Jill Sorenson - Tempted by His Target

Moistening her lips, she brought a trembling hand to her chest.

For a quick, hot second, he thought she might let the towel drop.

He pictured her untwisting the terrycloth and standing naked before him, offering herself.

In the next heartbeat, he’d have her legs around his waist and her back against the wall.

But she didn’t loosen her towel; she clutched it tight.

“I can’t.”

That made two of them.

“Why not?”

Her throat worked as she swallowed.

“It’s complicated.”

His raging hormones disagreed.

They said it was as easy as unbuttoning his trousers and urging her down on his lap.

“I like you—”

“I like you, too.”

Her eyes filled with anguish.

“You don’t even know me.”

“Then let me get to know you,” he said, frustrated.

“Why won’t you tell me what those men want?

What have you done that’s so bad?”

She let her shoulders rest on the wall behind her, staring up at the ceiling.

“They think I killed someone.”

“Did you?”

Her gaze reconnected with his.

“I don’t know.”

* * *

“Buy this book. I LOVED it.” – New York Times bestselling author Maya Banks

Dear Reader,

Thanks so much for picking up my latest book. I had a blast writing this one and hope you enjoy reading it.

Before we got married, my husband and I went on a three-week trip through central Mexico, visiting archeological sites, colonial towns and coastal cities. We had such a great time that we returned two years later to tour the Yucatan Peninsula. Being from San Diego, we’ve also crossed the border for many weekend excursions to Baja California. I love the warmth and vibrancy of Latin America. Viva Mexico!

With Tempted by His Target , I wanted to give readers a fun, exciting vacation in a foreign country. My heroine, Isabel Sanborn, is one hot target. She’s on the run and in need of protection when she teams up with the hero, Brandon North. This is a high-octane road romance, so get ready for car chases, close proximity, and sizzling sexual tension.

Enjoy!

Jill Sorenson

JILL SORENSONwrites sexy romantic suspense. Her books have appeared in Cosmopolitan magazine.

After earning a degree in literature and a bilingual teaching credential from California State University, she decided teaching wasn’t her cup of tea. She started writing one day while her firstborn was taking a nap and hasn’t stopped since. She lives in San Diego with her husband and two young daughters.

Also Available from Jill Sorenson:

Dangerous to Touch

Tempted by His Target

Risky Christmas – with Jennifer Morey

Tempted by His Target

Jill Sorenson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To Chris, my favourite travelling companion.

Brandon stood at the edge of the beach, where jungle met sand, and watched his quarry wade out of the ocean.

He hadn’t expected to find her this soon.

Izzy Sanborn, aka Isabel Sanchez, dropped her surfboard on the shore, sluicing water from her dark hair. Her bikini top was snug, clinging to her lithe upper body, but her boardshorts were too large, almost falling off her hips. She knelt down on the sand, her back to him, and inspected what appeared to be a broken fin.

His heart began to pound with anticipation. Puerto Escondido was famous for big waves, and he was almost as eager to paddle out as he was to get his woman. Oaxaca’s “Mexican Pipeline” rivaled the strength and size of Oahu’s North Shore. Surfers from all over the world came here to test their mettle.

Ms. Sanborn had quite a bit of mettle, apparently. The beach was deserted and the conditions were precarious. Surfing here with no protective equipment was dangerous. Doing it alone was damned near suicidal.

Brandon strode forward, aware that she couldn’t hear him approach over the crashing waves. He hadn’t planned to sneak up on her but he knew that she avoided strangers. She might bolt if she saw him coming.

Before he had a chance to announce his presence, she tilted her head, catching sight of him out of the corner of her eye. Quick as a cat, she leaped over her surfboard, drawing up the leg of her shorts. There was a dagger strapped to her upper thigh.

He was impressed by her quick reflexes, and more than a little concerned that she would try to gut him like a fish. Resisting the urge to drop into a protective stance, he waited for her to make a move. Instead of unsheathing her weapon and launching an unprovoked attack, she slipped her hand out from under the hem of her shorts and straightened. She also relaxed her face, as if nothing was amiss.

“I’m sorry,” he said, keeping a cautious distance between them. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She remained silent, her expression cool now, impossible to read. Without being too obvious about it, he studied her appearance. Her black knit bikini top molded to her breasts in a tempting way. She had a trim figure: flat belly, slim waist, curvy hips. Every inch of her was smooth and tanned and toned. Strong, but decidedly feminine.

He lifted his gaze to her face, noting that she was even prettier in person. Her features were well arranged, her mouth nicely shaped. With her thick, dark lashes and fine brown eyes, she was striking.

Brandon had seen her picture in magazines, and memorized every detail, so he shouldn’t have been caught off guard by her beauty. He shouldn’t have been dazzled by it, either. For some reason, she made him feel like an awkward teen again. The circumstances were unusual, of course. He’d never had a female target before.

To put her at ease, he repeated his apology in awkward Spanish, as if he wasn’t sure she’d understood him.

She crossed her arms over her chest, more annoyed now than wary. “I speak English.”

“Cool,” he said, flashing a friendly smile. “You’re a really good surfer. Those were some sick moves.”

“Thanks.”

“Too bad about the broken fin.”

She shrugged. “It happens.”

“This looks like a tricky break. And a sharp reef.”

“Yes. Not for amateurs.”

“You surf alone?”

“All the time.”

“Wow,” he said, shaking his head. “You have more cojones than I do.”

He’d meant that figuratively, but her gaze drifted down to the Velcro fly of his boardshorts, as if checking out his male anatomy. His stomach muscles tightened on reflex and she glanced away, flushing.

Brandon watched a bead of salt water travel down the side of her face, fascinated. Her complexion wasn’t so dusky that he couldn’t see a tinge of pink on her cheeks. He wondered if she was embarrassed by his offhand remark, or angry with him for invading her privacy. “Can you give me some pointers?”