Playing With Fire

A hot romantic suspense

One hot summer Cassie Fitzgerald gave her virginity and her heart to Griffin Hunter. When he married her sister, Diane, she fled Stoneham and for six years nothing could make her return. Not her sister’s murder, for which Griffin was and continues to be the only suspect. Not her father’s suicide, which the police chief wants to sweep under the rug.

But now her mother is dead and she’s back home in Stoneham, Texas, assaulted by memories and battling resentment along with sadness. She has legal obligations she can’t avoid, responsibilities she wants to take care of and get the hell out of the place she ran from so long ago. And then there is Griff, the man whose hold on her heart has never slackened or eased. She wants to hold her hatred for him close to her but he ants to hold her body close to his. Despite everything that happened he wants her more than ever and makes no bones about it.

And damn it, she finds herself just as susceptible.

Together they begin to unravel the mysteries surrounding her sister’s murder and Griff’s implication in it. With each layer they peel back more secrets are revealed. As they work side by side will she be able to control her own hot need for this man or will she be pulled back into the same sensual vortex? Can she uncover the secret Stoneham’s hiding, the riddle of Diane’s murder and the answer to her relationship with Griff without destroying herself in the process?

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Her breath was frozen in her chest. Swallowing hard, she made her feet move, one in front of the other, doing her best to ignore him, her eyes still drawn to him.  This was a different Griff from the daredevil who lived in her darkest dreams. He was not only older but harder, less yielding. His hair was still sun bleached and too long, his body fuller but still tanned and muscular. Aviator sunglasses hid the remembered blue of his eyes, but his mouth that had pressed such passionate kisses on every part of her body was set in an expression of bitterness. There was something almost lethal about him now. If she hadn’t known him so well, she might have been afraid of him.

And something else defined his posture. Anger? Sadness? She didn’t want to know. She especially didn’t want to feel the quickening of her heartbeat, the tightening of her breasts, the instant hardening of her nipples and the primal beat that began throbbing between her legs. The heat had burned her once—scorched her—and she wasn’t about to play with fire again.

But her brain apparently had taken a vacation, along with her ability to make a sensible decision and stick to it. All these years, all that pain and it took only seconds for her body to leap to life in the once familiar response.

She detoured to the trunk of the rental car, her keys in her hand that trembled despite her best efforts.

Griff reached out one arm and pressed down against the lid of the trunk so she couldn’t open it. “I heard you were in town. I came to see for myself.”

“Please let me open my trunk.” She tried to make her voice as flat as his.

“We have things to talk about, Cassie.”

“You’re wrong. We have nothing to say to each other.”

“Oh but we do.” He moved until he was standing right next to her, crowding her space. “We have a lot to say. We have unfinished business between us.”