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A Kiss To Kill

A Kiss To Kill
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the hero, Gregg van Halen

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A Kiss To Kill
Berkley Sensation
(book 3 of the Passion For Danger series)
ISBN-10: 0425233839
ISBN-13: 978-0425233832
April 2010

 
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Revenge…
Eight months ago, Dr. Gina Cappozi and CIA black ops commando Captain Gregg van Halen were lovers until Gregg committed the ultimate betrayal. Left in the hands of terrorists and to do the unspeakable or die, Gina vowed to kill the man she once loved.

Danger…
She knows that Gregg lives in the shadow world of violence and darkness. She knows that he’s watching her every move. What she doesn’t know is that Gregg isn’t the only one following her–or that he still cherishes her.

Sex…
When Gina’s burning need for revenge leads her back to the one place she can easily lure Gregg–his bed–she rediscovers another, more irresistible need. Now, with the threat of enemies at every turn, Gina and Gregg realize that the power of betrayal and revenge is nothing compared to the power of love.

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Read an Excerpt
From Chapter One


Manhattan
April, morning, present day

They were using her as bait.

Dr. Gina Cappozi could feel them following her. All day she’d had that peculiar sensation of eyes on her back, the spill of goosebumps on her flesh for no reason, a tingle in the hairs on her neck… obviously the STORM Corps special ops guys must be doing what they did best—-lurking in the shadows, watching her from doorways and alleys, scanning the busy Manhattan streets for danger. Always there for her. Always watching her back. Waiting patiently for their mutual enemy to appear. Or so it seemed, at least.

She wished they would just go away and leave her the hell alone.

Their constant presence was meant to be reassuring. It should be a comfort knowing they were there watching out for her. But it wasn’t. Because even though they’d once heroically saved her life, and were now supposedly protecting her, she also knew those spec ops guys had an agenda—-to get their hands on him, their hidden enemy, any way they could.

And she was their Judas goat.

Well, too bad. They’d have to wait their turn at the bastard. Because she wanted him even more than they did.

Him—-her nemesis. Captain Gregg van Halen.

Gina glanced around as she quickly took the steps down into the black maw of the Lexington Avenue subway tunnel. No familiar faces lingered in the crowd as the crush of mindless, workbound humanity carried her along in its wake. Would she be able to give her babysitters the slip this time?

Or maybe they’d tired of her game of hide and seek, and had already gone away and left her on her own. Maybe it was van Halen she could feel stalking her.

Good. Let the bastard come.

Just let him try and hurt her. She was ready. Her body was healed. And her mind…well, her mind was as healed as it was going to get. For now.

She was armed, of course. She never left her Upper East Side brownstone without her weapon of choice. Hell, even inside her home she was never without her knife. Nowhere was safe for her, indoors or out. Not as long as van Halen still drew breath.

She wrapped her fingers firmly around the handle of the razor-sharp Ka-Bar knife tucked in her coat pocket. Oh, yes. She’d been practicing, all right. Lunging and plunging it into the heart of a straw target, over and over, until little piles of cut straw lay scattered on the ground all around and its cloth covering was sliced to ribbons. Day after day, week after week. She’d decimated a hundred targets or more, much to the chagrin of her self-defense instructor.

She was confident now, no longer terrified of the mere thought of coming face to face with the man who’d haunted her nightmares for the past six months. The man who had sold her to terrorists and walked away without a backward glance.

Really, what could he do to her that she hadn’t already endured? He couldn’t hurt her. Not this time. Not her body. Not her heart. He wouldn’t take her by surprise again. He wouldn’t get the chance.

No one would. Not ever again.

Because Gina Cappozi was taking her life back.

And Gregg van Halen was going to die.

That was for damn sure. The very hand that had lovingly stroked his skin and caressed body to fevered arousal was going to be the same hand that ended his miserable life for good.

And if she was very, very lucky, it would happen today.

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