Undercover Mistress

Undercover Mistress
Автор книги: id книги: 1854181     Оценка: 0.0     Голосов: 0     Отзывы, комментарии: 0 263,18 руб.     (2,64$) Читать книгу Купить и скачать книгу Купить бумажную книгу Электронная книга Жанр: Ужасы и Мистика Правообладатель и/или издательство: HarperCollins Дата добавления в каталог КнигаЛит: ISBN: 9781472078582 Скачать фрагмент в формате   fb2   fb2.zip Возрастное ограничение: 0+ Оглавление Отрывок из книги

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Описание книги

Exiled soap star Celia Cross had taken a lot of diverse parts in her life, but when she rescued a clinging-to-life man off the Malibu shore, she also found the role of a lifetime. Because said man was in fact a federal agent who had uncovered a deadly plot.And for once, «dippy» Celia was in a position to do some good. If only she could convince the rapidly recovering Roy Starr to cast her as his partner….That was something lone wolf Roy was extremely reluctant to do. His hesitations were twofold: one, the last thing he wanted to do was put his beautiful blond benefactor in danger. And two, when the play-acting was over, would he be tempted to turn this bit of stunt casting into the real thing?

Оглавление

Kathleen Creighton. Undercover Mistress

Am I delirious? Am I dying after all?

Undercover Mistress. Kathleen Creighton

KATHLEEN CREIGHTON

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Отрывок из книги

Breathing slowly and deeply, Roy took stock. Nope. Not delirious. There was a woman in bed with him. He could feel the warmth of her breath on his skin, the dove-soft tickle of her hair. With the utmost care, he turned his head. A deliciously feminine scent drifted to his nostrils. Ignoring the shooting pains rocketing through his skull, he tensed his face and neck muscles and aimed his eyes downward.

A vision of tumbled blond met his gaze—winter grass touched with sunshine.

.....

“How far away is this guy?” he asked when he caught up with her. Hobbling awkwardly as his bare feet made contact with shells or rocks buried in the sand, he hissed a sibilant obscenity and added, with a sideways glance at Celia’s feet, “How can you stand to jog barefooted?”

“I have eyes in my feet. And,” she panted, “it beats getting sand in your shoes. It’s not that far—only seems like it because of the fog. There. See?” She pointed as, at that moment, an obliging air current parted the fog like a curtain, revealing several piles of kelp ahead on the smooth slope of wet sand. Including the one that was larger and bulkier than all the rest.

.....

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