"I could not put this book down...Once again Dianna
has thrilled my suspense taste buds."
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To an undercover agent, Angel's a Person of Interest. Zane’s interested.
Escaping the compound of a deadly international felon--with a fortune in rare, stolen coins hidden on her body--elite athlete Angel Farentino has to make the most important run of her life. Literally. With her father in prison, where he belongs, and a prior undeserved conviction hanging over her head, she has nowhere to turn and no one to trust. Definitely not law enforcement who railroaded her through a judicial nightmare. One step ahead of lethal men and dogs on her trail, she runs into the arms of a dark stranger willing to help her if she’d let him. But that would only get the sexy pilot killed.
Between figuring out who’s sabotaging his undercover work for the DEA and trying to save his baby sister from herself, Zane Jackson has enough on his plate. The last thing he needs is to get entangled with a woman who’s treading on the wrong side of the law. But when the long-legged distraction races into the middle of his operation and stows away on his plane, a primal need to protect forces Zane to risk everything, starting with his heart.
"I could not put this book down...Once again Dianna has thrilled my suspense taste buds with an extra dash of spicy romance."~~ After Hours Rendezvous
Lightning crackled nearby. Close, but not close enough.
Escape tonight or ... there was no second option.
“Come on, God, please.” Angel whispered the desperate prayer for the hundredth time since midnight. But lights still burned through Mason Lorde’s opulent compound where she’d been imprisoned for the last ten days.
She had to get over this compulsion about being honest. The last time she’d done the right thing, she’d landed in a real prison with a warden and crazy female inmates threatening her life. That had been thanks to her father.
One more thing she had to get over. Trusting any man.
Wind howled across the beveled panes, rattling the French doors and sounding cold when August weather was anything but.
“I should have asked for a hurricane instead of a thunderstorm,” she muttered under her breath. But hurricanes weren’t as prevalent along the North Carolina coast as lightning storms. All she needed was a brief power outage. Not that she had any reason to believe in divine intervention at this point in her life.
A short life if she didn’t get out of this place now.
She rolled a golf-ball-shaped compass in her hand, a dangerous stress reliever. She’d stolen it from his office, and to hell with any guilt she felt.
It would get her fingers snapped like twigs if Mason caught her with his solid gold desk toy.
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