The Domino Effect

by Julie Elizabeth Leto

• ISBN13: 9780373792764
• ISBN10: 037379276X
• Format: Paperback
• Copyright: 2006-08-01
• Publisher: Harlequin

Summary

Domino Black, professional assassin

I've killed too many to count.

All in the name of United States security.

I don't care. I don't feel -- I just do what I'm told. My latest assignment was different.

I had to go undercover. Try to find ou

Excerpts

WITH A QUIET CLICK, Luke Brasco shut the door to the security room three floors above Club Cicero, Chic-ago's hottest night spot west of the famed Magnificent Mile. Mikey Maldonado, Luke's chief bouncer, swiveled from the bank of monitors he'd been watching and gave his boss a toothy grin."What's up, boss?"Luke's gaze darted to the central screen. She was there. Dead center on the dance floor, commanding a tight and controlled space that no other man or woman dared invade. He'd noticed her seconds after she'd entered the club twenty minutes ago and, despite his best efforts, had been watching her exclusively ever since. Five minutes in, she'd eased by him at the bar, sparing him no more than a cursory glance. But her blue eyes -- faceted and hypnotic -- had yanked him instantly into her universe.At first, he'd come upstairs to escape her allure. Now, he had different ideas.Luke cleared his throat. "We've got a rowdy crowd out front," Luke explained.Tucked under Michigan Avenue and Grand, only a block from the famed Billy Goat Tavern, the gangster-themed nightclub, named for the area of Chicago where Capone made his fortune, was the ultimate speakeasy fantasy. Club Cicero brought in a range of customers from international businessmen wanting a taste of old Chicago to hip, urban partiers looking for a reason to wear fedoras and glittery, bugle-beaded dresses. Not that everyone dipped into roaring twenties fashion trunks before hitting the line that snaked around the building, but those that did created an atmosphere that made Club Cicero the place to be, and thus earned them a better chance at getting in.His mystery woman hadn't needed a gimmick to cut to the front of the line. Her looks reflected an exotic background -- almond-shaped eyes, olive skin, generous lips. She was neither petite nor tall -- but she was anything but average. In skintight, hip-hugging charcoal jeans, a filmy black, stomach-baring tank top, a cropped leather jacket and impossibly high-heeled boots, she was every bit the woman he'd cook up in his fantasies when his bed seemed particularly cold or empty. And yet, Luke couldn't shake the feeling that, like the women in flapper hats and fishnet stockings, she was playing dress-up.Just for him. "Why don't you go down and give Craig a hand at the door?" Luke suggested. "I'll watch the cameras."Mikey arched a brow, but pushed away from the desk nonetheless. Luke had made an odd request, but he was the boss and no one, with the exception of his stepmother, ever questioned his authority. He'd been running a bar in this location for nearly ten years now and no matter what the name or theme, he rarely took over for his surveillance guys unless someone had called in sick.But not tonight. At this moment, he wanted to be alone to keep an eye on the five-foot-seven-inch package of pure living and breathing feminine power that had squeezed through the crowd near the bar. She'd tantalized him with a bold, spicy scent that somehow overpowered the hot sweat and free-flowing alcohol sizzling through the club. He'd been a bar owner for so long, he'd thought himself immune to such blatant sexuality. Hehadbeen immune.Until her.He realized then that Mikey had left and closed the door behind him, leaving Luke alone in the cramped surveillance room. He'd added the high-tech gadgetry two years ago after a local police investigation revealed that drugs were being sold in his club, patron to patron. At the time, he'd thought the Brasco family curse had once again caught up with him, that like his mafia-connected (and murdered) grandfather, his no-good, deadbeat absentee father and his convict half brother, he'd be doomed to failure. He'd called in every financial favor he'd ever had to buy the cameras and digital recording devices to keep away the riffraff. And he'd upped the cover charge to not only recoup his losses, but to demand a higher class of clientele. So far, his strategy had kept cr