The heat never lets up as dangerous desires are rekindled in this sizzling tale of love, betrayal, and murder.
Never look back. Those are words Curt Brennermen lives by. He went from riches to rags, and now he’s back on top as the owner of one of the world’s fastest-growing oil conglomerates. But success comes at a steep price. Back home on East Texas soil, he’s face-to-face with unfinished business. Curt’s just been hit with a murder charge . . . and the only one who can help him clear his name is the girl who got away.
Lyn Tyrell will never forgive Curt for walking out on her. But the hell-raising cowboy who taught her the meaning of the word passion needs her in the worst way. Someone killed a man in cold blood and set Curt up to take the fall. At least, that’s what he is claiming. Lyn can’t believe the man she once loved is a murderer, but trusting him with her heart again is something else—unless Curt can show her he’s finally ready for a second chance.
Includes an excerpt from another Loveswept title.
Release date:
August 12, 2013
Publisher:
Loveswept
Print pages:
256
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“We’ll be arriving at the Dallas–Fort Worth airport in twenty minutes, Mr. Brennermen.”
Curt glanced from his notebook computer at the pretty flight attendant, noting the none-too-subtle invitation in her eyes. Sorry, darlin’, he thought. This trip is strictly business. “Thanks for the warning,” he drawled, giving her a smile that could break a woman’s heart at fifty paces. “I’ve got a lot of work to do before we land.”
Disappointed, the attendant headed back toward the galley of the first-class compartment. Curt resumed his work, but was interrupted again by the sharp jab of an elbow in his side.
“What’sa matter with you? She’s built.”
“Not interested, Benny,” Curt answered, without looking up.
“Figures,” grumbled his companion.
Curt gave a sidelong glance at the man beside him. Benny Fortuna was a massive man with a face that could stop a clock, but he had a heart as soft as butter. They’d met over five years ago, in a barroom brawl in the toughest, seediest, most dangerous dive in the jungles of South America. Curt had been jumped by several hired thugs, paid by a competitor who wanted to put an end to Brennermen’s nearby oil-drilling operation. Benny had stepped in to even up the odds.
Curt had hired him on the spot as his bodyguard, a position he still held, though the fortunes of both men had drastically changed. Curt trusted the man with his life. But not, necessarily, with his private thoughts.
“This is a business trip, Benny. We’ve got a busy Thursday ahead of us. After we land I’m meeting with Halliburton about the pressure drilling equipment for the Siberian fields. Then it’s lunch with Parker at Exxon, drinks with the state energy chairwoman, and finally the product launch at that security company we just bought.”
“The Guardian gala,” Benny said morosely. “Do we really have to show up at that? I know this great bar.…”
Curt’s stern mouth pulled into a reluctant smile. Benny knew the “great bars” in every major city in the world. It was one of the many reasons that made him invaluable to a boss who’d spent most of the last two years of his life living out of a suitcase. “Business first.”
“Yeah, but not business only,” the big man argued. “Face it, boss. You’ve been pushing yourself for months without a break. It’s not natural. A man’s gotta have a little R and R, if you know what I mean.”
Jewish mothers and chicken soup. Benny and sex. Both thought they were a magic cure for everything. There was a time when Curt might have agreed with him, but lately the thought of transitory relations had lost its attraction. Too often he’d woken up and looked into his partner’s face, hoping against all reason to see a pair of cornflower-blue eyes.
Never look back.
Curt ran his fingers through the shaggy, light-colored hair he refused to cut to corporate standards, even though he owned one of the fastest-growing oil conglomerates in the world. In twenty-eight years he’d gone from riches to rags and back to riches again. Business magazines trumpeted his financial wizardry, but Curt knew his success was due to pure dumb luck. He’d spent five years rotting in a practically worthless wildcat oil operation, working his tail off to pay back a debt that was not of his making. If the wells hadn’t come in two years ago, he’d still be there, along with the flies, filth, poverty, and political corruption.
The rocky ride had left scars on his body and soul, but he had only one regret. She’s probably married by now, with a couple of kids … he thought.
“Boss? Are you okay?”
Benny’s concerned tone brought him back to the present. Damn, it wasn’t like him to drift off like that. Maybe he did need a little of Benny’s R&R. “Tell you what. We’ll make an appearance at the Guardian party, then slip out and do the town.”
Benny’s face lit up. “Now you’re talking: I know this great place on the south side called the Blue Note, where …”
Curt smiled at his bodyguard’s enthusiasm, but he didn’t share it. One bar was as good as another—even the cities he’d seen in his international travels had begun to look the same. He had power, respect, and more wealth than he could spend in a dozen lifetimes. But that success hadn’t come without a price. He’d had to sacrifice a few things along the way. Like his dreams. Like his belief in honesty, truth and justice, and all the other fairy tales he’d grown up with. Like the trust of an all-too-trusting girl with cornflower-blue eyes.
Nodding to Benny, he turned back to his spreadsheet, taking what solace he could in the vast fortune that had managed to buy him everything but love.
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