Senator. Before she can cozy up to her quarry, she must get past his
bodyguard, William Cassidy, her long-lost lover.
a Ranger badge. But he hasn’t forgotten the sassy siren, who toyed
with his heart. When Sadie proposes a truce, Cass suspects she’s
conspiracy in the senate. To stay alive, they must do the one thing
they’re dead set against: trust each other.
As the other players left the table, Sadie sprawled man-like in her chair, doing her best to look drunk and stupid. God knew, she’d observed enough rednecks to know how to mimic one.
According to the bouncer, Cass was hunting for her in the crowd. Sadie wasn’t surprised. In fact, she’d prepared. That’s why she’d donned a dingy linen sack suit (which was the ugliest thing she’d ever worn); blue-tinted railroad spectacles (to turn her amber eyes a shade of green;) flesh-toned putty to hide the freckles on her nose, and auburn facial hair. Knowing Cass as she did, she figured she was due for a monumental showdown.
Her mind flashed back to a torrid night in Dodge, when she’d insisted she was a business woman who would never give her heart to any man. He’d taken offense at the idea. When she’d refused to make an exception, even for him, he’d used his lariat to bind her to the posts of her bed. She could still hear his provocative drawl above her ripping breaths as he’d tantalized her feverish, sensitized nakedness.
A lusty smile curved her lips.
‘Stop that!’ her ever-practical brain railed at her nether region. What the Rebel Rutter knew about love could probably be poured into a thimble!
As if on cue, Cass tossed back his tequila, strolled to her table, and straddled a chair. She struggled to ignore the captivating shower of sparks that danced along her nerves. The crackle of current between her and Cass had always been like some hungry, growling thing. Never had it been more dangerous than tonight, when she had to keep her head cool and her heart hard to discern the truth from his lies.
He doffed his Stetson and set it on the table. “The name’s Cassidy,” he said in ironic tones. “William. Most folks call me Cass.”
“You got a name?”
“Depends on what I’m wearing.”
The twitch in his lips betrayed his mirth. He’d maneuvered his chair close enough for her to catch the faint whiff of sandalwood soap.
“Seems like we’ve met before,” he drawled.
“Must’ve been a past life.”
“As I recollect, you weren’t so fond of wearing a beard back then.”
“A wretched nuisance,” she confided. “It itches like hell.”
“I like it.”
Never missing a beat, she dealt the first hand for Stud Poker. The Queen of Hearts showed on her side of the table, the Knave of Hearts on his.
“How fitting.” His baritone was velvety, nearly a croon. Picking up chips, he tossed them to the center of the table. He’d staked 100 dollars.
Peeking at her cards, Sadie was hard-pressed not to sigh. They were crap, but she called his bet anyway.
“Don’t know too many men who wear sun-shades in a poker game,” he drawled.
“You calling me a cheat?”
“You wanna wrassle over it?”
“You’d only get whupped.”
He flashed all those pretty teeth. “That’s why I brought an extra lariat.”
She ducked her head to hide her smirk. Oh, he really was a cut-up.
lure the sinister jewel thief out of hiding, Pinkerton Agent Sadie
Michelson poses as a wealthy widow.
hatches his own plot to end Maestro’s killing spree. But his daring
gamble backfires and costs him Sadie’s trust.
between her mission and her gunslinging lover, Sadie must stop Cass’s
showdown with Maestro, or she’ll lose her badge—and her man.
(Scene Set Up: The book is set in Denver, 1883. Cass has just sneaked inside Sadie’s darkened hotel room.)
“Looking for someone, mister?” her voice was harsh.
Cass’s lips twitched. “They call her the Devil’s Daughter.”
A moment passed. Then a light bloomed at her elbow. She was lounging in an armchair, her chestnut mane spilling to her waist, lacy rosettes cascading from her breasts. The skimpy threads left little to his imagination. But what captivated Cass in that moment -– what had always captivated Cass about Sadie -– was the sensual fire burning in those hungry, tiger eyes.
“I got word you wanted me,” he said.
He hiked an eyebrow.
“But since you made the trip,” she said huskily, her trigger finger never wavering on her .32, “take off your clothes…”
Romance novels, where feisty Heroines buck the conventions and true
Heroes must be wickedly funny. Her critically acclaimed series
include Wild Texas Nights, Velvet Lies, and Lady Law & The
sopping-wet feline out of the bathtub. (Because Krazy Kat — who
thinks she’s a shark — gets her kitty jollies by cannon-balling
into the water while Adrienne’s soaking in it.)
See her post, “Help! My Printer Has a Poltergeist!” at
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