Hot on Her Heels
It had taken four months, calling in every favor ever owed her, a case of expensive Scotch and a date with a slimy private investigator who had made the mistake of thinking "date" meant "sex." A knee to the groin had cured him of that belief. In the end, Dana Birch had gotten her man.
Now, as she rode the elevator up to Garth Duncan's penthouse condo, she smiled at the paperwork in her hand. Paperwork that demanded he come talk to the good people at the Dallas Police Department. Paperwork that said Garth was going to have a very bad day. She, on the other hand, couldn't be happier.
"Rat bastard, weasel dog," she murmured as she stepped off the elevator and headed to his front door. "You thought you were so smart. You thought you could do whatever you wanted and get away with it. You thought you could hurt my friends."
If life were perfect, he would resist accompanying her and she could threaten him with her gun. Maybe even accidentally shoot him. If only he were the type of guy to cower in the face of authority, not to mention consequences. In her fantasies, he would tremble and beg. While it wasn't as good as watching him bleed, it wo ... read full excerpt from: Hot on Her Heels ebook
