by Patricia Rosemoor
Fans of Linda Howard will love Dangerous, the story of a driven female cop who teams up with an irresistible ex-con to bring a killer to justice—and discovers that breaking the rules is hotter on the wrong side of the law.
After serving time for a trumped-up charge, private investigator Drago Nance doesn’t trust cops. Nothing will change that, not even the steamy weekend with Camille that burned itself into his memory. But with an innocent girl’s life at stake, Drago can’t ignore the need in Camille’s eyes, or the heated promise in her touch. He agrees to help—if she’s willing to play by his rules. He just never suspected that seducing his partner could be just as thrilling as chasing a madman.
Frustration filled Camille Martell when she checked the list of people logged into the “come and get some” chat room, her nickname for the Chicago area dating site Meet ’n’ Greet, where she’d found Angel. The scum wasn’t there now. Obsessed with stopping the sexual predator who’d murdered at least two young women he’d seduced via the Internet, she’d been spending every waking hour away from the job hunting him on her home computer.
“Damn it! C’mon, you bastard, where are you? Show yourself!”
As if her demand zapped him through the ether, his avatar—a dark angel holding a sword—appeared.
“Yes!” Her adrenaline surged, and she quickly logged in as Morrigan, the old college photo identifying her as a twenty-one-year-old redhead. Exactly Angel’s type. He didn’t have a clue she was a cop.
Max nudged her leg and whistled through his nose.
Patting the dog’s big, scruffy body, she absently murmured, “Good boy,” as she tensed watching the parade of messages scroll up her screen.
BigMan: anyone wanna talk with me will show photo
Cougar: let’s see your photo first—not your face, BIG man!
hotgirl: camshows $10/10 minutes skype hotgirl69
Camille’s gaze flicked to the column of sign-ins. Angel was there but not interacting. She’d engaged him twice in the last two days. He’d been flirting carefully with her, like he had been testing her. He knew she was here. What was he waiting for?
She took a big breath. “C’mon, c’mon!”
Unable to wait for it, she took the lead.
Morrigan: Hey, Angel.
Angel: how’s it playing?
Morrigan: Bored ’n’ lonely
Morrigan: You can fix
Would he take the bait? Say he wanted to meet? Her pulse fluttered through her as she waited for his reply.
Cougar: woo-wee, angel, she’s comin’ on to ya
Angel: r u, M? what you wanna do with me?
She’d like to do all kinds of nasty things to a lowlife like him, but she’d settle for cuffing him and bringing him in. She thought about saying something sexual, but instinct told her to play it cool.
Morrigan: Just wanna talk . . . to start . . .
BigMan: let’s you ’n’ me talk, honey—skype name?
Morrigan: With Angel only! IM Morrigan22
Camille held her breath as she waited to see if Angel would use it.
Angel: gotta go ttyl
An instant message popped up on her screen, but it was from the guy who called himself BigMan. Camille ignored it. Her hands curled into fists, she sat staring at the monitor, willing Angel to IM her. If he got the mental message, he was ignoring it. Had she played it too cool? Should she have lured him in with the promise of something more than talk?
Another failed attempt. Her adrenaline crashed, deflating her once more.
She wanted to punch something.
Max was still sitting there, staring at her, and she realized she hadn’t fed him. Thankfully, she’d hired Sandy Kawecki, the teenage girl who lived next door, to walk Max after school, so he didn’t need to go out right away. She hadn’t meant to have a dog with her busy schedule, but the bruiser had been a pitiful sight on the street barking in terror at anything that went by. That had been barely a month ago. She’d tried to find his owner, and when that had proved impossible, then she’d thought she could find him a good home. He’d found hers instead.
For the last few weeks after getting home from work, she’d gone directly to the computer, since she’d been unable to conduct her search at the office. Each time she wished Angel would IM, but wishing wasn’t going to make it happen, so she pushed away from her desk and headed for the kitchen, the dog following close on her heels.
His big brown eyes hopeful, Max whined and licked his chops.
Patting his side, she fetched a can and opened it while considering the irony of her being taken off the Chat Room Predator Case—the reason they gave her was she was “too emotionally focused” on it, and letting other cases slide. But that focus was what had connected her with the presumed killer, though she still hadn’t gotten him to go beyond chatting.
It might take some time, but she would find a way to meet him and arrest him and get him to trial, if it was the last thing she ever did.
With 90 novels and more than seven million books in print, Patricia Rosemoor is fascinated with "dangerous love" – combining romance with danger. She has written various forms of romantic and paranormal romantic thrillers, even romantic horror, bringing a different mix of thrills and chills to her stories.
Patricia has won a Golden Heart from Romance Writers of America and two Reviewers Choice and two Career Achievement Awards from RT BOOKreviews, and in her other life, she teaches Popular Fiction and Suspense-Thriller Writing, credit courses at Columbia College Chicago. Three of her Columbia grad students and two students from other venues are now published in novel-length fiction.
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