The Raven Who Caught The Canary
August 25th, 2017
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Revolutionary and pirate, Luther Corvino, seeks revenge for a lifetime of hell. The German general responsible is the same one building a tunnel to Britain. Kill the man; blow up the tunnel. These tasks should be easy compared to the fights Luther has faced —until he runs into the one woman he’s never forgotten. Too bad she’d rather turn him in than play kiss and make up.
Eva Canari has never forgiven Luther for abandoning her in France. Caught for spying, she’s been recruited by the Germans as a consort and agent. She’ll do anything to get her nightclub, La Roux, back in her possession, even selling out her ex. Trouble is, she’s having a hard time betraying him when his touches are sweet heaven, and his charm the devil’s own.
Can Luther and Eva rekindle their love, or are they ensnared by a game they may never win?
Sitting down at the piano, she started in on a Gershwin tune, hoping to chase her blues away. Instead, the room shook briefly, and a breakfast plate rattled on the small table to her left. A glass fell to the floor due to the force of a blast far too close.
She launched off the bench, pulling her robe tight around her as she ran out the front door. Not even sixty meters away, the car Karl used to drive into the camp sat burning. Flames licked the air like whips seeking purchase from an invisible source, and she could make out the shape of Karl’s body being consumed by the fire. She’d expected screams, cries for help, some reaction, but the soldier remained still.
She watched the fire burn, the tires melt into liquid, and the steel cage sink toward the ground. Only then did the shouts of men and the rumble of another car engine cut through her concentrated focus.
A man in a cap, with a gigantic frame blocking out the sun, asked about her health, her state of being. She nodded absently at him, then the soldier turned away and shouted orders. Those included searching the house. The fog cleared immediately. No one needed to touch her things, especially her clothes or her writing materials. Damn it.
“There’s no need to search anything.”
“Frau Sonne, someone attacked the Jeep and this man. He may be hiding in the house. Or possibly you’ve got some contraband they want.” The soldier shuffled off, leaving her in the drive. The stupid fools didn’t care about anything except their own crazy theories. They probably got off on the idea of going through her clothing since they were deprived of female companionship.
Another volunteered to escort her inside. She didn’t like him either. She wanted Karl back. Sweet and somewhat innocent, he’d never raised his voice or done anything untoward. This one studied her like he wanted to eat her, all leering hazel eyes and smarmy grin.
Then the broad-chested soldier returned. “Enough! Get down the hill and round up some men to search the fields beyond the house. We need to make sure someone wasn’t trying to get to the engineer.”
She turned her gaze on the firm, tall male specimen beside her. No one called George “the engineer.” They addressed him as Herr Buckner. Every time. Her protector ordered the men to check the kitchens, the gardens, and everywhere else imaginable. He was a typical blond, blue-eyed German, but the scar trailing down his left cheek struck a chord. She recognized this man from somewhere but couldn’t say where.
“Let me help you inside.”
“I think I can get there on my own, thank you,” she replied taking a few steps back to get a better vantage point.
He stepped in close. “My little canary, it’s best we get you indoors.”
She stiffened as memories flooded her. Those blue eyes, the moment they met. Her on the stage belting out something about love being for fools. He’d stood there, a predatory gaze focused and intent. Instinct had her taking brisk steps to get as far away from the man who’d made her act an idiot all those years ago. Why the hell— How the hell did he get here?
Escape failed when her slipper snagged on a rock, and he grabbed her arm and held her upright. He’d always been able to move her around like a ragdoll, but, in this instance, he didn’t let go. Instead, he guided her into the house, across the foyer, and leaving her by the piano bench.
“Sit,” he commanded as he closed the doors, shutting them into to the room alone. “We’ll need some privacy.”
His firm, assured steps brought him back to her side. Where had he come from? How had he found her? She’d once thought of him as her hero, her personal one. When he hauled her up into his arms, she closed her eyes, the savage kiss he placed on her lips stirring up an arousal she hadn’t experienced since he’d stranded her on this godforsaken continent.
She melted into his familiar embrace. Knocking his cap from his head, she twined her fingers in his hair, their tongues dancing. He groaned. Then passion fell away to reality, to hard truths. Eva bit his lip, and he dropped her. Luckily, she possessed enough sense to land on her feet.
“You’re not happy to see me?”
Growling, she hauled off and slapped him. “Go to hell.”
“I think I’m already there.”
~About the Author~
Landra Graf consumes at least one book a day, and has always been a sucker for stories where true love conquers all. She believes in the power of the written word, and the joy such words can bring. In between spending time with her family and having book adventures, she writes romance with the goal of giving everyone, fictional or not, their own happily ever after.