The USA Today
bestselling author of Outside the Lines once again explores love on the edge in
an explosive new romance about obsession, betrayal, and a killer attraction.
Lee Delgado never planned on falling in love with the
irresistible Oliver Savoca, son of a Chicago crime lord. Considering that their
families are rivals, she knew it could never work. And now that both their
fathers have been nabbed on racketeering charges, any real chance at a future
with the man she loves has been shot to hell. But a greater blow is yet to
come.
Not only does Lee learn that a contract is out on her life,
she has reason to believe that Oliver is behind the devastating betrayal. Now
she’s working closely—very closely—with Federal Agent Sean Callahan to help
bring her man down. But however she’s come to feel about Callahan, Lee is still
deeply, hopelessly, unabashedly in love with Oliver.
Where that fearless love takes Lee next is beyond her
control—but the risk is worth every beat of her heart.
B & N
EXCERPT
I
want Lee to know, no matter where she goes, I will find her.
At
the thought of her betrayal, rage rises up and wraps like an iron cloak around
my heart, threatening to crush any bit of humanity left there. I close my eyes
and hold my breath until it passes.
And
I see her as she was before everything that came after—that first day of
business law class at Kellogg, nearly two years ago.
She
was starting her first year. I was in my second. I was already seated near
Angela Bagglio, who I had a passing interest in due to her loose family ties to
the Delgado organization. Her brother was a wiseguy wannabe, little more than a
glorified gofer within the Delgado machine. But I’d discovered, sometimes it
was the smallest details that led to the largest victories.
When
Lee Delgado sashayed into the classroom, I’d like to say I was unaffected. I’d
like to believe I was in complete control of everything that happened then and
after.
But
I’d be kidding myself.
Her
bright hazel eyes surveyed the room, and when they caught for a second as they
passed over me, I felt a shift in gravity itself. There were times reading
nuances in expressions and actions was all that came between me and a slug in
my head. That hitch in her perusal of the room left no doubt she was aware who
I was.
From
that second on, I was helpless to take my eyes off her.
Her
sandy brown waves cascaded over the shoulders of her cream-colored silk blouse
to an open collar that hung loose, revealing a hint of cleavage. Her burgundy
pencil skirt hugged the round curves of her hips and ass and ended above the
knee, giving me a glimpse of a pair of toned thighs and calves. She had a
killer body and knew it. I had to respect a woman who knew her strengths and
wasn’t afraid to use them to her advantage.
She
took a seat in my row, but on the opposite side of the classroom. I was barely
coherent when the professor started lecturing. I couldn’t tell you the first
thing he said.
As
she listened, she lifted a hand and combed through her waves with her fingers,
separating out a strand and twirling it around her finger. A rush shuddered
from my tailbone up my spine to my brain, and even though I had no clue why,
that was the moment I knew I wasn’t going to be able to stay away.
The
rest, as they say, is history.
If
she thinks she can hide from me, she’s got another thing coming.
Mob
controlled gambling has always been a huge racket, with better payouts because
we don’t pay taxes like the legal betting sites. Back in the day, bookies were
involved and actual cash changed hands. Now nearly everything is electronic.
Bets are collected directly from our clients’ online accounts and payouts are
distributed back into them. Payout is calculated after each event based on
outcome versus the spread. It’s one of the parts of my job that I truly enjoy. I’m always in the program, tweaking
and modifying. But, suddenly, the week before Christmas, two days after Lee and
I returned from our weekend in Aspen, I noticed the spread didn’t factor
anymore and our payouts went through the roof. I thought maybe I’d screwed
something up and tried to get into the program to check it. Ended up throwing
my laptop against the wall when my pass code wouldn’t get me in.
It
took me the next two days, and the fact that Lee wasn’t answering my texts or
calls, to put together what had happened. Though I’m not sure exactly how she
managed it, I know it had to have been her who hacked into my program and
changed the payout ratios. I’ve looked at it from every angle and there are no
other feasible possibilities. And it makes sense. I had an ulterior motive when
we started hooking up, and I had no doubt she had one of her own. But as we got
deeper into each other, things shifted and I lost focus. I let down my guard
and gave her too much, and she took advantage of the opening.
I
knew I wouldn’t be seeing her over the holidays because her siblings were all
coming back to the family home in Wilmette, just outside of Chicago, for
Christmas. It took me another day to decide I had no choice but to go there.
But
when I got to the house, the place was swarming with cops and Feds, and yellow
police tape was strung across the pillars at the front door. The reports the
next day said it was believed the Delgados had fled to Europe after a “gangland
style attack” on their home.
The
online gambling leg of our business has been bleeding cash at the rate of
nearly a hundred grand a month since Lee fucked with the program. Every month
it gets worse as word spreads of our big payouts. The guy who designed and
encrypted the program is dead; a casualty of my father’s wrath when he made the
mistake of telling Victor he’d corrected a system glitch that had cost us a
couple hundred grand over the first year of implementation. I’ve done
everything I can to break Lee’s pass code, but considering the illegal nature
of the account, and the fact that I couldn’t enlist anyone who might report
back to Victor what happened, my resources to resolve the issue have been
severely limited.
So
I put my time and energy into another avenue. Finding Lee.
Like
everyone else in Chicago, I assumed that my father was responsible for the
contract on Lee and her family. I talked to his guys. Tried to see if any of
them had a bead on the Delgados’ location. I couldn’t find anyone who was even
looking.
So,
as much as I dreaded it, I went straight to the source.
I
was dead to my father. He’d made that clear. But that day, for the first time
since I’d crossed him, Victor looked at me with pride in his eyes when he
asked, “You purchase that special delivery for our friends up in Wilmette?”
And
that’s when I knew it wasn’t us. It’s also when I knew I was a dead man unless
I could find a way out of this mess on my own.
So
I looked harder for Lee, dug a little deeper into the Delgado family tree. I
didn’t find her, but I managed to stumble on some other useful information
during my search. And then, finally, the stroke of luck that led me here: Rob
showing up in Chicago.
I’ve
been able to keep everything under the rug since she left, but underground
betting has always been the Savoca business’s bread and butter. If Victor or
anyone else in the organization discovers the hemorrhage of cash that our
gambling ring has become, it’s my
head my loving pop will want on a spike.
I
told the guys I had some personal business in Vegas; gave Al a direct order to
park his ass at my apartment and not to move until I got back. I took a flight
to Vegas, and from there, traveled to Florida on an ID I pinched off of a guy
we rolled in Little Italy for not making book. He’s dead now, courtesy of Al,
so he won’t be divulging my alter ego to anyone.
My
family doesn’t know this particular alias. They’d have a hard time tracking me.
Once I find Lee, things should move pretty fast. But I have to find her first.
So
here I am.
Lisa Desrochers is the author of the USA Today bestselling A Little Too Far series and the YA Personal Demons trilogy. She lives in northern California with her husband, two very busy daughters, and Shini the tarantula. There is never a time that she can be found without a book in her hand, and she adores stories that take her to new places and then take her by surprise. Connect with her online at www.lisadwrites.com, on her blog at lisadesrochers.blogspot.com, on Twitter at @LisaDez, and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/LisaDesrochersAuthor.
