The last thing he wanted...
Was what he needed most.
"NOT WITHOUT RISK is a gripping suspense, rife with raging sexual passion and spellbinding intrigue... This one is a must read!" - The Romance Studio
NOT WITHOUT RISK
The Wild Rose Press
Six agonizing months after a slug collapsed his lung, Sergeant Justin Harrison manages to return to the one place where he shines—the San Diego homicide division. Nothing will stand in the way of proving he is fit for active duty. Especially not the long-legged brunette who just stumbled into his crime scene.
Photographer Paige Conroy spent years hiding from her past. Then a late night telephone call brings it crashing back. An old friend is in town and needs her help. When she arrives at his hotel room four hours later, he's dead. Suddenly, she's the target of a madman, and Paige must turn to Sergeant Harrison for protection.
But who is the bigger threat to her... the faceless assailant she fears will steal her life or the dark-eyed detective she knows could steal her heart?
EXCERPT:
Justin’s frown deepened. “I know what you’re thinking, you know. And you’re wrong.”
Paige swallowed past the lump in her throat. “What am I thinking?”
“Making choices that keep you alive does not make you weak. It would be much simpler to just give up and let this bastard win.”
“I could stay where I am, refuse to run and face him.”
“You could die in the process.”
The thought sent a ripple of alarm through Justin. What if she refused? He couldn’t hog-tie her, couldn’t make her come with him. He understood her ill-ease, for he felt the same stirrings of discomfort as she at the low hum of sensual awareness that circled about them like a hungry shark. Even right now, he had to fight against the urge to haul her into his arms. And not to ease the clawing panic clearly visible in her eyes. No, his motives were not that heroic.
Against his better judgment, he allowed his gaze to drop, to caress the shape of her body outlined by her suit. He knew just what that suit of hers covered for he’d had his hands all over her just the night before. A high, tight rear end, slim hips, endlessly long legs that would pull him deep into her warmth. Desire shot straight to his stomach, swirled there. The palms of his hands begin to itch.
Paige wore her clothing like armor, each piece carefully chosen to broadcast an image, a strength she alone believed she lacked. She’d have chosen this one to disguise the fear he knew filled her. To tell him, in no uncertain terms, that she could handle anything thrown her way.
Anything.
Even the need to turn to him for help.
God, she impressed him. Aroused him, challenged him as no other before her had done. Justin scrubbed a frustrated hand across his face. He focused on the cool green gaze of the woman before him, the woman his brain told him to stay away from. He’d yet to fully recover from his injury. The last thing he needed was to get involved with a woman who screamed commitment. He was a loner. He didn’t do commitment.
His body wasn’t listening. He wanted Paige. Above him, below him, it didn’t matter. He knew it was bad timing, but he wanted her just the same. And he would have her, sooner or later. If he had to keep his hands in his pockets, pants zipped until the threat that chased her was destroyed, he would. He could.
“Suppose I promised not to do anything you don’t ask me to do?”
Paige eased out a breath. “What if I said, it isn’t you I worry about?”
Shock and awareness filled him, stole his ability to reply. Heat surged through his limbs, tingled in his side. A groan slid past his clenched lips. Justin curled his fingers around her upper arm and urged her a step closer to him. He drew the scent of her greedily into his lungs, wanting more than ever before to cover her mouth with his.
“How do you expect me to ignore a comment like that?” he asked roughly, his palm drifting upward to cup the side of her throat.
Enough color flashed into her face to tell him she hadn’t meant to reveal that bit of information to him. The fingers of her left hand locked around his wrist. “I don’t.”
Paige swallowed past the lump in her throat. “What am I thinking?”
“Making choices that keep you alive does not make you weak. It would be much simpler to just give up and let this bastard win.”
“I could stay where I am, refuse to run and face him.”
“You could die in the process.”
The thought sent a ripple of alarm through Justin. What if she refused? He couldn’t hog-tie her, couldn’t make her come with him. He understood her ill-ease, for he felt the same stirrings of discomfort as she at the low hum of sensual awareness that circled about them like a hungry shark. Even right now, he had to fight against the urge to haul her into his arms. And not to ease the clawing panic clearly visible in her eyes. No, his motives were not that heroic.
Against his better judgment, he allowed his gaze to drop, to caress the shape of her body outlined by her suit. He knew just what that suit of hers covered for he’d had his hands all over her just the night before. A high, tight rear end, slim hips, endlessly long legs that would pull him deep into her warmth. Desire shot straight to his stomach, swirled there. The palms of his hands begin to itch.
Paige wore her clothing like armor, each piece carefully chosen to broadcast an image, a strength she alone believed she lacked. She’d have chosen this one to disguise the fear he knew filled her. To tell him, in no uncertain terms, that she could handle anything thrown her way.
Anything.
Even the need to turn to him for help.
God, she impressed him. Aroused him, challenged him as no other before her had done. Justin scrubbed a frustrated hand across his face. He focused on the cool green gaze of the woman before him, the woman his brain told him to stay away from. He’d yet to fully recover from his injury. The last thing he needed was to get involved with a woman who screamed commitment. He was a loner. He didn’t do commitment.
His body wasn’t listening. He wanted Paige. Above him, below him, it didn’t matter. He knew it was bad timing, but he wanted her just the same. And he would have her, sooner or later. If he had to keep his hands in his pockets, pants zipped until the threat that chased her was destroyed, he would. He could.
“Suppose I promised not to do anything you don’t ask me to do?”
Paige eased out a breath. “What if I said, it isn’t you I worry about?”
Shock and awareness filled him, stole his ability to reply. Heat surged through his limbs, tingled in his side. A groan slid past his clenched lips. Justin curled his fingers around her upper arm and urged her a step closer to him. He drew the scent of her greedily into his lungs, wanting more than ever before to cover her mouth with his.
“How do you expect me to ignore a comment like that?” he asked roughly, his palm drifting upward to cup the side of her throat.
Enough color flashed into her face to tell him she hadn’t meant to reveal that bit of information to him. The fingers of her left hand locked around his wrist. “I don’t.”
Sarah Grimm
dangerously sexy suspense
dangerously sexy suspense
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