Over the Edge. Jeanie London

      

      Over The Edge

      Jeanie London

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      JEANIE LONDON has always loved to read and write. School years were spent sneaking romance novels into school when she should have been learning algebra and biology. College years were spent taking electives such as journalism and creative writing classes when she should have been taking algebra and biology.

      Nowadays, she’s still reading and writing. She writes romances because she believes in happily-ever-afters. Not the “love conquers all” kind, but the “two people love each other, so they can conquer anything” kind. The commitment and monogamy of romance are strong values she’s passing along to her daughters, who’ll search for their own heroes someday.

      MILLS & BOON

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      For my very dear friend Judith Pich. This one is significant. It’s number six, which means I’m—gasp!—real.

      Table of Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

       Acknowledgments

       Prologue

       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

       Epilogue

       Copyright

      Special thanks to Cyber-Aunt Karen, DianaP, Andee, Queen April, Cheryl the Angel, Marcy, Nammy, Esjai, Krazkim55, MeriG, Latesha, Jerry, Riza, Aurelene, JenO, Audrey, Dee and all the visitors to my message board at millsandboon.co.uk. Your professional expertise, creative input and love of happily-ever-after inspired the Princess of Paperback while she wrote this story.

       Prologue

      The kiss—ten years ago

      THE WOMAN moved as if she were making love, slim curves gathering and unfolding in a sinuous display as she descended a rope using nothing more than the strength of her upper body to lower her, long sleek legs to anchor her. She wore all black, from the top of her ski-mask-covered head to the tips of her soft-soled boots.

      Jake Trinity stopped short in the doorway leading from the offices to the warehouse, the two sides of his brain colliding at the impossibility of the sight. One side absorbed her smooth descent as she shimmied down and dropped to her feet without a sound, her body absorbing the impact with an effortless motion that brought to mind a cat landing on all fours.

      This had to be the testosterone-filled half of his brain. The more rational half observed that she’d landed neatly out of reach of the infrared sensor beams zigzagging across the opening of the warehouse doors.

      No one should have been in the building.

      The night watchman who’d let him in earlier must have gone to sleep on the job because Innovative Engineering had a state-of-the-art security system, barbed-wire fences and steel-reinforced doors and windows to avoid exactly this occurrence.

      Jake knew this for certain. For the past two years he’d been conducting his internship with Innovative, the largest electrical engineering firm on the eastern seaboard. He’d made it his business to learn everything about the company he was establishing a career with while earning his degrees.

      He’d only stopped by this late on a Saturday night to retrieve some account data so he could continue work on a project for his newest boss, the company president.

      He remembered his father’s parting words as he’d left home earlier. College students should spend their weekends dating, playing golf and watching football games, in that order.

      Had Jake put any stock in his father’s opinion, he wouldn’t be standing inside a building watching a burglary in progress.

      Not that this particular thief would present much of a problem. She wouldn’t, but Jake didn’t believe for one second that this woman was alone. No way.

      He stood shadowed in the doorway as she raised her hand to punch numbers onto a keypad, presumably to disable the beam sensor. He searched for any identifying features