Marriage At The Millionaire's Command
The scent of her grandmother's perfume was the first sign. The prickle at her nape was the second. While Gran's scent was benign and loving and familiar, the second sign sent a shiver down her spine.Carissa Grace never ignored signs.
Anxious, she scanned the stream of cars outside Sydney's Cove Hotel. Her stepsister Melanie had insisted on picking her up since Carissa's gig at the piano bar had finished after midnight tonight. That had been twenty minutes ago.
Hurry up, Mel. Something's—
The screech of brakes sheared through the balmy night, an agony of metal on metal over the mellow sound of sax drifting from a nearby nightclub. As the dented Holden mounted the kerb, its headlights loomed like silver lasers before her, terrify-ingly stark against the subtle orange glow of the city night.
For a stunned second Carissa couldn't move. She was one wit ... read full excerpt from Marriage at the Millionaire's Command ebook
