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Someone is stalking women and murdering them in Key West.
Psychics Levi Wolfe and Trudy Tucker join forces to help identify the murderer and stop him. Levi can channel the deceased victims and Trudy can tap into the mind of the killer. As a psychic detective team, they’re formidable. As lovers, they discover that they’re insatiable.
As they grow closer, Trudy wonders if Levi will ever completely trust her and let her know his heart. Levi struggles with his new, tender feelings toward Trudy and worries that she might be in over her head with him and with the case they’re working on.
Because if Trudy can see through the killer’s eyes, can the killer see her?
Small, warm puffs of air tickled her eyelids, her ear, her lips, and then whispered words wound their way into her consciousness.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty.”
She released a mewling grumble as she forced her eyes open to find Levi’s face inches from hers. He closed the distance and kissed her softly on the lips.
“She wakes!” he whispered. “Finally.” He kissed her again before leaning back a little to look down into her face. “Good morning.”
Trudy blinked. Was she dreaming? Wait . . . where was she? She glanced around. Oh, the cabin. The cabin? Propping herself on her elbows, she blinked rapidly at the sight of Levi stretched out beside her, bare-chested, the sheet hiding him from the navel down. She glanced at the window. It seemed to be grayish outside the dirty panes. “What time is it?”
“Six-thirty. You have officially spent the night with me, Miss Tucker. We’ve slept together.”
She peeked quickly under the sheet and was relieved to see that she was still dressed. “I need to get back to the Gypsy Spirit.”
“My RV. That’s what I named it.” She moved to fling aside the sheet and eject herself from the bed, but Levi clamped a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down.
“Oh, no you don’t. Just relax. I’ve enjoyed watching you sleep and now I’d like to enjoy watching you when you’re awake.”
“Watching me sleep?” she repeated, then shuddered. “Did I snore?”
His grin broadened and his eyes sparkled with mischief. “No.”
“I bet I drooled, didn’t I?” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, God. I did. I drooled.”
He tipped back his head and laughed and he looked so young and sexy that her heart tripped over itself. “No. No drooling,” he assured her, still chuckling.
“I didn’t say anything stupid in my sleep, did I?”
“Trudy, stop!” He shook his head and his teeth grazed over his full bottom lip. “Nothing happened. I don’t think you moved even a pinky finger once you fell asleep. You’re beautiful, you know. And you look like an angel when you’re sleeping.”
She covered her hot face with her hands for a few moments and studied him through her fingers. Even early in the morning, the man was sinfully delicious looking with the lower half of his face shadowed by stubble and his hair in a wild tousle. The fan of his dark lashes on his cheeks as he swept his gaze down her sheet-draped body sent a swirl of longing through her.
“Is that why you didn’t want to spend the night with me? You were afraid you’d snore or drool?”
“No . . . I . . .” She shrugged. What could she say? That she didn’t want to like him more than was absolutely necessary, but that train had already left the station because she was fairly sure she was halfway in love with him already? “Mouse! I need to—.”
“I’ve already seen to her.”
“You . . . you have?” she turned toward him and wondered if he had anything on under the sheet. When she’d peeked before, she’d only been concerned about her own body, not his.
“Yes. You left the door to your RV unlocked.”
“I wasn’t planning on being away all night,” she defended herself.
“Still . . . you must take your personal safety more seriously or I’ll have to do something about it!”
She blinked at him, realizing that he was actually serious. He was a little ticked off.
“Anyway, I found your keys inside the RV and I locked it behind me.” He nodded to the bedside table. “Your keys are there. I took Mouse for a walk around midnight. She’ll be okay for a few more hours.”
“Oh. Thanks.” She smiled, touched by his desire to protect her. He really could be so thoughtful. Levi Wolfe was a man of many, many moods. Wait . . . did he say . . . “A few more hours?”
“Well, yes.” He walked two fingers up her arm to her shoulder. “We need to get these clothes off you. They’re wrinkled.”
She eyed him, warily. “What are you wearing?”
“Armani,” he said around a grin.
“You are so bad.”
“Oh, no. I’m good. Damn good.” He leaned closer and kissed her mouth gently, softly. “I was wondering . . .”
“About what?” she asked, her lips brushing his with each word.
“If we were in the middle of doing . . . it.” He smiled against her lips. “Would the crazy motherfucker be able to grab hold of your mind?”
“I’ve wondered about that myself,” she admitted, angling back a little to see his pretty face better. “But I don’t think he would be able to because my mind – not to mention my body – would be too fully engaged.”
“Hmmm. But I want to mention your body,” he murmured, his mouth slipping over hers again. “More importantly, I want to see your body.” His warm hands moved up under her shirt and peeled it right off of her. “Because I’m addicted to your body,” he whispered, dropping kisses over the top of her breasts as his nimble fingers unhooked the front clasp of her bra. It fell away and she rose up enough to wiggle free of it and fling it aside. He rewarded her with a devilish grin and unbuttoned and unzipped her slacks. She hitched up her hips and let him slide them and her panties down her legs, sending them sailing. “That’s so much better.”
“Much,” she agreed.
Author of more than 45 novels, Deborah lives in Oklahoma. She has been a full-time writer since she graduated from the University of Tulsa. She worked for a few years as a reporter for newspapers before becoming a freelance writer. Deborah's first novel was published in the late 1970s and her books have been published by Jove, New American Library, Harlequin, Silhouette, and Avon. She has been inducted into the Oklahoma Authors Hall of Fame and she is a charter member of the Romance Writers of America. She is also a member of the Author's Guild.
Deborah likes to write about strong, independent women and the men who are their equals. Her books are available on Amazon and she’s an Amazon best-selling author.
YouTube Book Videos: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCySHBg4OJZRLv5Q9xVybraQ
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