By Rachel Caine
Together with her mystery heritage AND highway SMARTS, LUCIA GARZA HAD FEW QUALMS approximately TAKING THE DEVIL'S DEAL...The funds Lucia and her new companion acquired to open their detective supplier had include strings: any project brought through pink envelope needed to be best precedence. No sweat. nobody can make Lucia do whatever she did not think in--right?Wrong. Lucia quickly realized that each selection she made intended lifestyles or demise for blameless humans. nobody may be depended on, now not even the ex-cop she'd hired--and fallen for. in truth, Ben can be her deadly weak point, if the powers warring to regulate the long run used him to regulate Lucia....
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Additional resources for Devil's Due (Silhouette Intrigue)
And you two? " Lucia silently picked up the top red folder. Jazz sighed and took another half-dozen folders from the largest stack, the background checks. "I frickin' hate this," she said, and ran a hand through her hair. "I'm going to die of paper cut poisoning. See if I don't. " Lucia smiled and met McCarthy's eyes. McCarthy was, Lucia found, a good investment: thorough, efficient and effective. He knew his way around a computer, which was a relief, and his reports were composed, like Jazz's, in a brisk, no-nonsense style that laid out facts and conclusions in a logical fashion.
He nodded, as if that was the most reasonable thing in the world. " "You'll meet him later. Not that close a friend, she wanted to say, but there didn't seem to be any way to do so that wouldn't sound…ridiculous. "Sorry for the cloakand-dagger, but Detective Stewart seemed quite—intent. " "Thanks. " "You've already had a meal with me today. This should be Jazz's evening with you. " He looked at her over the top of those glasses, and the blue eyes came as a shock. Again. "Come. " She didn't need much persuading, and that was a traitorous thing, a thing that disappointed her.
She laughed and tossed back the rest of her drink. " She meant it lightly, but his eyes flashed, and she felt something bloom hot inside. Insanely hot. Ridiculously so. One glass of whiskey wasn't enough to make her feel like this. Not even one glass of Glenmorangie. "Careful," Ben murmured, and drank the last of his as well. " He leaned forward and put the glass on the side table, nest to the bottle of whiskey. " he asked. " "Can't have that," she agreed. " Lucia had a sudden, vivid image. No, not an image, really—a full sensory mirage.