To Catch a Sub (CLUB ALIBI #1) by Lila Dubois EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Lila Dubois
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2.2 MB
- Price: Free
A MASSIVE SAPPHIRE landed in the center of Interpol Agent Landon
Malik’s desk. It sat there like a chunk of summer-blue sky that had been cut
free and faceted.
Normally, Landon would have reacted instantly and decisively, but it
had been a long day. He’d been slogging through paperwork at his desk for
three hours. Before that were four hours of travel—it was a long train ride
from London to Manchester—which in turn were preceded by ten hours in
Heathrow’s security offices, interviewing suspected smugglers.
He’d planned to visit Club Alibi to check in before leaving London,
though it wasn’t his assigned week as Dom in residence. The club was new,
and when he was in London he tried to stop in. But yesterday it hadn’t been
possible, even though his boss had okayed him delaying starting the
paperwork on the smuggling case so he could spend some time at the club
before returning to the office.
The suspected smugglers were women and children, victims of human
trafficking who’d been forced to carry goods into the UK, and the sooner he
got the right kind of reports written and paperwork filed, the better for
them.
He’d skipped a visit to Club Alibi this time, assuring his boss that he’d
stop in the next time he was in London, if he was back in the capital before
his assigned week at the club.
It used to be that Landon’s work and personal life were completely
separate. Now his boss knew he preferred sexually submissive partners and
had bondage and pain kinks.
Landon stared at the sapphire, resting in the center of his report, for
another half a second before his tired brain processed what he was looking
at.
And the implications.
Awareness hummed through him as he looked from the gem to the hand
of fate. More specifically, the hand that had just dropped a jewel onto his
paperwork.
Pale, elegant, fingers wiggled in a cheeky greeting. His gaze followed
the line of her arm up to her face.
“Bonjour, Landon.”
The moment should have had a dramatic orchestral music, rather than a
backing score of generic office sounds—low-voices and the clack of
keyboards.
A beautiful dark-haired woman with pale skin and a heart-shaped face
leaned one hip against his desk. She wore a tan trench coat over a white
dress with a silk scarf in patterns of blue, green, and pops of yellow looped
casually around her neck. She looked effortlessly chic and totally at ease. A
smile played around her mouth and her eyes sparkled, as if she was amused
by the world, and hoped you felt the same.
Landon’s stomach knotted in shock, followed by relief.
She was alive.
“You’re alive.” He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
She leaned forward, and he could smell her perfume. Her eyes were
bright with intelligence and humor. “Were you worried about me, Landon?”
He should be sounding an alarm or hand cuffing her—and not fun
recreational cuffing. No, she should be in restraints because she was a
criminal, and a damned good one
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