Taking Care of the Target is out now!!!
Here’s a fun excerpt:
He shouldered his bag and reached for Cassie’s hand, but she was focused on trying to tug her skirt closed. The seam had ripped all the way up, exposing most of her thigh. “As if I needed to show any more leg in this dress.”
“Personally, I like it.”
She looked up at him. He wanted to see in her eyes that they were okay, but he’d settle for her being okay. For the first time in a long time, he couldn’t get a read on her. She had to be close to breaking—he figured it’d come out as either anger or yelling or tears—but her face was blank, only a hint of exhaustion in her pretty features.
They walked to the office, and Vince held the door open. Cassie pushed past him, her bare shoulder brushing his chest. The room was tiny and warm with a pamphlet-filled stand on nearby activities. As luck would have it, the motel clerk at the desk was female—that’d make this a lot easier.
The brunette’s gaze remained fixed on the phone in her hand, but when Vince cleared his throat, she looked up. Her eyes went wide, and then a smile spread across her face.
“We need a room for the night,” he said.
The clerk glanced at Cassie, seeming to notice her presence for the first time. Cassie ran a hand down her hair. After being shot at, fleeing for her life, and a long drive, she was still the prettiest thing he’d ever seen. His gaze moved to that slit and the creamy exposed skin of her thigh, and then he got distracted, thinking about running his hand up her leg.
“Name?”
Vince jerked his attention back to the girl behind the desk. “Mark Jones,” he said, producing a driver’s license with that alias. They only had two vacant rooms, both with king beds.
He told her he’d take one without checking to see how unhappy Cassie looked about the news. If he had to, he could sleep on the floor. When the clerk asked for a credit card, he handed her cash instead.
“I’m sorry, but we need a credit card for incidentals,” she said.
“I’ll pay a cash deposit if I need to. I don’t have a credit card.”
The girl glanced around nervously, as if someone would appear out of thin air and tell her whether or not that was okay. Then she looked at Cassie, and understanding lit her eyes—the wrong understanding. Vince flinched, hoping Cassie wouldn’t notice.
“Room seven.” She slid a key card across. “Have a nice…stay.”
He and Cassie exited the office and walked down the sidewalk, checking the numbers on the doors as they passed them.
“Too bad she didn’t ask for my name,” Cassie said. “Because then I could’ve told her it was Bambi and confirmed her assumption that I was a by-the-hour-type date.”
Vince stopped in front of their room and shot Cassie a smile. “Don’t worry, Bambi. I just wanna talk.”
And some pretty teasers!
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