Sheryl Lynn - Easy Loving

Cover Page

Excerpt “We’re good together.” He plunged his long fingers through her hair. “You know I’m right.” His fingers slid from beneath her hair and trailed tenderly across her cheeks. Catherine’s belly ached in repressed arousal. Her chest ached with the depth of her emotions. Her eyes and throat ached from holding back tears. Intuition nagged her soul, telling her only Easy held the power to soothe those aches. She lifted her chin. His mouth, so perfectly shaped and sensual, weakened her resolve. “I can’t, Easy,” she said, pleading more with herself than with him. “I need you.” His voice was husky with sincerity. “I’ll never stop wanting you. We belong together and you know it. And I won’t let you marry another man. You’re mine.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR ABOUT THE AUTHOR Sheryl Lynn lives in a pine forest atop a hill in Colorado. When not writing, she amuses herself by embarrassing her two teenagers, walking her dogs in a nearby park and feeding peanuts to the dozens of Steller’s jays, scrub jays, blue jays and squirrels who live in her backyard. Her best ideas come from the newspapers, although she admits that a lot of what she reads is way too weird for fiction.

Title Page Easy Loving Sheryl Lynn www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dedication This is for John Hawk, wherever he may be.

CAST OF CHARACTERS CAST OF CHARACTERS Easy Martel —This private eye knows investigating a murder is way out of his league, but he also knows he’s the only man who can save Catherine’s life. Catherine St. Clair —The shy book illustrator has finally gotten her life right where she wants it, until Easy Martel reappears from the past. Jeffrey Livman —He’s the perfect man, smooth, educated, prosperous and sophisticated. There’s also a good chance his résumé includes murder. John Tupper —He’ll go to any lengths to bring his sister’s killer to justice. Trish Martel —Easy’s baby sister will do anything for her family, including tracking down a lost child.

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

Copyright

He plunged his long fingers through her hair. “You know I’m right.”

His fingers slid from beneath her hair and trailed tenderly across her cheeks. Catherine’s belly ached in repressed arousal. Her chest ached with the depth of her emotions. Her eyes and throat ached from holding back tears. Intuition nagged her soul, telling her only Easy held the power to soothe those aches.

She lifted her chin. His mouth, so perfectly shaped and sensual, weakened her resolve.

“I can’t, Easy,” she said, pleading more with herself than with him.

“I need you.” His voice was husky with sincerity. “I’ll never stop wanting you. We belong together and you know it. And I won’t let you marry another man. You’re mine.”

Sheryl Lynn lives in a pine forest atop a hill in Colorado. When not writing, she amuses herself by embarrassing her two teenagers, walking her dogs in a nearby park and feeding peanuts to the dozens of Steller’s jays, scrub jays, blue jays and squirrels who live in her backyard. Her best ideas come from the newspapers, although she admits that a lot of what she reads is way too weird for fiction.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This is for John Hawk, wherever he may be.

Easy Martel—This private eye knows investigating a murder is way out of his league, but he also knows he’s the only man who can save Catherine’s life.

Catherine St. Clair—The shy book illustrator has finally gotten her life right where she wants it, until Easy Martel reappears from the past.

Jeffrey Livman—He’s the perfect man, smooth, educated, prosperous and sophisticated. There’s also a good chance his résumé includes murder.

John Tupper—He’ll go to any lengths to bring his sister’s killer to justice.

Trish Martel—Easy’s baby sister will do anything for her family, including tracking down a lost child.

While hurrying across the parking lot, Easy Martel spotted his sister emerging from her Mustang. He lifted his gaze to the heavens and whispered, “Yes.” Dumb luck, his favorite ally, came through for him again.

“Trish!” he shouted and waved her toward his Chevy. She said something to the man who accompanied her. Easy urged them both to hurry. He flung his equipment bag into the back seat of his car. He slid behind the steering wheel.

Trish opened the passenger door and peered suspiciously inside. “What—?”

“Get in, get in. Your timing is perfect. I need your help. Hurry.” He glanced at his watch and prayed the traffic lights were with him. “Come on, Trish! I’m running out of time.”

She told her friend to get in the back. She sat in the front passenger seat. Easy gunned the engine and squealed out of the parking lot.

“Are you crazy?” Trish fumbled with her seat belt. “Don’t bother answering. You are crazy. What are we doing?”

“Going to the airport.” He looked over his shoulder at the stranger. The man was around forty, slim, with thinning blond hair and bulging eyes. Not one of Trish’s boyfriends, Easy surmised. She had a weakness for the tall, dark and stupid type.

“Wait a minute! I’m not helping you.” Trish emphasized the words by clamping her arms over her bosom and jutting her chin. “The last time I helped, that guy sicced a dog on me and chased me with a pipe wrench. He almost killed me!”

Trish was thirteen months younger than he, but they looked so much alike with their dark hair and eyes, people often mistook them for twins. Like him, she had an adventurous streak seven miles wide. He flashed his most winning smile. “I promise, no dogs, no pipe wrenches. I need to shoot some video. My client tipped me off. She’s positive her husband is taking his girlfriend on a business trip.”

Trish pulled a face. “You are so sleazy!”

“Me? This dirtbag tells his wife that he has to go on an emergency trip. Ha! He set it up so she can’t interrupt his fun.” He met the stranger’s reflection in the rearview. “Hi, I’m Easy Martel, the sleazy private eye.”

The man used a handkerchief to mop at his brow. “Uh, John Tupper.” He nervously eyed the passing scenery while Easy raced down Fountain Boulevard.

Trish twisted on the seat. “John, this is my brother. Easy, John works with me at the insurance company. He’s an adjuster. I told him you can help him.”

The majority of Easy’s business dealt with insurance fraud. In the past six years he’d become an expert at ferreting out cheats who faked injuries or lied about stolen property. He kept his eyes on the road, alert for any lurking cops who might object to his speeding. “What you got?” He stomped on the gas to beat a yellow light. “Fake back injury? Phony burglary?”

Trish yelped and clutched the dashboard. “Slow down!”

He turned onto Powers and checked the time again. The dirtbag’s plane departed in thirty-nine minutes. Easy hoped to catch him playing preboarding kissy face with his honey. He goosed the speed up to sixty-five.