Fast and Flirty
Mouse over the cover to see the hero,
Fast and Flirty
Cajun Hot Press
The top-secret package that STORM Corps transporter Kade Maddox is hired to deliver turns out to be way more trouble—and a whole lot sexier—than he ever anticipated.
Nikki Phoenix is a die-hard rule-breaker and unabashed free spirit. So when her latest assignment for Interpol pits her against ex-Marine transporter Kade Maddox—who’s about as flexible as a 357 Magnum—sparks fly like fireworks. But somewhere along the twisty road along the Italian Amalfi Coast being chased by bad guys, Nikki decides hard can be very nice…and Kade learns the unexpected pleasures of surrendering to the moment.
This short-length contemporary romance STORM Corps Transporter novella has a sexy romance, fast-paced romantic adventure, charming humorous romance, emotional romance, interenational intrigue, and a dash of romantic suspense. Perfect beach read deal for your Kindle!
The West Coast Of Italy
Nikki Phoenix gave her tight sweater and miniskirt a quick zhuzh and leaned under the open hood of her BMW, bending over to give her quarry a good view of her backside and her long, bare legs. After a second she reached in and loosened the alternator cable. Just in case.
The meticulous research she’d done after getting this assignment had revealed that STORM Corps transporter Kade Maddox followed a firm set of self-imposed rules when he drove. He never broke them. Never. And one of his top rules was: No passengers.
Yeah, they’d just see about that.
She stayed bent over and curled one designer high heel around the opposite ankle, doing her best to look cute and helpless as he took the nearest curve and sped toward the cutout where she’d parked the Beemer.
“Come on, baby. You don’t need no stinkin’ rules,” she murmured to the engine block, deliberately not looking up. Any former Marine intelligence operator worth his salt would smell a setup a mile away.
She smiled at the air filter as her target slowed. “Oh, yeah. Who’s your mama,” she whispered, satisfaction swirling through her. Hell, she might actually pull this off. She wiggled her butt. Just a little.
From the corner of her eye she watched him approach. His highly-polished black and red convertible shone in the bright Italian sunshine, sleek and elegant against the sparkling azure blue of the sea beyond the twisty ribbon of road that clung to the rocky cliffs. The top was down, and she could clearly see it was Maddox behind the wheel, wearing his usual STORM transporter uniform—a meticulously tailored charcoal grey suit over a white button-down and tie. His attractive dark hair was just long enough to be tousled by the wind, making him look deceptively casual and easygoing.
She knew better. From what she’d learned, the man was as focused as a laser.
He slowed to a crawl. She held her breath and pretended not to notice as he studied her through his mirrored sunglasses. Then the engine gunned and the car sped away without stopping.
She straightened up and stared after him with a puff of frustration, hands on her hips. Well, hell.
Okay, yeah, she’d suspected it wouldn’t be that easy. In fact, she might have been suspicious if it had been. STORM operators weren’t the only ones concerned with falling into traps. But for some strange reason, she’d been looking forward to sharing a ride with the somewhat legendary—and surprisingly handsome—Kade Maddox. Why? She had no idea. By all accounts the man was her polar opposite—stiff, stolid, predictable. A rule-follower to the nth degree. Nothing like her.
Maybe it was the fascination of opposites?
Or maybe she was just horny. The man was a looker, and he had a killer body, too, if the photos of him she’d managed to find online were anywhere near reality. And it had been a good, long while since she’d allowed herself the indulgence of a fling.
Not that he would indulge, she had a feeling. Rule number 7, no doubt: No monkey sex with strangers.
Whatever. She wasn’t interested in him, anyway, other than as a means to complete her assignment. A freelance investigator specializing in art theft, Nikki had been hired to acquire the package he was transporting, and turn it over to Interpol. Preferably without breaking any laws.
Yeah, yeah. Sometimes a girl had to do what a girl had to do.
Which was probably why they’d come to her, as opposed to any of the other investigators on the Interpol roster. Nikki Phoenix had been breaking rules since well before being unceremoniously tossed out of her diplomat father’s house at seventeen, and she had no intention of stopping anytime soon.
So, caveat Maddox.
With an extra spurt of anticipation spinning through her, she reconnected the alternator and slammed her car’s hood closed, climbed into the Beemer, and fired the engine to life.
Time to capture the eye of a STORM.
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