Published by Doe Bay Publishing LLC on October 18th, 2018
Purchase: Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo
Life could have been one continuous party for Seattle socialite Jordan Dean, the eldest daughter of a tech billionaire. Instead, she’s built a career as a physician and genetic researcher while looking out for her younger sister after the death of their mother.
Aiden Foster, Delta Force operative, is doing a favor for a SEAL buddy by temporarily bodyguarding Jordan. Despite coming from a privileged background himself, Aiden has zero interest in superficial debutantes, until meeting the gorgeous but tightly controlled researcher.
The simple, one-week assignment turns into a deadly game when Jordan’s sister is kidnapped by the Chinese Triad. The immediate assumption is that she will be ransomed for her father’s billions. Instead, the kidnappers demand Jordan turn over her cutting-edge research that could be sold on the dark web.
Aiden must protect Jordan from the violent gang willing to obtain her research at all costs. As the danger escalates, Jordan discovers she has been betrayed by individuals close to her. The only person she can trust is the man who’s been tasked with protecting her…but who poses a huge risk to her well-guarded heart.
Aiden manages to keep Jordan safe—until he’s ambushed and she’s taken. Now he’s working from the outside—and she’s using her brains to figure a way to keep her and her sister safe as well as her research. In an explosive finale, Jordan and Aiden take down the villain. Aiden’s one-week assignment is now far too short, so the couple begin negotiating something a little longer...
Jordan Dean couldn’t catch a break. There was no escaping the unwanted and, more than likely uninvited, guests this evening. Now Morley Townsend was in the receiving line. Her sister would never have invited Jordan’s ex, because Sophie knew exactly how Jordan felt about the possessive, self-absorbed millionaire. Morley was probably here as part of another of their father’s elaborate realignments of the people he saw as chess pieces.
How could an evening dedicated to global peace end up seething with such hostility, resentment, and homicidal urges? And she’d only been here about twenty minutes.
Jordan pivoted—intent on escaping to the balcony before Morley spotted her—and walked straight into a very big, very solid, very muscular wall. The sudden impact set her wobbling. The way this evening was going, she should have stayed in her flats.
The solid, muscular wall grabbed her elbows with hot, rough hands and held on until she was steadier.
“Running from a fight?” His voice was polished, smooth, and smoky, like the fifty-year-old Scottish single malt whisky Morley liked to go on about ad nauseam.
Jordan looked up…and up…into penetrating aquamarine eyes. A darker blue circle rimmed each iris, like a ring around an outer planet.
“Fight?” Her voice came out high-pitched and strangled.
He leaned closer and confided as an aside, as if they were well-acquainted, “First the itsy woman you nailed with your shoe. I was hoping to see more. And now, from the way you’re high-tailing it away from the door, I’d say you’re avoiding Mr. Zippity Slick…” He tipped his head toward her ex.
She twisted around to see Morley run his hand over his perfect hair, held in place by his designer clay pomade.
“Zippity Slick?” She could barely contain an unladylike snort, and the simultaneous urge to burst into hysterical giggles. Not the image Morley was aiming for with his pricey hair product.
Her muscular wall grinned, softening the razor-sharp angles of his cheekbones and making his light eyes even lighter. “An angry ex?”
Jordan’s mind raced, trying to keep up with their off-kilter exchange. This was the strangest conversation she could ever remember having, made more distracting because here was a man who easily put Chris Hemsworth to shame, with his shredded body and blue-flame-of-intensity eyes surrounded by inky black lashes.
What he was he playing at?
“Nailed it, didn’t I?” His warm, minty breath brushed against her cheek when he chuckled.
Jordan stared up into the enormous man’s piercing eyes, practically baking in his heat and virility. “Let go of me, or I’ll call over my bodyguard.” She hated that her voice came out puny and tinny.
He waited a second too long to release her arms, then moved in close, too close, further invading her private space. “You’ve got to be kidding.” He crossed his arms and grinned, his eyes alight with amusement and a challenge. “Go ahead. Call him.”
She quickly scanned the hall, looking for Harry and the crew who guarded her and her sister 24/7.
“Your bodyguard is sick. And you haven’t noticed that he isn’t here, have you?”
Her heart kicked into tachycardia speeding out of control. “Harry is sick?”
“Not Harry…Pete, the man who regularly guards you. You didn’t notice, did you?”
Jordan searched for Pete, a middle-aged, retired policeman who was a regular member of her security detail. He hadn’t been at his post, which this evening was at the door downstairs, vetting everyone who entered the building.
Relief surged through her when she spotted Harry, who was standing by the door wearing his rumpled navy blue suit and the burgundy Armani tie she gave him for his birthday.
Mr. Mountain shook his head. “Unbelievable. You have absolutely no situational awareness.”
“Shows how much you know.” Situational awareness. She had it in spades—no, in sharp-edged diamonds. She was hyper-aware of Sophie’s discomfort when greeting Rob Boyer, an associate of their father’s and married man who had been hitting on Sophie since she was sixteen…and of Laura Stuliley cornering Sarah Sorenson’s husband…and the tension between the elderly Dr. Levin and his hottie young bride.
Jordan wanted to defend herself, but she had a feeling he wouldn’t be impressed.
And she had noticed Pete was absent from the downstairs entrance earlier, before her little tête–à–tête with Georgette. But, honestly, how much risk could there be while socializing in a private room, in a private club, guarded by her family’s private security firm? Especially since Harry was here.
And who the hell was this man to criticize her…situational awareness…anyway?
“Who are you? I know you weren’t invited tonight.”
“Stand out, do I?” The edge was back in his voice, his granite jaw getting tighter with every word.
Interesting. Mr. Chiseled was sensitive?
Jacki is giving away a digital copy of Mission: Impossible to Resist
For a chance to win just answer this question:
When Jordan and Aiden first meet, each makes a quick judgment about the other that turns out to be untrue. Have you ever met someone and realized your first impression of them was wrong, and if so, what happened when you did?