Drake Sisters 03 - Oceans of Fire

Saunders never bothered to look for them. She made out two large men sitting in the gazebo housing a hot tub. Saunders went for the intimidation factor in his men, wanting them pumped up to bully people with appearance alone. She could hear the murmur of conversation as they discussed a club in the French Quarter they both were particularly fond of.
    She moved past them easily, creeping along the hedge until she found the small rock painted white to make it easy to spot in the dark. She’d dropped the rock there hours earlier to mark the only place along the back fence she could go over and be in a clean landing spot inside the thick foliage surrounding the brick wall. Pocketing it now, she looked left and right, listened for a minute, and leapt over the fence, landing blind on the other side. She remained crouched, her heart beginning to accelerate again.
    Whitney’s man would know she was up to something by now, that she would never stay inside the estate grounds so long. He was probably stalking her.
    She sent every psychic and natural sense she had out into the night, searching for information, listening for the sound of footsteps, of the whisper of clothing sliding through vegetation. Even the sudden silence of insects would tip her off to the other’s location, but she heard only the regular sounds of the night.
    Flame didn’t wait for the alarm to be raised behind her. Staying low in the shadows along the brick wall she moved quickly, keeping to the foliage as much as possible, all the while scanning the area for sound or movement. She shushed several guard dogs as she passed more houses. When she was three blocks from Saunders’s estate, she halted. She had to cross the street to get to the park where she’d left her motorcycle and the lamps were spilling light brightly across the paved road.
    She waited there in the darkness. The feeling that she wasn’t alone crept in. The weight of the four briefcases was heavy on her shoulder, but she could use it as a weapon if necessary—if she got that close.
    Soft male laughter reached her from deep within the trees of the park. “You may as well come on over, cher . Aren’tcha getting all hot and bothered standin‘ there wonderin’ whether or not I’ve got me a gun?”

    CHRISTINE FEEHAN
    I live in the beautiful mountains ofLake County,California. I have always loved hiking, camping, rafting, and being outdoors. I’ve also been involved in the martial arts for years—I hold a third-degree black belt, instruct in a Korean karate system, and have taught self-defense. I am happily married to a romantic man, who often inspires me with his thoughtfulness. We have a yours, mine, and ours family, claiming eleven children as our own. I have always written books, forcing my ten sisters to read every word, and now my daughters read and help me edit my manuscripts. It is fun to take all the research I have done on wild animals, raptors, vampires, weather, and volcanos and put it together with romance. Please visit my
    website athttp://www.christinefeehan.com .