The Dark Side Of Night

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  • Format: Paperback
  • Copyright: 2008-04-01
  • Publisher: Harlequin
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Kinsey Hollingsworth's tropical-getaway plans didn't include dodging gunshots. Or a speedboat chase with Mitch Perovski, the tall and tempting spy who'd commandeered her boat. But the socialite would handle anything Mitch demanded--whether it meant going undercover or under the covers.Mitch didn't work with partners. And although Kinsey proved she was more than a pampered heiress, she was no match for the assassin targeting them...or for Mitch's smoldering desire. He had to get through this one high-stakes task with her. But after a night in Kinsey's arms, could he walk away from their partnership for good?


Smoking gun in hand, Mitch Perovski crouched over the crumpled form of the dead man and swore. One by one, droplets of blood plopped onto the boat's deck in the charged silence. Glancing furtively around him for watching eyes, he crouched even lower and pulled out his cell phone."Go ahead," a male voice said at the other end."Lancer here," he muttered. "I've got a problem. My Plan B is dead, I'm caught out in the open at a damned marina, and I've got two, possibly three, gunmen on my tail. I need you guys to pull a rabbit out of your hats and get me the hell out of here.""We've got you on the satellite map in a marina near the south end of Tortola. The boss man says to stay put for a minute if you can. Meanwhile, say your status."For a moment, Mitch allowed himself to register the daggers of pain shooting from his left shoulder. Bad idea. He gritted his teeth, forced the agony back into a mental drawer, and slammed it shut. No time for that, yet. "I'm shot," he ground out. "My left shoulder. I think the bullet passed through but I haven't had time to stop and take a look. I'm low on ammo and way exposed on this freaking dock.""Are you bleeding?" the combat controller asked sharply."Hell, yes, I'm bleeding. I just took a bullet.""Apply pressure to the entrance and exit wounds with a clean pad, and hold it until the bleeding stops.""Gee, thanks, Doctor Kildaire. I had no idea what to do," Mitch retorted dryly. All the guys in the H.O.T. Watch were qualified EMTs."Standard procedure to brief operatives on proper first aid when a wound is reported," the controller replied, equally as dry. "That way when you die, your family can't sue us over your sorry ass."Mitch snorted. He hadn't spoken to any member of the Perovski clan in close to ten years and didn't plan on doing so for at least another ten. The seconds ticked by at half speed while he scanned the area for signs of his pursuers. They weren't showing themselves at the moment, but he didn't doubt for an instant that they were out there, waiting. Seconds turned into minutes, and he wondered how much longer his pursuers would sit tight. Eventually, they would run out of patience and come after him. He was dead meat if they caught him out here like this.A new, deeper voice finally came on the line. "Lancer, this is White Horse." His temporary boss.Navy Commander Brady Hathaway. "I've got a Plan C for you. About a half mile down the beach, Congressman Dick Hollingsworth has a vacation home. He has a fast boat, and I just got off the horn with him. He's given you permission to use it. The spare ignition key is taped to the back of a painting of a clipper ship in the below-deck cabin. You'll have to break into the cabin, though. I told him we'll repair any damage you do to the door."A half mile? Damn, that sounded like a long way right now. "What does the boat look like?" Mitch bit out."It's a thirty-eight foot cigarette. And--" was that a wince he heard in Lancer's voice? His boss continued"--it's pink. Named Baby Doll. But it goes like a bat outta hell, apparently.""It had better," Mitch growled. "If I die in a pink boat, I'm going to haunt you. And I won't be a nice ghost."White Horse laughed shortly. "Call us when you're safe. And take care of that shoulder when you get a chance.""Will do." Mitch tucked the cell phone in his pocket and briefly considered swimming for the pink boat. But his shoulder was throbbing like hell, and the idea of adding the burn of salt in the wound was more than even his pain tolerance would stand. He eased down the dock, staying low. If his luck held, he could sneak into that fringe of palmettos and bushes up the beach, and then make his way to the pink Plan C.If his luck held.Just another lousy day in paradise. Kinsey sighed and sat up. She'd spent the entire afternoon napping on the cigarette boat's sleek hull, which rocked gently beneath her as the waves rolled in.

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