Jean Thomas - Lethal Affair

Falling back in love with his ex may be more dangerous than being trapped on an island…

Brenna Coleman’s past has caught up to her on the island of St. Sebastian…and she’s not happy to see him. FBI agent Casey McBride has a job to do, and he won’t let feelings for his ex-fiancée foil his mission. While investigating the activities of Marcus Bradley—a powerful billionaire commissioning a series of Brenna’s paintings—Casey discovers the island’s darkest atrocity. With Brenna at his side, he can’t ignore the love they once felt—and still feel—for one another. But as Casey keeps close watch on Brenna, one question remains uncertain: Who is keeping close watch on them?

She lifted her chin, meaning to ask him to back off. Mistake.

He was looking down at her, his probing eyes meeting her own gaze with such intensity that she caught her breath.

Green eyes. He had green eyes capable of registering a range of moods—humor, softness and, when they narrowed, a kind of tough, cold anger that could be dangerous. Could make a woman shiver. She had always been able to read those moods. But that had been then. Now she wasn’t at all sure.

Managing to breathe again, she asked him curtly, “What?”

He didn’t answer her. He simply kept staring.

“Casey, go away, will you? This commission is much too important to me to risk you screwing it up by your hanging around me like this.”

He didn’t move.

Voice shaky now, his presence unnerving her, she pleaded softly, “Please, just leave.”

Dear Reader,

I have to confess I have a love affair with the islands of the Caribbean and their people. I’ve been fortunate to travel to that area on several occasions. Each time I was able to visit different islands. No two are alike as far as looks, history and culture. The one thing they have in common is the fabulous colors, which are a joy to experience.

I knew early on that I wanted one day to set a Harlequin Romantic Suspense book in the Caribbean, but nothing seemed to strike the right chord. That all changed some months back when I met the feisty Brenna Coleman and the man from her past, Casey McBride. These two battling characters involved me in an incredible mystery on the island of St. Sebastian. Before you read on, I must tell you that St. Sebastian is not a place you can find on any map, but it does combine the best elements of the Caribbean. That being said, I’ll leave you here and let Brenna and Casey take you along with them for all the rest.

Jean Thomas

Lethal

Affair

Jean Thomas

www.millsandboon.co.uk

JEAN THOMAS

aka Jean Barrett, lives in Wisconsin in an English-style cottage on a Lake Michigan shore bluff. The view from her office window would be a magnificent one if it weren’t blocked by a big fat computer that keeps demanding her attention.

This author of twenty-six romances was a teacher before she left the classroom to write full-time. A longtime member of Romance Writers of America, Jean is a proud winner of three national awards and has appeared on several bestseller lists. When she isn’t at the keyboard, she likes to take long walks that churn up new story ideas or work in the garden, which never seems to churn up anything but dirt. Of course, there are always books to be read. Romantic suspense stories are her favorite. No surprise there. Visit Jean at jeanthomas-author.com.

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To my brother-in-law, Lonnie Stellpflug. Here’s the book I promised you, Lonnie. I’m sorry it’s not one of the Westerns you love so much, but it has as much adventure and emotion as a stirring Western. Enjoy.

Contents

Prologue

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

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Extract

Prologue

Casey couldn’t imagine what Will Coleman wanted to see him about. It had been—what? Almost two years when they’d last met? Not since... Well, no point in going there. It was enough to remember their encounter had been an awkward one. Understandable, considering the circumstances.

That was why Casey had been so surprised when Will called him this morning, asking for this meeting. Surprised and curious, too. He could swear there’d been a kind of urgency in Will’s tone. And something else. A note of mystery, which Will had refused to explain over the phone.

It was this that had won Casey’s consent to leave the warmth of his apartment on an afternoon like this one. Mystery being in essence his business.

No one could say Casey McBride didn’t love Chicago. But, hell, this was April. The weather should have been kind. Not like this, with snowflakes slashing through the air, driven by a mean wind sweeping down Rush Street.

He’d had to park a block away. A long block at that. Or so it seemed as, coat collar up around his ears, he finally battled his way to the door of Digger’s Sports Bar.

Ah, shelter at last, Casey thought.

He stood inside the entrance, swiping the back of his hand across his eyes to rid himself of the tears the wind had provoked. It gave him a moment to adjust his vision to the dimness of the place.

Digger’s was the traditional sports bar. Big screen TVs located in several strategic spots. The upper portions of its walls hung with assorted jerseys. The lower halves devoted to signed photographs of players on Chicago teams—the Bears, Bulls, Blackhawks and Casey’s favorite, the Cubs.

He located Will’s lanky figure standing next to a booth at the far end of the room, signaling to him with a raised hand. Will could have had just about any one of the booths, since this wasn’t the Happy Hour for the newspaper crowd who frequented Digger’s. Casey could only guess that Will, himself a sports writer for the Tribune, had chosen both the time and the rear booth as ideal for a private meeting.

Casey joined Will. The two men shook hands.

“Thanks for coming, Case. I appreciate it, especially when...well, you know.”

“Water under the bridge, man.” It wasn’t, but why make the poor guy uncomfortable for something that hadn’t been his fault?

Peeling off his coat and dumping it into a corner of the booth, Casey slid himself in beside it. Will settled himself across from him. The server rounded the end of the bar and approached their table. Both men ordered draft beers.

Will was silent until the beers were delivered and the server retreated. Casey waited, pretending to be patient. Only when they were alone again did Will, leaning forward, speak.

“Sorry to be so secretive like this, Case, but word has a way of getting around when it’s about someone so well-known in the city. And I’d rather it didn’t.”

There was an earnest tone in Will’s voice, a solemn expression on his face. Didn’t necessarily mean anything. Will had the kind of long, thin face that looked serious whatever his mood.

Casey paused long enough to sample his beer, deciding he hadn’t tasted any better. Unless he counted a hot summer afternoon at Wrigley Field watching his beloved Cubs. “So, who are we talking about here?”