|
Special Agent Ming McCann is a no-nonsense gal. She may be tough-as-nails and competitive as hell, but she likes her silk sheets and expensive wine. She’s a collector of fine things, so she has to wonder… What the hell was the Pentagon was thinking when they assigned her Major Lee Blackhart?
Lee is a charming rogue, used to living life on the edge, and his needs are simple—a fast car, a beautiful woman, and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. His exploits with women are legendary and yet he still manages to have them lined up outside his door. Lee could have his pick of any one of them… But the one he really wants is Ming.
When they’re forced to work undercover together on an operation that takes them from Baghdad to Moscow, the unlikely pair find they also seem to work together under the covers. Will the country-music-loving, red-corvette-driving rascal succeed in capturing the heart of a woman whose taste runs more to chardonnay, BMWs, and Manolo Blahniks? Or will Ming’s win-at-all-costs decision destroy the trust between them?
Customer Ratings:
OVERALL ENJOYMENT Not rated
SENSUALITY Not rated
Based on 0 reviews Editorial Reviews:
From Matilda, Coffee Time Romance
“Breach of Protocol has so much to offer the reader; suspense, passion, humor, and one charismatic leading man. There is never a dull moment.”
Excerpt:
“Be right back,” Lee said, getting up from the table they were sharing at the tiny coffee shop.
“Where are you going?”
“Need to see if our guys have firmed up a time to get us out of here.”
He left without another word, returning a bit later with a big smile on his face.
“I take it you got good news?” Ming ventured.
He nodded. “Got directions to a little place not far outside of town. They’ll make contact later this evening.” He pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go.”
Ming followed him outside and when he stopped in front of a troika piled high with sable spreads, she gasped. “This is how we’re going out?”
“No, but this is how we’re getting to our pick-up point.” He lifted her up onto the seat and climbed aboard behind her.
“Where’s the driver?”
“You’re looking at him, sweetheart.”
Lee called to the horses and they set off through the deep drifts of snow, stopping an hour or so later when the troika came to rest on a rise that overlooked the onion domes of Suzdal’s churches and monasteries. The moon was high in the sky and snow flakes began to filter through the air.
In the distance, sleigh bells rang.
“Very romantic,” Lee whispered. “Straight out of Dr. Zhivago, don’t you think?”
“Mom’s favorite movie,” Ming sighed. “Where is Omar Sharif when I need him?”
“Somewhere, my love,” Lee started to sing.
“You promised,” Ming reminded him.
“Kiss me, sweetheart.” He reached for her, pulled her to him in the moonlight.
“You know you promised.”
“Yeah, sweetheart, I promised, but you didn’t promise a damn thing. Kiss me.”
“I’d sooner kiss a striped snake.”
“Hiss, hiss. Now kiss me.” He pressed himself against her, felt her softness. He undid her hair, felt it rush over his fingers like a luxurious waterfall. “Kiss me, Ming.”
“Please don’t,” she murmured, as his tongue flicked along the sides of her face, down her neck. He undid the buttons of her blouse, pulled up his own shirt, pressed her to him.
Mesmerized, Ming embraced him, her hands wandering under the pulled-up shirt, then snuggling under the back waistband of his trousers.
He sighed with passion and nudged himself forward to tempt her.
His warm hands slid down her back and she buried her face in his firmly muscled chest, relishing the hot, hard feel of him.
“Kiss me, sweetheart,” he said again, his voice huskier this time.
Ming didn’t answer him, just gripped his shirt in her hands and pulled his face down to hers. Falling back into the nest of sable, she found his lips, covered them with hers, opened her mouth to him, accepted his tongue greedily. She felt her breath grow ragged, felt him open her silk blouse still wider, flip her firm breasts out of the lacy bra.
Of their own accord, her legs shimmied up his, her ankles hooking behind his waist. She was pressed as close to him as she could possibly be without being part of him. Unashamedly she rubbed against him, desperate to feel him naked and throbbing.
He looked at her, his devil-green eyes glittering in the dark. “I love you, Ming. God help me, I love you.” He kissed her hard and long, his own breathing coming in ragged gasps now. “Let me love you.”
|
