Intimate Knowledge
While camping Jennifer unwittingly stumbles upon a corrupt conspiracy. Only Saul—her best friend since childhood—can help her unravel the complex plot and keep her safe.
When Jennifer Mabbot goes camping in the Forest of Dean for some much needed soul-searching, she had no idea her life was about to take a very drastic turn. Witnessing a strange man burying a wooden box in the middle of the night, she thought it strange but nothing overly noteworthy.
Until, that is, she came home to be confronted by two men, clearly intent on hurting her for the whereabouts of the burial site. Turning to the only person she could trust—her life-long best friend, Saul Haslen—she asks for help and gets more than she could possibly bargain for.
Jennifer knows Saul does some sort of Government work, but actually he is an elite member of The Agency. With danger coming from all sides and neither of them fully understanding what's happening, they must work together to uncover the truth.
Before, Jennifer would have sworn she knew practically everything there was to know of Saul. But they are both learning more about each other, personally and sexually. Within that intimate knowledge lies the key to both their futures, and lasting happiness.
Unearthed Treasure
Chelsea and David have been working a year and a half to stop a smuggling ring. While discovering the last link, they unearth a far greater treasure—that of each other's love.
Chelsea Atchison and David Greer have been working deep undercover for the last eighteen months to break a smuggling ring. Finally uncovering a workable lead they join the crew with the intention of helping them break into and steal from the National Gallery of London. What they hadn't expected to uncover was the simmering desire for one another.
With no one but each other to trust, surrounded on all sides by their enemy and even their beloved work place—The Agency—starts to doubt them. The trust Chelsea and David had built between themselves explodes passionately into much, much more.
Still, they need to focus on the big picture, discovering the shadowy boss that the smuggling crew is answerable to and bringing him and the others to justice. When that involves breaking every law in the book, what's one more—sexual intimacy between colleagues?
General Release Date: 27th September 2013
Intimate Knowledge
Jennifer rounded the corner and turned into her street. Her head bent low against the misty, drizzling rain, she tugged her beanie as far as it could go. Her ears were starting to freeze off. Focusing on her steps, she remained oblivious to the world around her, her attention focused on the long, steaming hot bath she planned to take the second she entered her flat.
Never had she been more grateful for a Friday. Despite the fact she’d only worked the last three days after returning from the Forest of Dean, she was exhausted, chilled to the bone and weary in a way she’d hoped to overcome on her short camping trip. She felt like she’d worked a full week, and considering the pile of still unfinished work she’d left behind, that just depressed her spirits even further.
A few doors down from her flat she tugged one glove off and dug it into an outside pocket of her work satchel. The strap was across her chest, the satchel itself resting against her upper thigh to make it more difficult for a random thief to snatch it from her. The bag was battered from years of use, but Jennifer didn’t care, she loved this satchel. It had tons of pockets of all shapes and sizes. She kept an umbrella in one, her phone in another, pens and a notebook in case she had an idea—or a shopping list—to jot down in random moments, all sorts of paraphernalia secreted into its depths.
A smaller zippered compartment on the outside was perfect for holding her keys. It was this she undid and rummaged through, determined to not waste precious seconds standing on her front step in the cold. Jennifer had plans, big ones. First she’d start running the hot water. This would be quickly followed by stripping and putting on her worn, fluffy robe. Then a strong drink. Oh yeah. She deserved something decadent. Maybe a hot toddy?
Her mind full of these lovely thoughts, Jennifer kept her head down and her focus internal. She climbed up the stairs, keys in hand and entered her tiny flat. Instinct took over as she started ticking off the items on her mental to-do list. She dropped the keys in the bowl by the door and switched on the lights as she kicked the door closed behind her.
Without missing a beat she strode directly for the bathroom, still rugged up in her winter gear and wearing her satchel. She was halfway across her living room, heading for the hall and her awaiting bath when an enormous figure stepped out of the kitchen.
Jennifer screamed shrilly.
Well over six feet and heavily muscled in a powerful, weights-pumping manner, the thickset man grinned. It wasn’t a pleasant thing, but an expression that made her stomach churn sickly.
"Well, lookee here, who’s come home finally."
Jennifer froze, surprise overpowering her. She could see this man, but his presence didn’t seem to want to compute in her brain.
"Aww, she’s gone all shy," he continued as he scratched his ginger beard. His grin widened. "Well, I’m not too worried about that, I’m sure you’ll be very verbal once I get to work on you."
Jennifer shook her head and took a shaking step back. She knew—or rather desperately hoped—in a second or so she’d turn into some sort of superhero. Part of her mind envisaged herself fighting this man, beating him senseless and fleeing, but her body refused to do anything but quiver.
"What do you want?" she asked, struggling to hide the fear that threatened to overpower her completely. She flicked her gaze up and down him, trying to make sense of the situation. Her eyes were drawn to his heavy work-man’s boots. They were cracked, worn and clearly well used. It was the most normal, least threatening thing for her brain to latch onto. It took a second, but she finally understood why that detail captured her attention. Those boots weren’t what a regular thief would wear. They were thick-soled, clompy and noticeable. Coupled with the man’s powerful physique it suggested to her that he was no ordinary thief.
Which meant he was there to hurt her, or worse.
Jennifer took another quick step back, her heart pounding harder.
"Now don’t be like that," he mocked in his rough voice. "We’re going to be great friends, you and I."
Unearthed Treasure
Chelsea Atchison cast a brief look at her partner as she swiped her security pass to open the 'Employee Only' door. David Greer lifted an unsteady hand and tugged a stray lock of his shoulder-length hair behind his ear, his face reflecting the same confusion and surprise she felt.
The lock beeped and she depressed the handle. Brushing her long, dark brown curls away from her face she hurried through the door. She held it open until David Greer also passed through.
He shut the door behind them, the lock snicking audibly.
Her heart hammered, though she tried not to outwardly betray her concern.
So far their plans had turned totally to shit.
"What the hell happened out there?" she asked with a vague wave at the enormous main foyer of the National Gallery of London—where they’d just left. "None of this was supposed to happen. It sounded like a rocket launcher went off, and damned if the whole front façde of the building isn’t decimated. We’ve been planning for this afternoon for almost eighteen months, and now, mere hours from our goal, everything goes wrong."
"If by going wrong you mean half the city’s police force are now likely on their way, yes, I think it’s clear something is amiss," David replied.
Chelsea halted in the middle of the long corridor they had been hurrying through. Annoyed by the part sarcastic, part amused lilt to her partner’s tone she pressed her hands to her hips and glared at him.
Of medium height and lithe build, it was only when one looked into those warm brown, steady eyes that David’s intelligence and solid strength could be seen. Chelsea had trusted him from the moment she’d got a real, lasting look into his gaze. But it had been the sporadic flicker of a smile that helped soften his features. That, coupled with his lush, shoulder-length, medium brown hair got her heart pattering faster than usual.
David would never be a cover model, or sinfully handsome, but he more than revved her engines and set her breath racing from a casual glance.
"Don’t you take that tone with me. I played my part to the letter. I warned you that woman Jennifer was trouble the moment you told me she’d seen you bury the box with the spare security card and blueprints in it. Anyone would be curious after having seen that. I’m surprised it took so long for her and that Agency fellow Saul to put the pieces together."
"You agreed we should keep the London branch of the Agency out of this. I explained the situation to you. I never lied."
Chelsea sighed. She could just make out the sound of approaching sirens. They both kept walking, though more calmly now.
"I know. But we’ve come so far, we’re so close to hearing what the smugglers consider the main goal—Phase Two to their plan."
"We’ll get there," David insisted in a low tone. "If you want to back out, to call it quits—"
"Bite your tongue," she replied.
Chelsea turned her head to look over her shoulder at David. He watched her carefully, his dark brown eyes serious. She knew his lithe build was deceptive, he didn’t look anywhere near as physically strong as she knew he was. Brown hair fell in a soft curtain to graze his shoulders and frame his angular face. Normally she loved hearing him speak, the faint lilt of his accent reminding her of home and warmth—of comfort.
She reached out and surprised them both by taking his hand, threading their fingers together.
"We’re a team," she said firmly. "There is not a person on this planet more fierce or stubborn than the two of us. I know we’ve had our problems, particularly when we were first partnered for this mission. But over the last year and a half I’ve come to rely on your instincts, I listen to your judgements and we make all our decisions together. We’re partners. Equals. Unless you’re wanting to back out of this mission I don’t want to hear another word about giving up, especially not for something as insulting as you wanting to protect me."
"No one is more important to me than you," he said with a simple, brutal honesty. Chelsea smiled, certain there would be some joke or additional comment coming on the heels of his statement, but David simply watched her, seemingly waiting for her response. Her smile faded. She realised he meant the words exactly as he’d said them.
"David," she stammered, surprised, pleased, excited. A whirl of emotions grew inside her as she understood that the growing attraction she was feeling for this man was reciprocated. Heavy boots sounded from behind them.
They both turned to glance back, then simultaneously broke into a run.
"Damn it," Chelsea cursed. "This is not the fucking time. I just can’t catch a break with you, can I?"
"If it wasn’t this it would be something else," David replied with a wry grin. "The rest of the smuggling team, armed assault agents, something."
"This conversation isn’t over," she promised him. "But maybe we should get somewhere secure first."
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