Absolute Pleasure

Absolute Pleasure
Jamie Denton

FBI agent Sunny MacGregor is a whiz at solving puzzles. She's also ambitious.So when an unusual case comes along, she's ready to jump in. What she's not ready for is Duncan Chamberlain. The hot insurance recovery agent offers his help in finding the suspect, except she isn't sure she wants it. Her body, though, is more than anxious to get close to him….For months the Seducer, a con man who seduces women out of their jewelry–and their clothes!–has been on the loose, and Duncan wants to stop him. Hooking up with Sunny seems harmless at the time and an easy way to get back his clients' property. But the more time he and Sunny spend together, the more he thinks about sex…and whether she's willing to jeopardize all she's worked for just for a few nights of absolute pleasure…!

“What we do after hours is our business,”

Duncan said, slipping his fingers beneath the hem of her shorts.

His lazy smile widened when he ran his finger along the inside of her thigh. Sunny shifted, easing her legs slightly apart. He took her hands and placed them behind her, narrowing the space between them. Holding her immobile, he dipped his head and kissed her.

This was what she would be giving up, and she wasn’t sure she had the strength. Was she really willing to risk everything she’d worked for just for a few nights of what promised to be unbelievably memorable sex?

She tore her mouth from his. “Duncan, what if we get caught?”

He lifted his head to look at her. Desire burned in his gray eyes. Oh hell, the way he was looking at her, she decided she didn’t care about tomorrow. No way was she letting this man out of her sight until they finished what he’d started.

“Forget I said anything….”

Dear Reader,

When FBI agent Sunny MacGregor first appeared in my RITA

Award-nominated Blaze novel, Seduced by the Enemy (#41, June 2002), I was unprepared for the impact she would have on my life. Not only did she demand her own story, she also made it clear from the beginning nothing less than perfection would do for her hero. Despite all who’d applied, in the end only one proved himself worthy of Sunny—Duncan Chamberlain, a hotshot insurance recovery expert who knows the meaning of absolute pleasure.

The writing of Absolute Pleasure was a nonstop thrill ride for me, but not without a few bumps in the road. If a writer is lucky, she’ll have a few special people in her corner to help navigate the roadblocks. Thankfully, I am extremely fortunate in that regard. Not only did my very wise husband keep a steady supply of dark chocolate on hand, but without the constant encouragement and unwavering support of my editor, I never would have had the courage to write this very special story.

I hope you enjoy Sunny and Duncan’s romance, and I’d love to hear your thoughts. Please write to me at P.O. Box 224, Mohall, ND 58761, or via e-mail at jamie@jamiedenton.net, or visit my Web site at www.jamiedenton.net.

As ever,

Jamie Denton

Absolute Pleasure

Jamie Denton

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

This book can only

be dedicated to Phyllis,

for reasons she will understand.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

1

“HEY, MAC!” Agent Caruso called from the back of the white surveillance van. “I gotta know, exactly how hard-up does a woman have to be to pay a half-a-mil to get laid?”

Special Agent Sunny MacGregor surprised herself by seriously considering Agent Jack Caruso’s question as she left her car and walked toward the pair of agents assigned to the Seducer’s last known crime scene. Although she wouldn’t exactly place herself in the same category as the victim she’d come to interview, she had been stretching the limit on abstinence since she couldn’t immediately recall the last time she’d invited some guy to join her under the covers. Still, that didn’t mean she’d ever be desperate enough to actually pay someone to have sex with her. At least she hoped not.

“I’m here to work the case,” she told Caruso when she reached the open doors at the back of the van. “Not judge the victim.” She did have an opinion on the subject, but one best not divulged to a pair of field agents assigned watch-dog duty outside the arched wrought-iron gates of the Wilder estate.

Caruso’s rookie-agent partner, Walt Weidman, climbed out of the van. “I need to see your ID, Mac.”

“For the love of Pete, Weidman,” Caruso complained. “This is her freakin’ crime scene.”

Weidman ignored Caruso. “Sorry, Mac,” he said apologetically. “Rules, you know.”

She slipped the black leather ID holder from the pocket of her navy linen blazer and handed it to Weidman. “Don’t let Jack get to you,” she told the rookie. “He’s always a pain in the ass until he’s downed a couple of thermoses full of that ink he calls coffee.”

“Yeah, and then he’s just a wired pain in the ass.”