Spotlight, Excerpt & Giveaway with Joan Swan from Intimate Enemies

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Intimate Enemies


by


Joan Swan

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 Amazon | B & N | Smashwords

She is on a quest for answers; answers that could just get her killed.

Six months after the mysterious yacht explosion that killed Cassie Christo’s mother and stepbrother, authorities still have no answers to the cause. Searching for closure, Cassie returns to her childhood home on the Pacific Coast of Baja, Mexico, where she launches her own investigation into the accident.  She never expected to find an adversary in the man who had once touched her heart with kindness in her darkest moment.

Rio’s been fantasizing about reconnecting with Cassie for months. But not here and sure as hell not now. As an undercover agent with U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, he’s working the biggest sting operation in all of northern Mexico, and he definitely doesn’t have time for the wild attraction he feels for Cassie.

Not only is his cover on the line, so is his heart. Because as the end of a yearlong operation draws closer, Rio knows if he tells Cassie the truth about who and what he is, it won’t only jeopardize his mission, it may result in him losing her forever. And if he doesn’t, his lies and deception could get them both killed.

Special Excerpt from Intimate Enemies:

God, she looked sweet, curled so tight, bare feet crossed, painted toe nails bright against her skin. With her knees pulled to her chest, the pretty little skirt barely covered her ass and those long legs angled across the shimmering bedspread, bronzed and toned.

His chest continued to constrict. He wanted her like nothing he’d ever wanted before. Wanted to touch her, love her, have her. But he also wanted her to want him back the same way—without reservation—and he knew, given the circumstances, that wasn’t possible. Considering all the lies he’d told her, he didn’t know if it would ever be possible. But, by God, he was going to do everything within his power to make it happen.

He was memorizing the hypnotic sight of her dark hair spread out across the pillow behind her when she stirred. Her toes curled first, followed by the slow flex of her legs into a tighter ball that shortened her skirt even more and sent a lava flow of heat to his groin. She stretched out both her arms, then relaxed her whole body into the bed again.

Her lashes drifted open. When she saw him, they flew wide, and she startled.

“Just me, princess.” Rio sat forward, wishing he could reach for her, pull her into his arms, but knew there were too many conflicts between them. “Just me.”

Recognition chased the fear from her eyes. She let her body slump back to the bed and buried her face in her pillow on a groan. “Jesus Christ.”

He stood, reached down to run a hand over her back but pulled it away before he’d touched her. Then reached out again, laying his palm on her shoulder. When she didn’t shrink from his touch, he said, “I didn’t want to wake you.”

And, God, he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t keep his hand from sliding over her shoulder blade, down her spine. Her body was warm and strong. He ached to have her wrapped around him as she’d been last night. Craved it.

“What are you doing in here?” She turned her head, shook the hair from her face, and looked up at him. Her voice was soft, her eyes luminous and hopeful. And the want he saw there was surely his wicked imagination. “Is something wrong?”

He forced a dull laugh. “That’s a strange question considering our day…”

She pushed herself upright, her legs still tucked under her. “Why are you here?”

“I just…” He let out a breath, ran his hand over the top of her head and down the silky expanse of her hair. The feel of it relieved some pain. “Wanted to be close to you.”

On the next pass of his hand over her hair, she caught his wrist and pulled his hand first to her cheek, where she leaned into it, then turned her head and brought it to her mouth, and laid her lips on his open palm.

Rio’s heart raced. His ribs felt like they were about to cave under the pressure of pure joy.

I love you. The words were right there. Filling his heart. Swirling in his head. Dancing on his tongue. Believe in me.

A tremor slide over her. “I’m cold.”

“I’ll close the—” He started to turn as he spoke, but she pulled on his arm.

“I’m cold on the inside.” She sat up straighter, added her other hand to his arm, and pulled him toward her. “Come lie with me.”

His heart, his body rejoiced with a resounding yes, but his mind resisted, though he couldn’t say he put much effort into pulling from her grip. “I was walking on the beach.” His balance tipped, and he dropped one knee on the bed. “My jeans are wet, my feet are sandy—”

“I keep seeing them,” she said, her gaze lowered to his chest, her hands insistent. “I’ve seen so much worse in the emergency room, but that…” Her gaze lifted to his. “I feel…numb.”

He knew what she meant. She meant a part of her felt dead, the way a part of him felt every time he witnessed a murder or found a victim. And he knew what she wanted. She wanted to feel alive again. She wanted him to make her feel alive. And, God, how he longed to.

He’d been here before, but when he’d looked for validation of life in the past with others, it had always been physical. This was also emotional, and his need to bond with her on that level scared him in a way no gun pointed at his head ever could.

She rolled to her knees and used his arm as leverage to slide forward. Those expressive gold eyes met his with purpose and determination.

One more day, he told himself. Twenty-four more hours. Maybe a little longer. He could wait. He had to wait. Making love to her again, now, with all the lies between them… Damn, there was so much at risk.

“We…” he started, “should probably talk.”

            A flash of disappointment slipped through her eyes before she lowered them. First to his mouth. Then to his throat. She lifted her hand to the open collar of his shirt and covered the vulnerable area with her palm, her long fingers extended gently along his neck. Warmth melted into his skin.

“I don’t want anything to happen to you,” she whispered, caressing up and down the length of his throat with the backs of her fingers. Then leaned in and followed the motion with her mouth.

Rio brought his hands up to cup her head. Oh, man, her mouth turned his skin to liquid fire. His heart thumped hard, a little too fast. His dick took a sudden rush of blood and swelled painfully.

He tried not to give in to the pressure of her kisses and tilt his head, but that didn’t help his brain work any better. “You’re the one—”

Her tongue slipped up the side of his neck, to the base of his ear, and Rio shivered. Then she took his lobe gently between her teeth, and Rio’s fingers fisted in her hair.

“Goddamn,” he breathed. “You make me crazy.”

But he’d spoken too soon. Her fingers found the hem of his shirt, then his skin beneath as she pushed the fabric up his abdomen.

“Promise me something,” she whispered in his ear.

He laughed, slid his palm over the perfectly feather-soft skin at the nape of her neck and his fingers into the baby-fine hair at her hairline. “You know I’d promise you just about anything right now.”

“When whatever you’re doing with Saul is over, you’ll get out.”

He pulled back. This he could promise without reservation. While his emotional involvement with Alejandra and Santos had crossed the professional line for an undercover, it hadn’t gotten them killed. Even a sexual attraction to Cassie would have been normal, though not condoned. It was his love for Cassie that told Rio his undercover days were over. And in many ways, that was a deep relief.

“Yes.” He kissed her gently. “I can promise you that.”

“And promise me,” she said, “that if you need help, you’ll ask me.”

A slow smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “That”—he drew out the word, gripped her waist, and pulled her against him, belly to belly—“might be a little harder.”

Her chin dipped. “Rio.”

“Okay.” He grinned. “For you, yes, I will ask if I need help.”

One hand slipped out from under his shirt, her fingers moving to the top button to flick it open while the fingers of the other hand brushed over his nipple, tightening the skin across his chest with mini shocks of pleasure.

“I know you’re a good man. You try to deny it here.” She pressed her fingers against his lips. “But you show it here.” She parted his shirt and pressed her palm against his heart, and he swore he could feel it hammer against his ribs. “But I’ve gotten good at reading people from my work. Which is how I know you’re lying to me about…several things.”

God, he didn’t want to go back into the cop thing again. “Not about wanting to keep you safe.”

Her fingers released another shirt button. And another. “No, I don’t doubt that.”

“Then why don’t you let me take you back to San Diego? I’ll manage the clinic for you. I promise to do it exactly the way you want it.”

Her other hand slid out from underneath his shirt, and she clasped his face between her palms. “I’ll go if you go with me.”

His heart pounded hard. He threaded his fingers at the base of her spine to keep them from wandering lower. “I will. I’ll go back with you, get you all settled, then—”

“Stay.”

His breath caught.

“Stay in San Diego with me.” Her fingers slid into his hair, nails scraping his scalp and making him feel as heady as if he had a bottle of wine in his bloodstream. “We’ll find you work doing whatever you want. I don’t care what.”

He couldn’t speak. Her expression filled with so much sincerity, so much love. But he didn’t dare hope. “Cassie—”

“If…if you…you know”—she looked away—“want to come back here, you can just wait until I get Saul out of the house. I’m going to need a caretaker for the estate and…” She shrugged one shoulder, lifted her gaze back to his with a vulnerability that drilled into his heart and took hold. “I’d love to know you’re here, taking care of it.”

            Emotion geysered up from deep inside him. So deep he hadn’t seen it lurking. The sensations and feelings ambushed him all at once, a blitz attack that overwhelmed and shattered every barrier.

Joan Swan Bio

I was never a star English student or a Literature buff, but I’ve

 always had a creative soul and an active imagination. Writing 

was a natural culmination of those two talents.

I write what I like to read: romantic

 suspense. I write for entertainment 

and escape–the same reasons I love to

 read. I prefer real-life language, so 

you’ll find profanity in my work when

 it fits the character. I prefer open-door

 sex, so my love scenes are typically hot 

and steamy. And because my stories 

involve suspense, you’ll often find violence, mystery and an inside

 look at the intricate world of forensics. Occasionally, I like to 

dabble in the lighter side of paranormal as well.

I am agented by the fabulous Paige Wheeler, founding partner of 

Folio Literary Management in New York. My debut novel, FEVER, 

releases from Kensington Brava in April 2012. Book 2 in the 

series, BLAZE, releases fall 2012. My editor at Kensington is the 

wonderful Alicia Condon, Editorial Director for Brava.

A triple RWA Golden Heart finalist as well as a double Daphne Du

 Maurier finalist, I am a lover of craft and closet-hoarder of 

writing craft how-to books.

In my day job, I work as a sonographer at UCSF Medical Center,

 a location with an intensity that makes me slightly insane…which

 works well with the writer in me. Not to mention all the 

character material I have access to–and I’m not talking about the

 patients (well…mostly).

I have been married twenty years to my own personal hero, a

 veteran firefighter, we have two beautiful daughters and are 

blessed to live in the heart of wine country on the gorgeous

 Central Coast of California.

To keep up with Joan's latest news, please visit her online:

Website / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads

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