According to Plan -- Coming July 2015
Shelby Stewart’s been hired to find socialite, Harrison Grant.
To complicate matters her estranged husband, Jake Steele (aka Tank), shows up looking for Harrison as well, albeit for a very different reason. Harry is the prime suspect in the grisly murder of a call girl in L.A.
Frustration becomes Shelby’s newest partner as she attempts out maneuver her distracting husband in their parallel quest. Tank, on the other hand, is always one step ahead of the game—and is not what or who Shelby thought.
Their adventure escalates from attempted kidnapping to an explosion with deadly consequences. This is not your average missing person case.
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Headed for the door I stopped mid-step, my mouth instantly dry. A large man sauntered up the front walk and I’d recognize that swagger anywhere, Jake Steele, aka Tank. My heart began pounding against my ribs. From excitement or fear, I wasn’t sure.
Why couldn’t it be anger that had my blood pumping a thousand miles a minute?
“Where are you going?” Polly asked when I swiveled toward the rear of the building.
“Cover for me,” I yelled over my shoulder. “Tell him I’m out.”
With luck I’d escape through the back door before he saw me. I sidestepped the photocopier and practically flew down the narrow hallway. For one millisecond a twinge of guilt skittered through me, but I quashed it with a vengeance.
Six months ago I returned home from staking out a divorce case and he’d met me on the front porch. Said he had to think over some things. With that, he’d walked away from me, our home and our life. I didn’t have to be hit over the head to know he didn’t love me. At least not the way I loved him.
I blew out the rear door and had gone almost three steps when strong arms grabbed and twirled me around. He rocked his lips over mine, exerting just the right amount of pressure to make my head swim.
Liquid fire spread through my limbs and I ached to melt into his familiar embrace. When his hands slid down, my brain finally kicked into gear and I pushed against his chest. I may as well have shoved a brick wall.
“Is that any way to say hello?” With one arm around my waist, he dipped his head and attempted to steal another kiss.
I executed a quick side step taught to me by my dad and twisted out of his arms. His lips met nothing but air. I took a small step back and ignored the rapid tattoo of my heart. Tank had a way of making me forget things, like breathing.
“What are you doing here?” I said and spared him a glance.
Well over six feet, he had the physique of an oil rigger, built rock hard around pure muscle and adrenalin. A day’s growth of stubble darkened his jaw and hair the color of burnished oak brushed his shoulders. Although mirrored glasses hid his eyes, I knew one was green, the other blue, and they missed nothing.
“I was in the area and thought I’d come see y’all.” His voice poured over me like rich chocolate. Its deep timbre, as always, turned my insides to mush. My breath hitched and his knowing smile indicated he’d seen that too.
Without so much as a backward glance, I pivoted and started walking back to the office. He turned with me, pacing his steps to match mine. Awareness crackled along my skin when his arm brushed mine. If I were Super Girl, he’d definitely be my Kryptonite.
The bell above the door jangled as I entered, and Polly, all perky now that Tank was here, sat behind her computer with a wide smile. I glared and mouthed, ‘You’re fired’, but she ignored my dark look and batted her eyes.