Jenna Ryan - A Perfect Stranger

She’d fought the paranoid feeling when she’d entered the house.…

The alarm had been on, and Marlowe had thoroughly searched the place. But when he came back downstairs, she sensed a change in him. He kept his eyes on hers and his expression even.

It fascinated her how a stare could hypnotize her. She couldn’t have dragged her eyes from his if she wanted to. Couldn’t have stopped him from backing her into the corner and bracing his hands on either side of her head.

Good thing she didn’t want to stop any part of this.

Desire balled in her stomach. Hunger clawed through her veins. Heat flowed over her skin. All from a mere touch.

He inclined his head slowly, still holding her gaze, but even when she felt his breath on her lips, he didn’t kiss her. Instead, he wrapped his fingers around her nape and whispered the words she never wanted to hear.

“There’s someone in the house.”

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ISBN: 978 1 472 03540 0

A PERFECT STRANGER

© 2013 Jenna Ryan

First Published in Great Britain in 2013

Harlequin (UK) Limited

1 London Bridge Street, London SE1 9GF

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, including without limitation xerography, photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

This ebook is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated, without the prior consent of the publisher, in any form or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

All characters in this work have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.à.r.l.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-08-17

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To the seven angels:

Sheena, Maya, Mystique, Salem, Serena,

Mandalay and Scarlett.

Love you all.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jenna Ryan started making up stories before she could read or write. Growing up, romance alone always had a strong appeal, but romantic suspense was the perfect fit. She tried out a number of different careers, including modeling, interior design and travel, but writing has always been her one true love. That and her longtime partner, Rod.

Inspired from book to book by her sister Kathy, she lives in a rural setting fifteen minutes from the city of Victoria, British Columbia. It’s taken a lot of years, but she’s finally slowed the frantic pace and adopted a West Coast mindset. Stay active, stay healthy, keep it simple. Enjoy the ride, enjoy the read. All of that works for her, but what she continues to enjoy most is writing stories she loves. She also loves reader feedback. E-mail her at jacquigoff@shaw.caor visit Jenna Ryan on Facebook.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Darcy Nolan— A photojournalist, she was forced to go into hiding after she helped send a drug lord to prison.

Damon Marlowe— The ex-cop turned P.I. has a dark past and no reason to care about the woman he’s just exposed. But he does.

Vince Macos— With his father in prison, has the drug lord’s son sent a killer after Darcy?

Valentino Reade— A Philadelphia cop in desperate need of money.

Elaine Holland— Darcy’s editor wants that big story, and Darcy could be it.

Trace Grogan— Unpopular, untrustworthy and low, he works with and wants Darcy.

Hannah Brewster— She runs a boarding house and has more secrets than people might suspect.

Cristian Turner— Hannah’s nephew arrived in town the day Darcy was first attacked.

John Hancock— The creepy boarding house tenant spends a lot of time watching Darcy.

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Los Angeles, 2006

The police station smelled of sweat and stale coffee. It sounded like the bargain basement of a New York department store. And with the outdated central air-conditioning in desperate need of repair, it was hotter than the depths of hell.

Unruffled, photojournalist Shannon Hunt fanned her face with a discarded file folder and wondered how many stories could be ferreted out of this room by a canny fly-on-the-wall reporter. Dozens, she imagined, possibly more.

The amusement that tugged on her lips blossomed into a smile when Carmela Holden, a captain in Vice for thirty-plus years, strode through the door and barked her name.

“My office.” She glared at the desk sergeant. “No interruptions.”

Inside, Holden rounded her desk. “Dye your hair,” she said without preface.

Shannon’s brows went up. “Excuse me?”

The captain stared hard. “Dye it, cut it, buy a pair of glasses, sell your house.”

“Condo. And again, excuse me?”

“Frankie Maco got twelve years in San Quentin.”

“I know. I testified at the trial.”

“Testified and were threatened.”

“Very subtly, Captain, by a nephew who was high at the time.”

“You didn’t notice Frankie grinning like a Cheshire cat in the background?”

“What I saw was a grimace, probably of pain over his nephew’s pathetic demeanor.”

“A threat’s a threat, to my mind. And twelve years doesn’t cut it for me. I wanted twenty-five. He deserved that for the cocaine in his storehouse alone.”

Shannon knew where this was going. She’d worked at a high-profile L.A. newsmagazine for the past eighteen months, had, in fact, contributed a good portion of the photo and video evidence that had set Frankie up. “Come on, Captain…” she began, but Holden slapped her palms on the desk.

“No, you come on, Hunt. I have a daughter who reminds me so much of you it’s almost scary. All you’ve got on her is ten years, a skull as thick as granite and the tenacity of her boyfriend’s bull terrier.”

Shannon crossed to the desk, planted her palms on it and met the woman’s stare. “Flattery won’t work, Carmela. I’d look ridiculous as a brunette, and I’ve done my homework. Frankie Maco’s not a killer.”