by Cherry Adair
GENRE: Action Adventure
Three. . .
T-FLAC operative Asher Daklin is running out of time in his race to end the production and sale of the word's most deadly explosive before a cataclysmic terrorist event occurs. This op isn't just his last chance at redemption, it’s deeply personal. Because of him, E-1x took his brother’s life and nearly incapacitated him. Now, with the timer counting down the remaining hours, he has to go deep under cover at the home of the mastermind producing the deadly explosive and stop him. Daklin can't allow anything, or anyone, to distract him from his mission.
Lingerie designer River Sullivan is on a mission of her own—to find her genius brother. When millions of dollars are inexplicably wired to her account she knows he's trouble. Traveling to the small mining town of Los Santos, situated in the mountainous jungles of Cosio, she accepts the hospitality of her brother’s employer and searches for clues as to Oliver whereabouts. If only she wasn’t overcome with inappropriate lust for one of the other houseguests- a gorgeous bishop with a warriors body and laser-sharp eyes that hint at deep, dark secrets.
River and Daklin find themselves in a race against time, hampered by staggering odds and overwhelming desire. Daklin has one final, desperate chance to prove himself, keep River safe, and save the day. . .
The three men got to their feet as she entered the room.
Bishop Tall and Surly took a ten second delay before he rose.
Resplendent in black robes, clerical collar, and a red sash with a heavy gold chain and cross, the bishop's latent energy, barely contained, seemed to pulse through him, even as he eventually got to his feet. Broad-shouldered, and at least six foot four, he had the tensile strength and lean musculature of a seasoned athlete.
Their eyes clashed across the room. Caught in the snare of mesmerizing pale blue fire, River was unable to look away. Goosebumps pebbled her skin and her heart started pounding as if she'd been running flat out. She'd never experienced such a weird physical response to a man before in her life. With effort she blinked, breaking the visual connection, although she found her reaction to him intriguing enough that it made her want to look again. River vowed to refrain from making eye contact. Better that way. Her heartbeat slowed dramatically when they weren't eyeball to eyeball.
He'd brushed back his hair, but it fell around his face to frame his features. River bet the slight wave in the glossy, dark strands brushing his collar pissed him off. Nothing soft for him, thank you very much. Instead of feminizing his strong features, his hair only made his strong face, with an aquiline nose, and dark, brows over hooded eyes seem more masculine. The shadowy stubble on his chin suggested he probably had to shave twice a day. His well-shaped mouth remained unsmiling as he watched her approach.
His riveting, pale, crystal blue eyes promised untold delights to anyone who dared breech
the darkness surrounding him. With his dark good looks and pale eyes, he looked like a fallen angel. How many women had succumbed to the smolder behind that clear blue? She wasn't that foolish. Fallen angels were wicked, and wicked didn't always translate into pleasurable.