Product Description

New York Times bestselling author Cindy Gerard's red-hot new romantic suspense series features the irresistible men of Black Ops, Inc., a special team of heroes with a taste for living on the edge....

A Dangerous Attraction...

Abbie Hughes no longer trusts men, but despite her cool indifference, her long legs and showgirl face still draw plenty of attention. Between working as a blackjack dealer, going to school, and keeping an eye on her younger brother, Cory, there's no time for romantic adventures -- until the night a sexy, mysterious stranger places a wager at her table.

Spurred by revenge...

Sam Lang left Black Ops, Inc. when tragedy struck his family. Although he's determined to retire his M-16 rifle to lead a quiet life on his ranch, a vengeful quest will send him on a manhunt for the ruthless multimillionaire who murdered his sister.

...Reveals a savage threat they can't ignore.

Though Sam suspects Abbie is in on a lucrative gem-smuggling deal her brother made with the enemy, their attraction is undeniable. Now Cory is missing, and together they search the wild Honduras backcountry to find him. With danger on their trail, they must trust each other completely or face certain death alone....

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #11472 in Books
• Published on: 2008-10-21
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Mass Market Paperback
• 384 pages

From Publishers Weekly
Bestseller Gerard follows October's Show No Mercy with another fast-paced tale of romance amid flying bullets. After wily smuggler Fredrick Nader kills investigator Sam Lang's sister, Sam swears to quit Black Ops Inc. Then he learns that Vegas blackjack dealer Abbie Hughes could lead him to Nader's hideaway in Honduras. Sam's plan to seduce information out of Abbie backfires: they fall in love, while Nader kidnaps Abbie's brother, Cory. She heads south with the Black Ops boys, determined to rescue Cory and deal with Nader once and for all. Readers will especially love Abbie: skeptical of Sam after their first disastrous interaction, insistent on participating in the mission, horrified by the criminal world of blood and violence, utterly devoted once she opens her heart. Gerard's polished prose and zippy plotting will continue to satisfy her many fans. (Nov.)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

Review
"Romantic suspense at its best." -- Kay Hooper, New York Times bestselling author

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

1

Las Rosas, Honduras

A gecko, low slung, forked feet flying, skittered across the sill of an open window, hauling ass as if it actually had somewhere to go.

Lucky little bastard.

Sam Lang watched him through world-weary eyes -- jealous of a damn lizard because at the moment, Sam had exactly nowhere to go. And nothing to do.

Nothing but sit here, slouched at a crude wooden table in a shadowed corner of a crumbling adobe cantina, like he'd sat here for the past three days. Nothing but amuse himself watching insect-eating egg-laying reptiles and wishing he were anywhere but Las Rosas, Honduras, on yet one more wild-goose chase.

No, he was not having fun yet.

While the action in the cantina was stagnant and slow, years of caution and force of habit had Sam sitting with his back to the wall. Thirst and boredom had his fingers wrapped around a lukewarm can of Polar. He wiped his cuff over the lip of the can, then tilted it to his mouth as the gecko shot away again.

Fast little sucker. Speed-of-sound fast compared to the rest of the populace in this dusty and rodent-infested hamlet where time crawled, stalled, and stopped dead in the noon heat of the Central American sun. The gecko obviously knew something Sam and the handful of patrons of this squalid, sweltering cantina didn't because, hell, even the flies didn't bother to buzz over pools of stale, spilled beer. Nope. Not a lot of action -- with the notable exception of the gecko and the X-rated show taking place in the middle of what could loosely be called a dance floor, where a man and a woman performed what could loosely be called a dance.

Sam had known better. He should have dragged his partner, Johnny Duane Reed, out of this dive three hours ago when they'd officially decided their guy wasn't going to show. So far, the "tip" that they might get the goods on Fredrick Nader hadn't panned out. With each tick of a very slow-moving clock, it became more apparent that they'd run up against one more dead end.

Big surprise. Sam had been tracking the elusive German for months. He'd set trap after trap, harassed the hell out of Nader, whose "legitimate" international enterprises were merely fronts for every type of terrorist activity known to man. Drugs, weapons, bioterrorism -- you name it, Nader was in it ass deep. Yet his blueblooded lineage and the bottomless cache of payola that came with it kept every international agency off his back.

That's where Sam and Black Ops, Inc. came in. Nader was an off-the-books operation. Sam had finally found the man's Achilles' heel. The pompous bastard had a penchant for sparkly things -- Nader craved stolen gems -- which Sam was counting on to be Nader's downfall.

Last week in El Salvador, Nader had gotten a little sloppy and Sam had come within minutes of nailing him -- only to lose him one more time. Just like this last attempt had turned out to be one more lost cause.

"We've been here for three frickin' days," Reed complained earlier when Sam had decided to give up the ghost and get the hell out of Dodge. "Another hour or two isn't going to change the course of the world. Besides, we deserve some R and R."

Deserve, in this case, was Johnny Duane Reed-speak for "I've been eating dust and drinking mud-thick coffee for three days and I'm ready for a beer -- or ten."

Three hours ago, Sam had been hard-pressed to argue with Reed's stand, but that had been three long hours ago. Now he realized the error in that line of thinking. He glanced toward the dance floor again. Shook his head. Reed was a pretty boy, but Sam knew from experience that there was strength in those broad shoulders, speed in those lean legs. He'd relied on the former marine despite his smart mouth, Rambo strut, and weakness for the ladies in more than one dicey situation. The kid had never let him down and he delivered few surprises. That's why it came as no shock that nothing good would come out of a situation when Johnny Duane Reed had time on his hands and a yen for alcohol and a woman.

A scratchy merengue played from a dusty jukebox as Sam watched Reed through dim light and a haze of sweet-smelling smoke. Both the smoke and the scent hung in the air like fog. No one mistook the scent for anything but what it was: prime Colombian weed. Just as no one mistook the woman with the swaying hips, barely haltered breasts, and sex-and-whiskey laugh for anything but what she was: a past-her-prime Honduras whore.

No one but Reed, who'd been without the company of a woman way longer than the cowboy liked. Give a fisherman a hook and he'll catch dinner. Give Reed a beer and he'll catch a hooker.

Kee-rist.

Reed was in lust. He was also bolo -- drunk off his ass. It made for a perfect combination. Or a perfect storm.

If Sam didn't break the lip-lock the hooker had planted on the tall blond cowboy, whose hands were now kneading the hell out of her ass, dawn would find Reed rolled, robbed, and in need of a good delousing.

He heaved a weary breath, then couldn't help but grin at the cowboy's sloppy attempt at a salsa move. Sam tried to remember the exact point in time when he'd been appointed Reed's keeper. Somalia? Beirut? Sierra Leone? Hell. Could have been any one of a hundred third world hellholes. Years ago, as team memberson Uncle's top secret Task Force Mercy, they'd saved each other's lives more times than Sam could count. More times than he wanted to.

Lot of years ago when they'd been lean and green and full of God and country. Hoo-rah!

Years ago, when they'd been soldiers.

He drew deep on his beer. At least Sam had been a soldier. He'd been Delta Force, U.S. Army. Reed was Marine, Force Recon and in or out of uniform, he'd be a marine -- not a soldier, he was quick to point out -- until the day he died.

Sam squinted through the smoke. They'd all paid a price through the years. Which was why, from time to time, they needed to let off a little steam. Case in point was stumbling around on the dance floor, probably not as drunk as he wanted everyone to think he was.

"You want to party, too, gringo? Maybe a private dance? Vaya pues? Okay?"

A pouty brunette had sidled up next to Sam and wrapped herself around him like a faded ribbon on a Maypole. Once upon a time he might have taken the ladina woman up on her offer. Once upon a time when she'd been young and pretty and he'd been young and stupid. A time when better judgment and discerning taste had been no match for randy youth, raging hormones, and the superior intellect that could be found in a bottle of tequila. Before control had become the name of Sam's game and the mantra that he lived by.

Sam wanted to ignore her, but his mother had taught him better manners. "Not tonight, darlin'."

While he'd thought he'd been gentle, he could see by the look in her eyes and the way she'd skittered away that he'd done it again. Scared the shit out of her with one hard look. Apparently it was the same look that Reed was always telling him was more intimidating than an M-16.

Whatever.

He headed for Reed. The cowboy may have tipped a few but that didn't negate the fact that Reed was still six lean feet of solid muscle and sinew. Thirty-plus years of stubborn warrior blood pumped through his veins. And he was horny.

This wasn't going to be fun.

And it wasn't going to be pretty.

But it was going to get done.

Sam tapped Reed on the shoulder. "Yo. God's gift. Time to roll."

"Fuck off."

Reed's response was typical and expected. It was also remarkably articulate given the fact that his tongue was buried halfway down his lady love's throat. "Get your own woman, Sammy. This one's mine."

"I said, let's go." Sam stood, hands on hips, waiting for it to seep into Reed's alcohol-soaked brain that he'd just been issued an order.

"Aw, come on," Reed actually whined when Sam didn't buckle.

Lolita, or Rosalita, or whatever the hell her name was, spewed a string of Spanish curses in Sam's direction when she realized her customer was slipping away.

"Yeah. Things are tough all over," he agreed and pried her arms from around Reed's neck.

"But our guy didn't show," Reed pointed out, hopeful it would buy him a little more time.

"It's not happening. Let's go."

As sure as two plus two equaled four, Reed drunk plus horny equaled belligerent. Lang had no expectations that either his math or his take on Reed were anything but dead-on right.

The cowboy didn't disappoint. "Fifteen minutes. That's all I need."

"No."

As only a drunk can, Reed squared off in front of Sam, bleary eyes narrowed. "You ain't the boss of me."

Sam couldn't help it. He grinned. "That's the best you can do?"

Reed sniffed. Cocked his chin. Shot for a glare. "I don't want to have to drop you, Sam."

This time Sam actually laughed. It was as much bluff as amusement because even drunk, Reed was one of the toughest, meanest, dirtiest fighters Sam had ever seen in action.

Sam pulled the older, meaner, wiser, bigger card out of the deck. "Yeah, that's gonna hap -- "

He never finished his sentence.

A car roared to a screeching stop outside the cantina and grabbed his full attention, jarring him straight to red alert.

He was already diving for the dirt floor, dragging Reed down with him when the swinging cantina doors burst open to a hail of AK-47 fire. Together they rolled, overturning tables as they went, scrambling to reach their go bags, where Sam had stashed an H&K MP-5K and Reed had packed a mini Uzi.

Wasn't gonna happen. The gunmen's fire steered them in the opposite direction, where they finally found cover behind a thick wooden support post and a half-baked adobe wall near the bar. They bellied down on the floor behind it as the deafening burst of automatic-weapon fire sprayed through the cantina. The women screamed and everyone ducked out of the line of fire.

Beside him, Reed was all business now as he unholstered his gun. "What the fuck!"

Nothing like an AK to snap a man out of a drunken stupor.

Sam peered around the wall for a quick look-see, then ducked back behind it when another round of fire sla...

Customer Reviews

Excellent romantic suspense
Sam Lang, ex-Delta Force sniper, is on a mission to find the man responsible for the death of his sister and her husband. When Cory Hughes's name repeatedly comes up as a mole for the deadly Frederick Nader, Sam goes after Cory's sister, Abbie, for information. Sam and Abbie hit it off immediately, making it that much more painful for Abbie to know that she has been used by Sam for information. Abbie claims to know nothing about Cory's involvement with Nader, but admits that she is extremely concerned for him. It doesn't take long for Sam to realize that Abbie is much stronger than she looks and when she insists on being part of the search for Cory in Honduras, the danger level rises significantly.
Abbie should have known from the get-go that Sam Lang was too good to be true. Good looks, subtle charm and gentle hands - how could she resist? When she discovers that his interest in her was feigned in the search for her brother, she is crushed. That is, until she got mad. When she joins forces with Sam in the search for Cory, she's introduced to a way of life that she never even knew existed, and has no choice but to put her life in Sam's capable hands.
The quality of romantic suspense by Cindy Gerard can be matched by few. Abbie and Sam are both damaged and so desperately in need of each other's love. The suspense is intense, as is the romance. Sam is out for vengeance, but doesn't let it blind him against how perfect a future with Abbie could be. I highly recommend this book to all who love the excitement and intrigue of well-written romantic suspense.

more military fabulosity from Cindy!
I'm a hard core Cindy G fan... and this book did not disappoint. As I write this all other reviews of this book are 4 and 5 stars- I'm not surprised at all! The BOI's of the black ops series are rock stars of secret missions and falling hard in love! :)

Love, action, bullets flying, international travel, kidnapping, a love story that had plenty of rough patches, a smart and cool heroine, troubled hottie hero... yeah. It kept my eyes reading fast as possible and I didn't put it down until I finished!

What I really love about this series (besides everything I mention above) is that they tie together (characters popping in) but the adventures are distinctly separate and can be enjoyed as single title if desired.

Sexy!!
Wow!! Take charge, built men with a soft spot for the one woman in their life. Lots of action, both military like and bedroom like. The women are strong and opinionated but love their men!! If you like Lora Leigh's seal books, this one is right up your alley.