Where Love Grows
Craig Andrews was moving in for the kill.He’d trapped Becca Reynolds as neatly as any hound would trap a rabbit.
She swallowed hard, her mouth dry. To reach for the tumbler of water in front of her would be a sign of weakness, wouldn’t it?
Yes. Better to have a mouth that felt as if a sandblaster had let loose in it than to have her actions prove it.
“Miss Reynolds…”
Andrews pivoted on his Testoni dress shoes and held up a single sheet of paper. The corners of his mouth lifted, but the expression bore about as much resemblance to a smile as a shark’s chompers did.
“You based your conclusions on weather patterns and the very scientific NASA photographs.”
“Yes. Yes, I did. It is my—”
But before Becca could explain how she knew the hailstorm had been nothing but cocktail ice and a few migrant workers ... read full excerpt from Where Love Grows ebook
