Being a spy isn’t for the faint at heart—especially for the brute American and the beautiful, cunning Brit…
Who am I? I’m Cole Carson and I’m the best at what I do.
Four years ago, the CIA forced me to babysit the young MI6 princess, Isabella Donnelly. Beneath my paygrade and skillset, but I like to think I taught her everything she knows—because I’m just that good.
Turns out, there’s a first time for everything because I was wrong about her. She pissed me off and challenged me in ways no one had before. I not only ate my words, I choked those suckers down with a bottle of whiskey when someone ripped her away from me.
Now she’s back and no one can know she’s here. And by no one, I mean all of the western world.
I’m determined to clear her name and make her mine.
It’s a tall order so it’s a damn good thing I’m me.
Okay, fine. It wasn’t a dare. More like a wager, laid at my feet by none other than Cole Carson. It’s all semantics at this point—I’m stuck between the threat of prison and my arsehole American, whom I just can’t shake.
Trust me, I’ve tried.
I have no one to blame but my stupid, stupid heart.
I’m no princess and certainly don’t need a prince charming. I can kick arse all on my own—it’s what I came here to do. Taking a bullet was not on my agenda … neither was waking up in the hospital with Cole glaring at me.
But I’m here and I’m nothing if not determined.
But that dare…
I can’t focus on that until I clear my name. If Cole wants to tag along, so be it.
I am a Donnelly. We don’t give up nor do we bow down … to anyone.