visions of dashing for the nearest exit tempting her. The best seat? She didn’t want any seat, let alone the best.
Arriving at their destination, the guy stopped and turned to face them. Pimple face, aka Mr. Obnoxious, gestured to the side with a flourish worthy of a grand ringmaster. Her jaw dropped. Surely not that seat.
Mr. Obnoxious grabbed her arm again.
Gritting her teeth, she yanked free and scrambled in on her own.
A juvenile delinquent, by the look of his saggy clothes and scruffy appearance, climbed in behind her and a blonde sat beside him.
The thump of a sneaker-clad foot on her seat made her swing around. Her gaze traveled up, skating over thick muscles, golden hair and bronzed skin; something clenched deep in her belly.
Ally swallowed thickly and averted her gaze as the leg’s owner dropped into the seat with casual grace. His leg grazed hers, the coarse feel of tiny hairs against her smooth skin foreign. Self-consciously trying to make her plump curves smaller, she glanced up through her lashes at the newest addition to the suicide machine. Shaggy blonde hair, the shadow of a beard darkening his square jaw, his raw masculinity short-circuited every one of her nerve endings. He had the kind of good looks guaranteed to bring women by the droves and fit her image of a typical California Surfer Dude. Her lips flat-lined.
“Alright, folks. Let’s get you all buckled in, safe and secure.”
Safe? Secure? Was this an issue?
Mr. Obnoxious grabbed the seat belts and buckled them around her before she even had a chance to lift a finger.
