Well-known journalist Annabelle Carlyle is stunned by the
personal twist of her latest assignment: her best friend Vanessa is
missing. Annabelle goes undercover in the Old South to search for
answers. Full of thick accents and a way of life rooted in the past,
Charleston is as foreign and strange a place as any she's visited.
Before finding a single clue, Annabelle encounters a sexy man she
Tall, dark and charming, Mark Dering is happy to show the gorgeous
Yankee his hometown. He's captivated by the quick witted, quick
tempered redhead. But when they're shot at, he realizes she's far
more than just another tourist. Soon they're deep into a mystery that
goes way back to the Civil War. For once Annabelle is in over her
head. Desperate to find Vanessa, she reluctantly accepts Mark's help
and it isn't long before romance blooms.
The stakes grow higher when a body is discovered. Someone is willing
to kill to keep a century old Confederate secret hidden. With her
best friend missing and a killer on the loose, it's the worst possible
moment for Mark to try and unlock Annabelle's heart. Or is love
exactly what her life's been missing?
He tensed, waited for a bullet to slam into his body, but
nothing happened. Mark looked up and saw Jillian and Annabelle
reeling in the rope, hand over hand. It felt like forever before they
pulled him up the side and onto the deck. He flopped onto his back
and concentrated on breathing.
“Mark, are you ok? Are you hit?” Annabelle’s voice quivered as she
ran her hands frantically over his body checking for blood.
“I’m fine. Got the wind knocked out of me when the engines revved and
slammed me against the boat. Think I swallowed about a gallon of
river water, too.”
“What the hell is going on?” Ashby yelled over his shoulder, holding
tight to the wheel. “Kind of a dramatic entrance for you. Want to
fill me in? Tell me where we’re headed? And why I’m apparently
stealing this boat?”
It was Annabelle who answered. “Head to the harbor. This river does
connect to the harbor, doesn’t it?”
Jillian nodded. “If we use the engine instead of raising the sails we
should be there in about ten minutes.”
“I haven’t navigated this part of the river in a while. Not too
familiar with the layout. Might be a good idea to cut the engine and
take it a bit slower,” said Ashby.
“Don’t slow down!” Mark and Annabelle shouted as one.
Mark pulled himself to his feet and tucked Annabelle securely against
his side, still gasping greedily for air. “Because someone tried to
kill us. We don’t want to wait around and give them a second chance.”