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Reckless
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- FREE for a limited time only! -- EXCERPT: Rachel’s laughter was still ringing in Megan’s ears hours later as Dimitri navigated their car through central London’s traffic. “I don’t like being bait.” Even though that was exactly what she was. “You’re not bait. You’re my partner. We’re in this together. You saving your sister. Me saving mine. Partners.” To his credit, Dimitri even managed to keep a straight face while he said it. They were stuck in the endless traffic around Piccadilly Circus. “Why is this called a circus anyway? I don’t get it. It isn’t a square, or a roundabout, so I can understand that the town planners wouldn’t want to call it that. But circus, that makes no sense at all.” She turned in her seat to face Dimitri. “Do you think there was an actual circus based here at some point?” She couldn’t see it. The grand Victorian buildings, with their white stone facades and weird little turrets and domes, didn’t look like the sort of place you’d house animals. “Can we focus on the job?” Dimitri swerved around a double decker bus and into Shaftesbury Avenue, the home of London theatre. “I came down here to see a play once, when I was in secondary school,” Megan said. “Shakespeare. I can’t remember which one. I was more interested in getting the attention of Hamish McIntosh at the time.” She remembered the kiss they’d managed to sneak in, in the theatre foyer when the teachers weren’t looking. Good times. Now Hamish was a farmer up near Aberdeen and Megan was bait. She spotted a large banner over a theatre. “Helen Mirren and Libby Collins are doing a play.” With a grin she turned to Dimitri. “When this is all over we need to go. They’re two of my all-time favourite actresses. Helen Mirren especially.” “Who?” “Seriously? How can you not know who Helen Mirren is? She’s like acting royalty.” She gaped at him. “You’re one of those guys, aren’t you? I should have realised.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, irritated with traffic, and probably with her. “What guys?” Poor ignorant man, he needed her help. “Guys fall into two categories. Die Hard and Star Wars.” “You’re making this shit up.” “The Star Wars guys watch everything sci-fi, think they’re intellectuals and can quote comic books. The Die Hard guys think movies ended with John McClane.” A sceptical look was all she got for her efforts to educate the guy. “That’s it? Comic-Con geeks and John McClane wannabes?” She waved a hand. “I’m over simplifying. The point is, you’re a Die Hard guy. Prove me wrong. Name a movie you’ve seen that was made after Die Hard.” Honestly, she could almost smell rubber burning while he thought about it. At last, he grinned in triumph. “Die Hard 4,” he said.
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