Diagnosis: Attraction. Rebecca York

Diagnosis: Attraction - Rebecca York


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       “Do you know why those men are after you?”

      “I’m still not sure.”

      “We’ll figure it out.”

      He clasped her to him, holding her in place, and she was content to lie on top of him, still marveling at the way they had traveled together to an undiscovered country.

      “This is what we were meant for,” he murmured, absolute conviction in his voice.

      She understood what he was saying.

       Always incomplete.

       Until now.

      “Why did it happen?” she asked.

      “We have to find out,” he said as he stroked her arm.

      She gave a short laugh. “You’re saying we can’t just enjoy it.”

      “Is that what you want to do?”

      She considered the question. “No. I want to understand. And of course, we still have to figure out why those men want to question me—then kill me.”

      Diagnosis: Attraction

      Rebecca York

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Award-winning, USA TODAY bestselling novelist Ruth Glick, who writes as REBECCA YORK, is the author of more than one hundred books, including her popular 43 Light Street series for the Mills & Boon® Intrigue line. Ruth says she has the best job in the world. Not only does she get paid for telling stories, she’s also an author of twelve cookbooks. Ruth and her husband, Norman, travel frequently, researching locales for her novels and searching out new dishes for her cookbooks.

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      Contents

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Chapter Twenty-One

       EXTRACT

      Chapter One

      Panic choked off Elizabeth Forester’s breath as she turned the car onto Mulberry Street, the wheels screeching when she took the corner too fast. The maneuver didn’t shake the car that was following her. She was pretty sure she had picked up the tail after she had left the motel where she’d been hiding out—using a car she thought nobody would recognize. She made a snorting sound. Apparently her precautions hadn’t been enough.

      For the past week, she’d been acting like she was in the middle of a TV cop show. But she’d decided the evasive action was necessary. Today it looked like she’d been absolutely right to try to cover her tracks.

      It had gradually dawned on her that a dark-blue Camaro was appearing in her rearview mirror on a regular basis—following her during the day—and that the ever-present car must be connected to the case she was working on. Something too big for her to handle?

      She hadn’t started off understanding how big it really was. But a lot of little details had led her to the conclusion that she needed to protect herself by checking into the motel a few miles from her house and taking alternate routes to work.

      She glanced again in the rearview mirror. The blue car was inching up, and she could see two tough-looking men in the front seat. She shuddered, imagining what they were going to do if they got their hands on her.

      She’d almost decided to go to the police with what she knew at this point, until she’d concluded that the plan was dangerous. It was terrible when you couldn’t trust the authorities, but she had to assume that they were protecting the man who’d sent the thugs to intercept her.

      As her work took her all over Baltimore, she had an excellent knowledge of the city. If she could get far enough ahead of the men tailing her, she could turn into the nest of alleys up ahead and disappear. And then what? For now the prime objective was to get away.

      She made another quick turn into an alley, slowing her Honda in case a kid came darting out from one of the fenced-in backyards.

      Glancing behind her, she breathed out a little sigh. She was in the clear. In the next moment, she realized her mistake as she saw the Camaro whip around the corner also. Damn.

      Still on the lookout for pedestrians, she sped up again, turning


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