Prescription: Makeover [Secure eReader]
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eBook by Jessica Andersen
eBook Category: Mystery/Crime
eBook Description: Ike Rombout had to be in control--of her job, her life and especially her men. And with her intimidating look, including short, dark hair and a preference for tight black clothes, most men stayed away. Except former FBI agent William Caine--he walked where most men wouldn't. While working at Boston General, Ike found herself in the crosshairs of some very powerful men. And when a bullet meant for Ike kills someone she loves, William Caine discovered the perfect solution for a common enemy. A clean-cut military man had the job of transforming a rebel with a cause into his best-kept secret. Primped in flower prints and pastels, no one in the workaday world would believe this soft, innocent woman dreamed of revenge. But when William's caution turned into concern, Ike wondered if he wanted the striking beauty in front of him, or the real woman inside....
eBook Publisher: Harlequin/Intrigue
Fictionwise Release Date: April 2007
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"I've never met anyone like you before." Zed Brimley's dark eyes glinted as he toyed with the three glittering studs that marched their way up the curve of Ike Rombout's ear. "You're… different from other women. Independent. Undemanding."
"Clever man. Flattery will get you exactly where you want to be." Ike nestled closer to Zed, who was a third-year resident at Boston General Hospital and her current weekend bed buddy. The movement caused the ascending ski lift to sway beneath them.
She pulled her ski cap down over her ears, which were bared by her pixie-short black hair, and looked across ski slopes that shined white beneath a perfect Vermont winter sky.
Let's hear it for separating personal stuff from professional garbage, she thought as she took a deep breath of crisp air and felt the solid press of Zed's body against hers.
Professionally, she was skirting the edge of some serious trouble. Personally, she was exactly where she wanted to be—taking a long weekend with a handsome, charming guy.
Zed grinned down at her. "Want to hit the lodge after this run? I could use a little something to warm me up." A suggestive tilt of his eyebrows said he wasn't talking about coffee. "First one down gets to choose the position?"
"I vote for the Jacuzzi," Ike said, mentally rolling her eyes. Most guys loved that she'd rather be on top during sex. They didn't question it, didn't make her admit that she couldn't stand the sensation of being trapped. But Zed was one of the ones who automatically wanted what he couldn't have.
It was the only glitch in an otherwise perfect casual relationship.
"Sounds like a plan." When the lift reached the top of the slope, he dropped onto the groomed snow and skied toward a marked trail, calling over his shoulder, "See you at the bottom. Last one down is buying dinner!"
Ike grinned, hopped off the lift and followed with a smooth stroke of her glossy black skis. Now that was her kind of challenge. "Then you'd better start warming up your credit card," she shouted, "'cause here I come!"
Zed laughed and called a masculine taunt that was lost in a chilly burst of crosswind. Clad in a formfitting black jacket and thermal pants, he cut a powerful figure as he dodged a middle-aged woman snowplowing her way toward an easier run and shot down the double-black-diamond trail.
Excitement kindled in Ike's blood—the love of the outdoors, the thrill of speed and danger. She whooped and followed, hurtling along the top element of the run, a stomach-pitching drop that kicked her from zero to flying in the space of a few heartbeats.
She angled her skis straight down the mountain and felt the strain in her leg muscles, a warning that she was getting soft. But now that things were quieter with both her freelance investigative work and her "real" job as communications director at Boston General, she should be able to get back to the important stuff, like working out. Like acting out.
No way was she letting herself settle too deeply into a rut. Routines were for boring nine-to-fivers. She was all about spontaneity and living on the edge.
Because of it, she let out a yell as she angled between two lines of snow-frosted pine trees and whipped around a corner. There! Zed's strong figure sluiced a neat zigzag path up ahead, teasing her. Taunting her.
Ike threw back her head and felt laughter bubble up. "Ready or not, here I come!" She accelerated into the next curve, zeroing in on her lover's broad back as he disappeared around the bend.
She heard a sharp crack and thought for a second that one of the nearby trees had lost a branch. Then she rounded the turn and saw a body sprawled on the trail. Her heart froze in her chest and she screamed, "Zed!"
Going too fast to stop, she tried to turn but hit a patch of ice beneath the loose powder. She cried out and slid sideways, losing control.
Her skis hooked Zed's motionless form with a sickening jolt. Momentum carried her up and over, and the world exploded in a pinwheel of sky and snow and trees. She flipped twice, slammed to the ground and skidded downhill.
She heard another crack. Recognizing gunfire, she grabbed for the weapon she often carried at the small of her back while freelancing. But the .22 wasn't there. She was on vacation, damn it!
The Nine don't care, a small voice said inside her. They'll get you wherever they find you. Max Vasek warned you, but you didn't believe him.
Ike's heart pounded, the rapid thud nearly drowning out all other sounds as she tried to scramble to her feet. This wasn't happening, couldn't be happening.Please God, let this be a nightmare.
But she knew it wasn't a dream the moment another skier flew around the corner, saw Zed's motionless body and wiped out with a startled yell. A second skier appeared, then a third. She heard their shouts, saw them gesture wildly at Zed, then farther down the slope to where she lay.
One skied toward her, a tall, broad-shouldered man who looked to be in his early forties. He was dressed entirely in gray, and his eyes were shielded behind tinted goggles. He crouched beside her. "Lie still. The ski patrol is on its way."
"Help me get these things off." Ike yanked at her skis, cursing the bindings she habitually overtightened to get maximum speed on the slopes. "I work at a hospital. I can help him."
"You're hurt. You should—"
"Shut up and help me!" she snapped, and when her would-be rescuer tried to press her down flat, she fought him off, dragged herself to her feet and limped upslope.
Copyright © 2007 by Dr. Jessica S. Andersen.