People keep dying around Harper MacLain. Try as she might, she can’t stop bad things from happening to those she loves. When her closely guarded secret lands her in the middle of her ex-boyfriend’s investigation, she’s in over her head. She hates that Detective Lucas Sullivan is in her life again, tempting her to fall back into bad habits…and his bed.When Harper left him, Lucas tried not to care, burying himself in his job instead. Then Harper became the job. Now they’re on the run, and all he can think about is keeping her safe…and his hands off her. Lucas knows she’s the key to solving his case, if he can keep them alive long enough to do it. And that’s the trick…because falling in love can kill you.
“I’m sorry.” And he was. Sorry his damage caused her so much pain.
He leaned in, kissing her, putting the barest of pressure on her lips. It was a good-bye kiss, filled with all the longing, regret, and hope he’d been helpless to rid himself of this last year. He expected nothing in return. When she kissed him back, he forgot to be surprised. When she pushed him onto his back, rolled on top of him, and ripped the blankets and towel off her naked body, surprise was part of what he felt. When she kissed him again and this time straddled his hips, he was too aroused to do more than respond in kind. He tasted her neck, buried his fingers in her curly hair and slid his tongue into her mouth with a moan he hadn’t seen coming.
Harper dragged her palms down his side, and then up his belly and chest. Curving her body around his, tasting him, devouring the wet heat of his mouth. Her breasts skimmed his chest as her hair tantalized him, then Lucas rolled her onto her back without a second thought, positioning himself between her thighs. Then he froze. Because he wasn’t an asshole.
Harper pulled at him, silently demanding he kiss her again, but Lucas knew this was wrong. She was upset. She wasn’t in her right mind. The Harper of this last year couldn’t hold his gaze for more than a moment. This Harper needed something from him, but it wasn’t sex.
“Harper.” He barely recognized his voice.
Her breathing was rough and labored. He saw the panic and pain in her wide-eyed gaze. He reminded himself it was Harper who had left him last year. She didn’t want this. He rolled off her, as his gun on the side table caught his eye. Then all he wanted to do was kick himself. Shit. They were still in danger and here he was, letting his dick rule his head.
“We have unfinished business,” he said. “And this isn’t it.”
About Kris Rafferty
Kris Rafferty was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, the youngest of four in a rambunctious Irish-American family. She became obsessed with books early on, and remembers her first library adventure. She wrote her first story when she was six and never stopped. She received her BA at U/Mass Boston, married the love of her life, has three perfect children, and earned her third degree black belt in Parker American Kenpo Karate. She plays classical piano, loves road trips, and is a fanatic for warm water ocean. If she’s not writing, she’s reading all sorts of romance. Ms. Rafferty lives happily ever after in North Carolina, writing.