Grave Risk
Fingers marched across Jill Cooper's cheekbones like the legs of a stalking tarantula. She stiffened, eyes shut tight.
She wanted to retreat from the intrusion or jump up from this table and escape. What horrors lay behind the other doors? What had she allowed herself to be talked into? Moral support was one thing, but this--
"Too rough?"
Jill opened her eyes and looked into the upside-down face of twenty-two-year-old Sheena Marshall. "No."
Sheena had an uncommonly bright, perky grin that matched her bright, perky voice. All the employees of this spa seemed to be infected with terminal optimism, except for Sheena's mother, Mary Marshall, who had always been on the opposite end of that spectrum, even when Jill had graduated from high school with her twenty-seven years ago.
Today, Mary's daughter was actually perkier than usual. "It's fine." Jill wanted to ask when the sheets had last been washed on this massage table, but the question could eventually reach the ears of the owner of this establishment.
Jill was here to provide the owner--her baby sister--moral support for this venture, not to irritate her. Noelle Trask ran a tight shi ... read full excerpt from: Grave Risk ebook
