Angel Nicholas - Dying for Love

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Death is preferable to what awaits in her forgotten past…Coffee is the only thing standing between Grace Debry and a straight-jacket since she gave up swearing in honor of her foster mom. A rash of break-ins makes her wonder if caffeine is enough. Especially when the notes left behind make it personal. Her brand-spanking new life is more nightmare than dream-come-true.All Matthew Duncan has wanted since hiring Grace is to have her in his passenger seat, his arms, and his bed. As they grow closer, the feisty brunette proves to be a handful—one Matt is happy to hold. He’s determined to give her the happily ever after she stopped believing in years ago. Unfortunately for Grace, it will take more than Matt’s considerable resolve to keep her safe.Three’s a crowd—not that he cares. Every move she makes, every breath she takes … he’s watching. Waiting to reclaim what he lost.Angel Nicholas pens another wildly passionate romantic suspense with Dying for Love.

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He nodded, his gaze unwavering. There was more than enough space between him and the wall to get past. Still, her nerves stuttered and her breath hitched.

“Well, I’ll just get back to work then.” She edged past him.

He didn’t move, but his brown eyes sparked with some emotion that made her long to further investigate this new side of her enigmatic boss.

Grace wasn’t too proud to admit she all but ran. Confused and alarmed by the arousal humming through her, she hurried back to the safe walls of her office. The comfy custom chair embraced her. The bubbles floating across her monitor mesmerized her.

“So, how’d it go?”

She startled like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Luke hung halfway into her office, staring with obvious lust at her coveted corner office.

“How did what go?”

He frowned. “The meeting with Mr. Duncan. I heard your report was late.”

“Oh, right. Well, uh, he wasn’t happy. He said to make sure it didn’t happen again.”

His eyes narrowed. “That’s it?”

“You needn’t sound so disappointed.”

Returned to his usual cheeky self in a blink, he grinned. “Hey, I fully intend to have my name on this door at some point.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Well, I hate to disappoint you, but you’ll have to wait until I either do something really stupid or get promoted.”

“No doubt. You wanna get lunch?”

Pulling out the estimates for the Peterson Project, she started sorting them into categories. Plumbing, electric, flooring. “Not today. I was industrious and brought a healthy lunch from home.”

“Far be it for me to compromise your lovely curves.”

She glanced up and caught his lecherous grin. “Practicing for The Shakespeare Festival already?”

The grin transformed into a pout. “At least you could pretend, Grace. You’re a beautiful woman. I’m a handsome man. Why not?”

“You don’t need me to stroke your ego. It’s perfectly healthy without my help. Besides, I adore you like the obnoxious brother I never had.”

Something flickered in his brown eyes. She laughed at his disgruntled expression.

“That’s revolting.” He stomped away.

As much as Luke enjoyed playing the office Romeo, he wouldn’t know what to do if she tried to play his Juliet. Body language was a hobby of hers and his screamed he wasn’t attracted to her, no matter what he might claim.

Mr. Duncan’s heated gaze filled her head. Now there was a man who didn’t pretend. What had he meant, he was interested in her? Because she was a benefit to his company?

He certainly hadn’t looked like he was thinking about business. The expression on his face, in his eyes. Well, he looked like he was thinking about soft sheets and sex. No, she must have misunderstood. Her foster mom always said she read too much into people.

The pang of loss throbbed. Laura had died a few months before Grace graduated from Purdue at the top of her class. She would have been so proud. If only breast cancer hadn’t cut her life so short.

What would Laura have thought of Mr. Duncan? Probably too stiff and formal, too precise for her taste. Laura had learned to live with chaos, setting aside her need for neatness and order in favor of unquestioning love. The foster children she’d accepted into her home, with open arms, demanded that and more. Laura had surrendered everything she had with a gracious sweetness that, years later, still humbled Grace.

A co-worker’s strong cologne drifted through her door. Gross. She wrinkled her nose. Mr. Duncan, on the other hand, smelled incredible.

CHAPTER THREE

Matt had gritted his teeth as Grace bolted from his office. Discovering her hovering outside his door, bracing herself to meet the Big Bad Wolf in all his toothy glory, had not improved his mood. He liked that his employees were terrified of him. It kept them on their toes. But terrified was a world away from the emotion he wanted from Grace.

Hours later, he still couldn’t get the disastrous meeting out of his head. The buzz of the intercom was a welcome distraction.

“A Mr. Whiles on the phone for you, Mr. Duncan. He’s a bail bondsman.”

Matt raised his eyebrows. “Put him through.” The line clicked. “This is Duncan.”

“Mr. Duncan, my name is William Whiles. I’m checking up on an employee of yours. Grace Debry. Can you confirm she’s employed at your firm?”

Matt hesitated. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your business.”

“Bail bondsman. Protecting my investment, ya know?”

Leaning back, Matt absently picked up an ink pen. “Really?”

“Yes, sir. You can’t be too careful nowadays, not even with a pretty little thing like her.”

His jaw clenched at the overt familiarity. “Miss Debry is out on bail?”

“Yep, that’s right.”

Matt’s gut tightened and he exhaled evenly. “What exactly was her offense?”

“Can’t rightly say. Not my end of the problem.”

She wouldn’t be the first employee to have a problem with the law, but he wasn’t buying it. “You don’t mind if I put you on hold, do you?”

“Not at all. You can’t be too safe nowadays. No sir’ey. You go right ahead. I’ll wait.”

“Thank you.”

Matt dialed Grace’s extension on another line and asked her to come to his office. From his company’s initial investigation and working with her for six months, she didn’t seem like the kind of woman to get into legal trouble. William Whiles, however…

Matt steepled his fingers beneath his chin. Why would someone call under false pretenses? Was Grace involved in something dangerous? Gambling? No. She’d bought a new car a few months ago. The dealership had called after hours to verify her employment and he’d personally taken the call. Drugs? No way. His protective instincts were warring against his usual level-headed approach, making him want to punch William Whiles in the face and ask questions later.

A soft knock, then the door pushed open and Grace peeked in.

“Please, come in and have a seat.”

The gentle sway of her hips as she approached was mesmerizing. He swallowed with difficulty, thankful for the cover of the desk. She glided into one of the chairs facing his desk and crossed one well-shaped bare leg over the other. Lusting after an employee was making office life horny…thorny. Pants tight, Matt shifted.

“Mr. Duncan?”

Right. Get a grip . “I have…” He glanced at his phone lines. The blinking light had stopped blinking. “… had a William Whiles on hold. Do you know him?”

Grace frowned and he tried not to think how adorable she looked. “No, I don’t. Why?”

“He claimed to be a bail bondsman and wanted to verify your employment.”

The frown intensified. Her gaze snapped to his, fair skin flushing then washing free of color. Emerald eyes darkening, Grace’s chin notched up. “I’ve never been arrested in my life.”

Husky with anger, her voice lit his libido on fire. The way she walked and talked combined with the fire in her eyes…Maybe he should call his secretary to monitor the meeting before he lost control, went into caveman mode and alienated Grace. Not to mention got sued for everything he owned.

The simplicity of her response and obvious anger evaporated any doubt and confirmed his initial suspicion. Too bad he’d inadvertently given the guy the info he wanted. “He claimed you were out on bail. I think he was just looking for information. Unfortunately, he knows you work here now. I’m really sorry.”

The tightness bracketing Grace’s mouth relaxed, but worry lines puckered her brow instead. His skin prickled with guilt. Her hair was pulled back in some sort of complicated twist, emphasizing her frail beauty. Granted, he knew she was far from frail after countless board meetings and watching her butt heads with misogynistic contractors. Her inner strength drew him as much, if not more, than her looks.

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