By Maya Banks
The Kelly staff foreign (KGI): A super-elite, most sensible mystery, family-run business.
Qualifications: excessive intelligence, rock-hard physique, army background.
Mission: Hostage/kidnap sufferer restoration. Intelligence collecting. dealing with jobs the U.S. govt can’t…
Over the years, Donovan Kelly has fought relentlessly for justice, ladies and youngsters regularly retaining a distinct position in his center. operating facet through facet along with his brothers, Donovan has witnessed firsthand the toll it’s taken—physically, mentally, and emotionally—on his family, and the blameless lives stuck within the crossfire. What he by no means expects is for his subsequent project to occur correct on his domestic turf—or for it to take a truly own turn.
Picturesque Kentucky Lake is the correct position for a soul looking for secure harbor. a gorgeous stranger has arrived—desperate, breathless, and at the run from a dismal earlier ultimate in on her and the more youthful siblings she has vowed to guard. Donovan needs to now draw on each source at his disposal—if he desires to store a girl and the kids who could end up to be his future.
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Extra info for After the Storm (KGI, Book 8)
We were so close our chins were almost touching. For one delicious second, we looked into each other’s eyes. That’s when she kissed me. Softly, sweetly. I put my arms around her waist and pulled her toward me. She was lighter than I thought she would be, softer, so delicate. After a minute as we continued to slowly kiss, I felt her warm hands tremble against the back of my neck. ” I whispered. ” “Wait. Yes. I mean, no. I mean, I’m sorry, Mike,” she said, suddenly breaking away. In the faint light from the bar’s neon signs, I watched her cross the beach at a fast walk that turned into a jog.
I reluctantly followed him into the cavernous reading room. The space resembled a ballroom and was even more impressive than the entry hall, with its massive arched windows, chandeliers, and nineteenth-century indoor football field of books. The last library table in the northern end zone of the elaborate room was covered by a thick orange Kevlar bomb-suppression blanket. I felt my pulse triple and my hands clench involuntarily as Cell lifted it off. In the center of the table was what looked like a white laptop.
Chapter 5 A BIG BALD GUY with a twirly black mustache and tactical blue fatigues met me beneath the landmark building’s massive portico. With his mustache, Paul Cell bore a striking resemblance to the guy on the Bomb Squad’s logo patch, depicting a devil-may-care Red Baron–looking guy riding a bomb in front of the skyline of Manhattan. “We got the parked cars and street furniture sniffed, so I’m pretty sure there aren’t any secondary devices,” Cell said. “Think about it. Draw in the first responders with a decoy.