Fair Game, Inc












ISBN Print: 978-1-60154-821-4
Page Count: 252
Word Count: 67114
Rating: Spicy(PG13)
MSRP: 6.00


Fair Game, Inc. Their motto: Don't get mad, get even! After a romance gone wrong, Amber Shaw has found a new business niche: revenge for the lovelorn. And business is booming. Until she mistakes her intended victim for his identical twin. Prosecutor Grayson Charles is tired of listening to his brother's romantic woes. Just when he thinks his night can't get any worse, a red-haired, spit-fire of a woman treats him to an ice-bath--from the waist down.

Grayson vows to get even with the proprietor of Fair Game, Inc. by taking her to court. What he doesn't expect: Amber is sentenced to a month of office assistance at his law firm.

Despite the circumstances, Amber finds herself falling for the handsome lawyer. But while working in his office, she uncovers some dark secrets. All the clues behind these disturbing revelations lead to Grayson, but she has no proof.

Is it Grayson? Or does someone harbor a more personal vendetta against her?

(Pages 252) Spicy
ISBN: 1-60154-821-4

Excerpt:

Her shadow fell between them, blocking out the candlelight.

He looked up. She felt the path of his gaze as it wandered from her head to her feet. Amber suppressed the wave of heat that followed in the wake of his perusal. His eyes fastened on the bucket of ice in her hand. He opened his mouth to say something. Amber offered him her most winning smile.

And dumped the contents of the ice bucket square in his lap.

For a split second it seemed as if time ground to a halt. Sounds of the busy restaurant retreated from her attention, leaving the two of them frozen in an absurd tableau. He stared up at her, his expression at once both wounded and bewildered. Amber shook off the persistent feeling of wrongness once again. The picture named him Roger Charles, Casanova.

The moment evaporated. Time sprang into motion. Heads swiveled in their direction. Patrons gawked openly. She watched his expression deteriorate from confusion into pure liquid fury.

"What the hell!"

He leapt backward, knocking over his chair. Ice cubes tumbled from his lap, tinkling like breaking glass onto the terra cotta floor. Dark eyes dragged her gaze upward. She found herself incapable of looking away as the force of his glare all but nailed her to the spot.

"Justice, Mr. Roger Charles," Amber's voice shattered the silence. No sense giving them a chance to deny it. Most of them would. "On behalf of Sandy Wylde."

"Sandy Wylde?" His deep melodic voice was also at odds with his persona. Hurt and bewilderment played across his face, then his dark eyebrows drew down into a menacing V. "You better have a good explanation," he growled low in his throat




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