The Hill

By: Carol Ericson

When they hit the dance floor, Judd pulled London snug against his body.

Wrapping one arm around her slender waist, he reached up with his other arm to tuck her head against his shoulder. Her breath warmed his skin through the thin material of his shirt.

He rested his cheek against her bright hair and the golden strands stuck to the stubble of his beard. Reaching between their bodies, he opened her leather jacket and drew her close again, his chest pressing against her soft breasts beneath the silvery material of her dress.

She shifted and her soft lips touched the side of his neck.

He gritted his teeth to suppress the shudder threatening to engulf his body … and for the first time in a very long time and a very long line of women, he felt on the edge of losing control.

Then the door to the bar burst open and London’s driver, bloodied and battered, staggered into the room and dropped to the floor.





CAST OF CHARACTERS

Judd Brody—A private investigator whose current client, an heiress with a stalker, proves to be more than he bargained for, both professionally and personally. But their pasts are intertwined, and helping her just might help him solve the mystery of his father’s suicide.

London Breck—This socialite heiress has a lot on her plate; what she doesn’t need is someone stalking her. The sexy P.I. she hires as a bodyguard can do more than protect her—he just might end up saving her life.

Spencer Breck—London’s father may have passed away, but he still throws a long shadow over Judd’s past and London’s future and may hold the key to both.

Jay Breck—London’s uncle had a falling out with London’s father. Could the rift between the brothers be the source of London’s current turmoil?

Niles Breck—London’s cousin has millions to his name, but his desire for more will get him in trouble.

Roger Taylor—He already helps London manage Breck Global Enterprises, but he wants more from her and may decide to take it.

Richard Taylor—He’s been running Breck Global Enterprises for a long time; it’s only natural he’d resent any interference from London.

Wade Vickers—London’s half brother seems content with his role in his father’s company, but does his cool exterior mask a raging jealousy?

Captain Williams—This SFPD detective knew both Judd’s father and London’s father, which means he knows all their secrets, but do they know his?







Chapter One

“Your father was murdered. You could be next.”

London Breck jerked her head up from the slip of paper and caught the waiter’s arm as he turned away. “I’m sorry. Who gave this to you?”

The young man’s eyes widened and London released her death grip on his white jacket.

“Like I told you, Ms. Breck. I found the folded piece of paper on my tray with your name written on the outside. I—I don’t know who put it there...and I didn’t read it.”

She crumpled the note in her fist and dropped it into her evening clutch, trading it for a ten-dollar bill. “That’s okay. Thanks for delivering it to me.”

The waiter pocketed the money and scurried away without looking back.

Someone had decided to play a joke with that note, or it signaled the opening gambit of some sort of scam. London tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. If this con man believed he could pull a fast one on her or Breck Global Enterprises, he hadn’t met their legal team.

She straightened her spine and turned to face the room, smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. It was an occupational hazard—if one could call glad-handing and raising money an occupation. But it was the only one she’d ever had, the only one she’d ever trained for.

She swept a champagne flute from a passing tray with practiced ease and turned her attention to the crowd jamming the Fairmont Hotel’s ballroom. Which well-heeled donor or wannabe had left that note? Scanning the room, her gaze tripped over the hottie in the corner.

Even though his crisp tux conformed to the dress code for the evening, he had outsider scribbled all over his amazing body. The tux couldn’t mask the sheer power of the man, and it had very little to do with the way the material puckered and stretched across his massive shoulders, crying out for a good tailor.

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