By Marilyn Lee
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THE BOURNE id: He has no previous. And he can have no destiny. His reminiscence is clean. He merely is familiar with that he used to be fished out of the Mediterranean Sea, his physique riddled with bullets. There are a couple of clues: proof that cosmetic surgery has altered his face, a Swiss checking account containing 4 million money, and a reputation: Jason Bourne.
Ein unwiderstehliches Angebot lockt Alex McAuliff nach London: Der amerikanische Wissenschaftler soll eine Million greenback erhalten, wenn er eine geologische Landvermessung im Innern von Jamaika leitet. Doch der Auftrag birgt große Gefahren.
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Additional resources for A Thing Called Love
He looked down at her hand. Short, unpolished nails. Long, lean fingers. They'd feel good on his face. Against his body. Caressing his cock and guiding it into her body as she'd apparently done with Hillhower. What would it be like to kiss her soft, lush looking lips? Caress her rump and make slow, sweet love to her while suckling at her breasts? Bracing himself against his desk with one hand, he caught her hand in his and brushed his lips over the back of her fingers. He felt her tremble as he pressed his tongue and then his lips into the palm of her hand.
Pleasure later. Maybe. But not with the likes of Dan Janson. She jimmied the lock on the center drawer of Hillhower's antique desk. Taking a deep breath, she slowly pulled the drawer open. Hillhower's bank statement was on top. It was dated just two weeks earlier. Her heart sank when she saw the balance. $10,000. There were three other bank statements with a combined balance of $9,000 for a total of $19,000. No proof of graft there. But it had to be there somewhere. Long before Neely had started to hint at corruption in the 8th, Jamie had begun to suspect that Hillhower was on the take.
Com Chapter One Jamie Hanna's tawny face creased into a frown and she moved restlessly on the passenger side of the car. She slipped a hand between the seat and her back and released a small sigh of relief when her fingers touched the familiar, reassuring contours of her gun, resting in her waist holster. Pulling her hand away, she cast a quick look around her. Dusk had fallen and none of the alley lamps worked. The fact that there were shadows everywhere and the car was in a darkened recess across from the building they were staking out didn't make her feel any better about their present situation.