Against the Edge

Chapter Seven (#u9e634bc2-05b1-5c99-b5e9-3030ed5213bb)

Chapter Eight (#u07ebb1a9-14a3-5d4d-a13b-048f5f8ed3b9)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Author’s Note (#litres_trial_promo)

One

Houston, Texas

His head was pounding. Too much Jack Daniel’s last night. When Ben Slocum pulled his big black SUV into the driveway in front of his garage, the only thing on his mind was getting a couple hours of sleep.

Reaching up to hit the garage door opener on his visor, he spotted a silver Buick with Hertz rental plates parked in front of the house. His gaze swung to the porch, where a woman in a conservative yellow business suit stood rapping on his door.

Ben groaned. Last night two of his best friends, Alex Justice and Sabrina Eckhart, had gotten married. Alex, one of his fellow private investigators at Atlas Security, had fallen hard for the pretty redhead. Ben had never seen a guy look happier about getting hitched.

Their early-October wedding had turned into good news for Ben, who’d gotten lucky with a slinky little blonde from Dallas he had met at the reception. He’d spent the night in her bed at the Marriott, and neither of them had gotten much sleep.

Still dressed in his black tuxedo, Ben glanced at the porch, shoved the Denali into Park and turned off the engine, cracked open the door and slid out from behind the wheel. His pants were wrinkled, his white pleated shirt haphazardly buttoned and opened halfway down the front. His black bow tie hung loose around his collar.

Company this morning was the last thing he wanted.

He took a long look at the woman whose attention was now fixed on him as he crossed the front lawn. She was tall and slender, with dark brown hair clipped back at the nape of her neck, and a very pretty face. High cheekbones, a heart-shaped face and full lips. Too bad they were currently thinned in a disapproving line.

He wondered what she was selling. Whatever it was, he wasn’t buying. He just wanted to hit the sheets.

Ben strode up on the porch. “’Fraid nobody’s home,” he said, hoping she would just go away. He wasn’t in the mood for another female, no matter how good she looked.

“I can see that,” she said. “I’m looking for Benjamin Slocum. I presume that’s you?”

He lifted a black eyebrow. “And you would be?”

“My name is Claire Chastain. I need to speak to you, Mr. Slocum, on a matter of extreme importance.”

“I’ll be in my office this afternoon. Why don’t you stop by...say three o’clock? We can talk about anything you like.”

“This can’t wait.”

Of course not. She was a woman. Everything was a matter of critical meltdown. “Is this business or personal?”

“Personal.”

He let his gaze drift over her, taking in the soft curves. Slender and elegant, but there was plenty of female wrapped up in the pretty package.