Black Ice - Anne Stuart
All that wine had gone to her head—in another moment she’d start imagining she was in some kind of danger. What could possibly be dangerous about a group of high-level grocers? Too much wine, too much imagination. Chloe backed out of the room, only to come up against a solid human form. She bit back a scream as a heavy hand clamped on her arm, spinning her around.
It was M. Hakim. Her relief was palpable—she actually started babbling. “Thank heavens!” she said. “I’ve gotten all turned around an ...