Private investigator Ari Danner is out of money and out of luck in Las Vegas when she’s offered the biggest contract of her life. The first problem? The job is in California. The second problem? She’ll have to go undercover as a beach babe and she can’t even swim. But the money is too good to pass up, and she’ll do anything to secure her daughter’s future, even cosy up to pro surfer Zach Torres as she gathers evidence of his role in a sports betting scam.
Zach Torres doesn’t usually pick up women by giving them CPR on his surfboard, but right from the start, he knew Ari was different. Smart, easy to talk to, interested in more than his billboard-worthy abs. But secrets can tear love apart, and Zach soon finds that there’s more than his relationship at risk.
Hard Tide is a standalone romantic suspense novel in the Blackstone House series.
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Ari – the beginning…
“Get your hand off my thigh.”
“Nobody has to know.”
Seriously, he thought that was my concern? I’d heard on the grapevine that Dale Jankowski, my boss, had wandering hands and a wandering cock too, but until now, I’d never experienced the “pleasure” for myself. Probably because I’d made sure to wear pants every day and avoided smiling, small talk, and make-up. Boring low ponytail, flat shoes, clothes in fifty shades of beige—that was me.
I’d also heard that some women liked his attention—Jankowski might have been in his early fifties, but he kept in shape, and as the boss of The Twilight Agency, he was quite the catch. His third wife had certainly thought so when she married him two months ago. Not one but six hotel residents had complained about the noise coming from the honeymoon suite, or so I’d been told.
“I’m not interested.”
His right hand stayed in place, and he used his left to sweep the bangs away from my eyes. A chill ran up my spine. During the daytime, Jankowski lorded over his peons, slightly obnoxious but tolerable. In the five months I’d been working at Twilight, I’d grown used to his demanding management style and learned to live with it, but this was the first time I’d visited his office late in the evening. I’d only meant to drop off a report, but he’d asked me to sit down and talk him through the details, and I could hardly decline. He did pay my salary, after all. So I’d done as requested, and I was certain he hadn’t listened to a word I’d said. No, his mind had been on other things. When I’d asked if he had any questions, he’d risen from his fancy leather swivel chair, walked around his desk, and perched a butt cheek on the polished walnut.
“You fascinate me, Arizona. Such a pretty face, and a great ass too, yet you keep it hidden under those dowdy clothes.”
“I need to go home.” I waved toward the file I’d just dropped onto his desk and pushed my chair back, freeing myself from his touch. “If you need more information, it’s all in the report.”
“Ah, yes, home to your daughter. Everybody warned me not to hire a single mother for this job, but I saw something in you that they didn’t.”
The chill turned to full-on ice.
“Really? And what was that?”
He leaned in close, so close that his lips brushed my ear. “Desperation.”
I slapped him before I could stop myself, and I would’ve knocked his teeth out too, if he hadn’t swung me around and slammed me backward onto his desk. Blunt pain radiated through my head as I tried to gather my thoughts.
“Now, now,” he chided. “I like a girl with fight in her, but there’s a time and a place.”
“Get your filthy hands off me!”
“So demanding. You need to learn to negotiate, Arizona. When somebody else holds all the cards, there has to be a little give and take.”
“Let me guess—I give, and you take.”
“Coulson was right. You are a smart girl.”
Morty Coulson had been my old boss, right until his forty-a-day habit caught up with him. He’d wheezed his denial for years, and by the time I finally convinced him to see a doctor, it was too late. Coulson Investigations was no more, and I’d been forced to take a new job. Twilight was the second biggest investigations agency in Las Vegas, with a fancy office building downtown and a client list that included half of the big casinos. But the glossy brochures and slick sales patter hid a culture of filth.
Why hadn’t I quit? Because jobs for a twenty-seven-year-old recently qualified private investigator with an eight-year-old daughter weren’t easy to come by, especially when that investigator had breasts. And I had rent to pay. Out of the two job offers I’d received, only Jankowski paid enough to cover the bills.
And it wasn’t just the cash; it was the reputation. People aspired to work here. Mostly men, I realised that now. Jankowski had probably hired me because he was running out of secretaries to molest.
But I refused to be his next piece of ass. If I let him take advantage of me now, the sleaziness would never stop, and no job was worth sacrificing my dignity over. Even scrubbing the private rooms at Sin City’s seediest strip joint would be a better option.
So when he tried to unbutton my shirt, I gave him one last chance.
“Stop.”
“Make me, sweetheart.”
His eyes bulged when my knee connected with his groin, and he let out a satisfying oof.
“Coulson also taught me how to defend myself, pervert.”
“You… You’re…”
“And don’t bother to fire me because I quit.”
Jankowski collapsed to the floor, alternately groaning and spewing curses as I scrabbled around for the purse I’d dropped when he grabbed me.
“You stupid little bitch! You’ll never work in this town again, you hear me? Never!”
“And you’ll never father children.”
I marched out with my head held high as he retched behind me, and it wasn’t until I reached the sidewalk outside that the reality of what had just happened hit me. And the horror. I had six hundred dollars in the bank, I’d lost my job, and I’d alienated one of the most powerful men in Las Vegas.
Fuck.
Zach – the meet not-so-cute…
The woman didn’t resist, her arms and legs limp, her eyes closed. Zach paused and counted to ten, watching for signs of breathing. Nothing. He gave two rescue breaths, vaguely aware of Tyler riding the rip current and arriving beside him as Kai heaved the second victim out of the water. Did Zach’s girl have a pulse? Her hands were cold, her lips almost blue, but he detected a faint flutter.
Thank the gods above.
The vice around his chest unwound a notch as he breathed for her again, and then she spluttered, coughed, and puked all over herself. Zach turned her onto her side so she wouldn’t choke on her vomit, then hauled her farther onto the board. She lay there, panting for a moment before her eyelids flickered open, revealing wide eyes the colour of the Caribbean Sea framed by thick lashes.
“What the hell were you doing out there?”
His fear at almost seeing a woman drown came out as anger, something he wasn’t proud of, but it wasn’t the first time his temper had made an uninvited appearance.
“I…I…”
How was the second victim? Yet another wave of horror crashed through Zach when he realised it was a kid. A little girl. Kai had her up on Tyler’s board, giving not only rescue breaths but CPR too, as Tyler kicked like a demon, pushing them toward the shore. Had someone called 911? Zach scanned the shoreline and saw the girls had followed Tyler over. Khloe was filming the rescue while Stacey and Alys just stared.
“Call an ambulance,” he yelled.
“Huh?” Khloe seemed more puzzled than anything else.
“Call a fucking ambulance, you idiot!”
Alys came to life and pulled out her phone, and Zach had to trust she’d do the right thing. He still had a problem of his own to deal with. Was the blonde the kid’s mother? He scanned the beach, but the only people watching were the three girls, the other surfers now helping Kai and Tyler to carry the kid out of the water, and a man with a dog.
The blonde groaned, and the sight of the lifeless child did nothing to quell Zach’s annoyance. Sure, he took risks every day, some people even said they were stupid risks, but he never took his own flesh and blood swimming in a rip current.
“Hold the rails,” Zach ordered.
“The…what?”
“The edges of the board.”
Another cough. “Is…is she okay?”
“No, she’s not okay. Don’t you know anything about water safety?”
The blonde shook her head. “I c-c-can’t even swim.”
“Then why the fuck was your kid in the ocean?”
More screaming, this time from the shore. A brunette was running from the sand dunes, waving her arms, shouting at Kai and Tyler.
“What did you do to her? What did you do to my baby?” she yelled.
Her baby? Wait, this was the kid’s mom? Then who was the blonde? A friend?
“She’s not—” the blonde started, then shrieked as a wave rocked the board.
“Just hold on until we reach the shore. Nobody has time to rescue you again.”
On shore, the brunette began thumping Kai on the back, still yelling, something about him being a paedophile and a child molester. Tyler tried arguing, and when she still wouldn’t shut up, Stacey whacked her on the head with an oversized purse. Well, that was one way to handle it.
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