Due out May 5.29.2017
FBI Psychics Book 7
An untrained psychic, a marked man—all odds are against them.
Nyrene Goldman is having one hell of a bad week. First she finds out that her boyfriend isn’t just a two-timing bastard. He’s actually married, and she’s the other woman. Then she’s in a car wreck. The next day she wakes up with the headache to end all headaches…and she’s hearing voices and seeing visions. When those visions start to come true, she doesn’t know whether she’s going crazy or if the wreck rattled her brain.
A trip to the hospital puts her on a collision course with one seriously sexy cop. At the sight of him, everything in her screams DANGER!
Officer Bennett “Dev” Deverall is a man with a target on his back. One of the few good police officers in a nest of vipers, he’s doing his damnedest to put together a case to take out the dirty cops—before they get him. If there’s one thing he doesn’t need, it’s a damsel in distress, but while his armor might be a little tarnished these days, he’s never been one to walk away from somebody who needs him. The problem is, once he gets entangled with one Nyrene Goldman, his already screwed-up life gets even more complicated.
She knows things she shouldn’t know, tells him things nobody should know, and he can’t help but wonder if this gorgeous woman was put here to trip him up at the worst possible time.
But after a few too many close calls, he’s forced to admit there’s something weird going on with the pretty nurse. Something that can’t be explained.
The two of them wind up on a collision course with fate and now isn’t the time to doubt themselves, or each other. Not if they want to survive.
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Take off that damn shirt for starters, Dev thought sourly. Then his mind underwent a short circuit as he thought of her doing just that, peeling the black cotton away, revealing golden skin and a body that he was already too aware of.
She wasn’t wearing a bra, a fact he hadn’t been able to ignore when she opened the door, and now he also knew that her full breasts had tight, prominent nipples and he wanted to see how she’d react when he rolled them between his fingers, then toyed with them, using his tongue and teeth.
Not what you’re here for. Get your brain out of your dick. He lowered the towel and looked around. “Mind if I have a seat?”
“Feel free.”
He went to sit on the only chair and then stopped, sighing as the water continued to drip off. He had his own little rain puddle. “Maybe I should just stand,” he said, shaking his head.
“That’s not—”
“It’s fine.” Waving toward the couch, he said, “Feel free, though. I’ll try to keep this short.”
He instinctively turned toward the electric fireplace she had on. It was tucked against one wall, giving off a somewhat realistic impression of an actual flame, and the heat felt good, although it served to remind him of how miserably uncomfortable his uniform was.
There was a faint chiming sound and he glanced over just as she looked at her laptop. She caught her lip between her teeth and although she tried to be subtle, he noticed the way she looked at him, then away. And the way she casually closed her laptop. Just a little too casually.
“I only have a couple of questions,” he said, schooling his face into the polite, blank mask he’d perfected ages ago. “Actually, just one.”
“I don’t know if there’s much of anything else I can tell you about the accident,” she said softly. “I already called my insurance. My agent tells me the fault is clear. It will probably take a while to get it settled, but—”
“It’s not about the accident.” He moved over, eyed the wide, fat table and then decided, the hell with courtesy. He was looking over the edge into his grave anyway. Sitting down, he stared at her, eye to eye, wondering if she was yet another stumbling block they’d thrown at him, or if she was just another innocent bystander. He had to know—stumbling blocks could be dealt with. He was tired of innocent bystanders paying the price, though.
“Oh?” Her eyes widened ever so slightly and he couldn’t help but notice the darker striations of brown that splintered the golden color. She seemed all about golden warmth with those eyes and her skin.
Her hair, though, was black as night, straight as rain.
Deliberately, he clenched one hand into a fist.
Thinking about her hair, her eyes, her mouth, her ass—not going to help him learn what he needed to learn.
“The hospital,” he said.
And those golden eyes went blank.
“I’d like to know exactly what that display at the hospital was about, Ms. Goldman. Why were you so determined to keep me out of the parking garage?”
“I…” She said nothing else, just shook her head.
“Okay, then I do have a second question.” Leaning in until only a few scant inches separated them, he held her gaze for a long moment, listening as her breathing hitched, as her pupils spiked. “What does it have to do with the dead woman they found out there?”
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