By Gayle Callen
Within the ultimate instalment of Gayle Callen's fascinating Spies and fans trilogy, a mad–dash look for fact brings jointly an not going pair – a lady accused of treason, and the fellow who convicted her... Now that he ultimately has the notorious traitor, Julia Reed, in penal complex, you will imagine English agent Samuel Sherryngton will be happy to work out justice served. yet conditions are usually not regularly what they seem like, and the evidence will not be including up. quickly Sam has doubts over her guilt which, after all, has not anything to do with the charm for Julia he is been combating opposed to for thus a long time. now not keen to determine her finished for a criminal offense she would possibly not have dedicated, Sam defies the legislation of britain and breaks Julia out of penitentiary. What at the beginning all started as a seek to discover facts convicting Julia speedy becomes a quest to end up her innocence. Can this daring and rushing pair become aware of the reality and nonetheless make time for love?
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Though she was unsure of the truth, she couldn’t just accept such a horrible accusation about Lewis. He wouldn’t allow his own men to be killed, then blame it on her. She spread the cloak across the cot and sat on it. She wore only the towel, because the thought of putting her jail smock on again made her sick. “Sam, regardless of what you think, Edwin must have lied one last time. ” He turned around to face her and she let him, her back straight. His gaze dropped to her bare arms, her bare legs, before returning to her face.
She let her hands run slowly up his chest, try ing not to feel every hill and valley of muscle. Unlike his, her breath was coming much too fast, whether from fear or excitement she didn’t know. With an imperceptible shrug, she let the cloak slide back off one shoulder, and it took her loose dress with it, revealing the bare skin of her collarbone. Sam looked right at it, where she wanted him to, and he licked his lips. She gave a slow, satisﬁed smile. “Ye blokes better point us to a room,” he breathed hoarsely.
To her surprise, his heart wasn’t even beating quickly. She looked into his eyes and saw that every trace of familiarity had vanished, as if he weren’t Sam Sherryngton anymore. Where had he learned such skill? He was pre tending, and she would have to save herself by doing the same. She let her hands run slowly up his chest, try ing not to feel every hill and valley of muscle. Unlike his, her breath was coming much too fast, whether from fear or excitement she didn’t know. With an imperceptible shrug, she let the cloak slide back off one shoulder, and it took her loose dress with it, revealing the bare skin of her collarbone.