She gave him what he paid for but now she’s the one paying the price…

Annabel “Poe” Lee is about to make a big change in her life. That means telling her recent fling, Patrick Coffey, that it’s over. In theory, it’s an easy task. In reality, Patrick’s the best lover she’s ever had, so saying goodbye is tougher than she’d thought. But it’s time to move on, and falling for Patrick isn’t in her very detailed plans for the future.

When Annabel tells Patrick she can’t see him anymore, he’s not particularly thrilled. He may not be ready for anything more than sex either, but his sixth sense is telling him his kidnapper is no longer in the Caribbean and Annabel may very well be a target. Since she’s letting him stick around for a few more weeks, his priority is keeping her safe. Then he’ll show her why she’s worth more to him than any fortune could ever be.

“INDISCREET by Alison Kent will knock your socks off!” – RT Book Reviews, 4.5 Stars, TOP PICK

Patrick cut off the engine, turned to her and grinned the biggest, baddest grin she’d ever seen spread over his face. The silver hoop in his ear twinkled, as did his eyes when he pulled his sunshades from his gorgeous face. But it was his expression of boyish delight that was her undoing. This is what he’d looked like before something—or someone—had robbed him of his innocence, Annabel thought dazedly.

She drew in a breath that took far too much effort and gestured toward his car. “What is this?”

“My car.” He climbed out and slammed the heavy door against the equally heavy frame. “Don’t make ‘em like this anymore.”

“Thank God for that,” she said, recognizing, as she did, that no other car would fit him. They shared a definite bring-it-on attitude. “You’ve had this in storage all this time?”

He shook his head, ran his palm lovingly across the bright red roof. “Bought it this morning. Got tired of hitching in your cat there.”

She ground her jaw until her molars ached. “You just went out on the spur of the moment and bought a classic El Camino.”

“Totally restored. A beaut, isn’t she?”

A smile pulled at her pursed lips. “And I’m sure you’ve given her a name?”

That devil’s grin again. “I was thinking of calling her Annie. She’s sleek, sexy—” he waggled his brows “—and hot under the hood.”

Oh, but he was cute. She folded her arms and strove to look stern. “Where did you get the money?”

“Same place I got the money to buy you, sister.”

Hel-lo. “I would like to know.” Patrick made no effort at finding work, yet never lacked for obscene amounts of cash.

His grin vanished, replaced by a slow growing yet visible wariness. “Why?”

“Fine.” She turned back to the task of unlocking her car door. His suspicion shouldn’t have hurt. She hated that it hurt. “Don’t answer me. God forbid I know anything personal about the man who’s fucking me.”

Two more weeks, no, less than that. Ten more days and he would be out of her life. She could easily replace him in her bed . . . she needed him for nothing.

Nothing, she insisted, infuriated at the sudden sting of tears that swore otherwise.