Praise for Shannon McKenna
“Sensual, hard-hitting love scenes, and underlying themes of hope, faithfulness and survival.”
—Romantic Times on Extreme Danger (4 starred review)
“A passionate, intense story about two people rekindling lost love in the middle of a dangerous, heart-pounding situation. Intricate storylines give the book depth and power, tying in the edge-of-your-seat ending with flawless ease.”
—Romantic Times on Edge of Midnight (4½ starred review)
“Wild boy Sean McCloud takes center stage in McKenna’s romantic suspense series. Full of turbocharged sex scenes, this action-packed novel is sure to be a crowd pleaser.”
—Publishers Weekly on Edge of Midnight
“Highly creative, erotic sex and constant danger.”
—Romantic Times on Hot Night (4½ starred review and a Top Pick!)
“Super-sexy suspense! Shannon McKenna does it again.”
—Cherry Adair on Hot Night
“A scorcher. Romantic suspense at its best!”
—Romantic Times on Out of Control (4½ starred review)
“Well-crafted romantic suspense. McKenna builds sexual chemistry and tension between her characters to a level of intensity that explodes into sexually explicit love scenes.”
—Romantic Times on Return to Me (4½ starred review)
SHANNON MCKENNA
TASTING FEAR
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
www.kensingtonbooks.com
Contents
Prologue
Outside the Limit
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Ask for More
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Ready or Not
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Prologue
John was stoked. This job was going to be easy money.
He parked in the shadow of a tree—not that his quarry could see him parked around the corner. The stupid old fuck was probably congratulating himself for being so crafty. Marco Barbieri’s plane from Italy had landed five hours ago, and the old man had been riding taxis in big, useless circles around the boroughs of New York City ever since. He’d changed cabs five times, but he always took the traitorous RF blip with him, the one planted deep in the trolley of his carry-on suitcase.
And it had led John right to the small upstate town of Hempton.
Served the old fart right for trusting his domestic staff back at his crumbling palazzo in Castiglione Santangelo. All it took was money to get the device planted in Barbieri’s suitcase. Not even that much money.
John slunk along the spiked wrought-iron fence that lined the street, staying in the shadows of overhanging shrubs. The taxi was pulling away, turning the corner. Barbieri climbed the steps slowly.
Triumph pumped through John. He’d found the elusive, long-lost Contessa. Marco Barbieri’s runaway bride. She’d be a shriveled hag now. Too damn bad, but she was still the key to the treasure chest. Marco Barbieri himself knew jack-shit. He was played out, ripe for the coroner’s slab, but the Contessa was another story. She would know what his boss needed to know. Why the fuck else would she have run?
John’s hands twitched with eagerness.
The door opened. A square of light, a tall, thin silhouette of a woman. The two figures stared at each other, motionless. John squinted in the dark. Too far to be sure, but saliva still pumped into his mouth.
They were speaking. John wished he’d been able to plant a listening device. Fuck it, he’d just get the woman to repeat their conversation, word for word. A few minutes with John’s talents, and the old bitch would walk on her hands and bark like a dog if he told her to.
He enjoyed that part of his work a bit more than he should, but whatever. No one ever knew how much he enjoyed himself on the job except for his victims. And they certainly weren’t telling.
He pondered ways and means as he composed himself to wait. Killing Barbieri in front of the Contessa would put her in the right mind-set for his interrogation, but it might also make a mess. John could wait when the situation warranted it, but his employer had been waiting for decades already. Nothing could be served by more waiting.