HOLDING FIRE Blitz by April Hunt
ABOUT THE BOOK
Title: HOLDING FIRE
Author: April Hunt
Series: Alpha Security, #2
On Sale: March 28, 2017
Publisher: Forever
Mass Market: $7.99 USD
eBook: $5.99 USD
The second book in April Hunt's romantic
suspense series, perfect for fans of Julie Ann Walker, Lora Leigh, and Rebecca
Zanetti.
Alpha Security operative Trey Hanson is ready
to settle down. When he meets a gorgeous blonde in a bar, and the connection
between them is off the charts, he thinks he's finally found the one. But after
their night together ends in a hail of gunfire and she disappears in the chaos,
Trey's reasons for tracking her down are personal . . . until he learns she's
his next assignment.
Elle Monroe never expected to see Trey again.
The night they shared was incredible, but the last thing she's looking for is a
relationship. Now that it's clear she's being targeted, though, she has no
choice but to trust this man she barely knows with her life. And Trey's not
just determined to keep her safe . . . he's determined to win her heart.
BUY THE BOOK HERE
THE ALPHA SECURITY SERIES
HEATED PURSUIT, #1
HOLDING FIRE, #2
HARD JUSTICE, #3
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
April blames her incurable chocolate addiction
on growing up in rural Pennsylvania, way too close to America's chocolate
capital, Hershey. She now lives in Virginia with her college sweetheart
husband, two young children, and a cat who thinks she's a human-dog hybrid. On
those rare occasions she's not donning the cape of her children's personal chauffer,
April's either planning, plotting, or writing about her next alpha hero and the
woman he never knew he needed, but now can't live without.
FOLLOW FOREVER ONLINE
RAFFLECOPTER
Elle stared, transfixed by the clock behind the airport’s claims
counter. Each snap of the second-hand took about five years off her life. Being
a few weeks shy of her thirtieth birthday, she estimated she had roughly
ten-and-a-half seconds until the coroner needed to be called. Twelve, max, with
a little bit of luck, but her luck seemed to be in short supply.
Her normal patience was at an all-time low, sucked into a black
hole right along with her personal hygiene and her luggage. Twenty total hours
in a plane, plus an unscheduled six-hour stop for mechanical repairs, was to
blame for the first. The latter two were entirely the fault of the airline.
With a deep sigh, Elle looked around the large, open space. People
milled through the airport, bulky suitcases bouncing behind them as they
scrambled to their destinations, while others procured blankets and pillows and
looked to be settling in for the duration of the night.
On her left, two children tackled the legs of a tall, slender
soldier dressed in desert fatigues. Laughing, the woman bent, spreading kisses
over every surface of their little cheeks.
Elle ignored the faint ache in her chest and watched the happy
family walk away. As they disappeared around the corner, a new sensation
whittled its way in—a tingle; the one
she’d felt the instant she and Shay unloaded from the gate—the one that came
with the ardent focus of someone’s attention. It took root in the pit of her
stomach and didn’t let go.
When she’d sensed it earlier, she blamed the paranoia on lack of
sleep and inhumane travel hours. But the prickle of awareness came back
tenfold, turning her head until she noticed the man leaning against the far
wall, reading a newspaper.
Elle did a double take. It wasn’t Trey. It couldn’t be. She’d left
him back in Thailand without so much as her last name, much less her travel
itinerary, yet the longer she stared at stranger across the room, the faster
her heart galloped.
Worn blue jeans encased his thighs perfectly. Not tight. Not baggy.
No doubt if he turned around, the rear would look as impressive as the front.
Both his face and his hair were disappointedly half-hidden by a baseball cap
and sunglasses, but he had the same strongly chiseled jaw and sexy blond scruff
that made her want to throw every razor known to man straight into the garbage.
Though he never looked away from his paper, the wall lounger’s lips
twitched, almost as if sensing her visual appraisal. That smirk. Those lips.
The stretch of a long-sleeved T over a chest wide enough to land an airplane
on. Elle nearly collapsed into an X-rated memory of how lips nearly identical
to those of this stranger had pleasurably ripped away all her sensibilities only
a scant few days ago.
Standing in the middle of a busy airport definitely wasn’t the time
to relive her night with Trey. When her turn came up at the counter, she gave
herself a mental slap and focused on giving the attendant the information the
airline needed to reconnect her with her suitcase. And then with a Have a nice day and her single carry-on,
Elle shuffled away to wait for Shay to finish in the bathroom.
She searched her purse for her cell phone and bounced off the chest
of another traveler.
“Oh, my God. I’m so
sorry.” She reflexively reached out to steady to victim.
“Shut it,” a low voice
snarled.
Oh, hell no. Exhaustion
mixed with an insane need to shower off the last day and a half made her head
swivel to Mr. Attitude. She looked up. And up. Whoa. He was ridiculously tall.
If she’d had a little bit more sleep she’d probably be able to talk
herself out of confronting someone so freaking huge, but she’d had a middle
seat, and both Shay and the man to her left had been armrest hogs. Elle was
eight hours past polite.
She narrowed her eyes, wishing her glare would make him squirm. “It
was an accident. I said I was sorry. There’s no need to be a jerk about it.”
“Actually, there is.” Mr. Attitude clamped a hand around her upper
arm and squeezed.
“Ow. Hey, watch it!” She
tugged, and he tightened his hold.
He leaned his large body way past her personal boundaries. That was
when she saw the scar, half-hidden behind his sunglasses. It looked angrier up
close, the skin around his eye socket puckered straight up to his hairline.
Cold dread licked up Elle’s spine.
It was Alley Man.
“I told you to shut. The fuck. Up.” He emphasized each word and
punctuated it with a sharp jab to her ribs. When she attempted to twist away,
the poke came again—this time with the cool sensation of metal.
A gun.
Alley Man stepped closer, careful to keep it hidden from view. “If
you so much as twitch, sputter, or look at anyone cross-eyed, I won’t hesitate
to make this very bad for you. Do you fucking understand me?”
Elle re-swallowed the bile that had risen to her throat. “I should
probably warn you that I don’t have any money. Well, I have about ten dollars’
worth of Thai baht, but that’s about
it. And maybe a fuzzy breath mint.”
Tightening his grip, he steered them away from anyone who would
remotely care what was happening. And let’s face it: This was one of the
busiest airports in the country. No one was going to notice one travel-ravaged
blonde, even if she stripped down to her cotton undies and streaked half naked
through the terminal.
Alley Man kept the gun pressed firmly between her ribs as he
directed them to the exit. “I don’t want your money, Miss Monroe.”
Elle’s heart went from a steady thunder to an apocalyptic roar. He knew her name. He knew she’d be at this airport. On this day. On this flight.
The only thing Elle knew was that she was really—and
completely—screwed.
Comments