She blinked, her hand hovering above the weapon. Who the hell would be—“Bolun, is that you?”
“Open the door,” he said, his voice muffled, but more cajoling than demanding. “I, um, need to . . .”
Oh, for God’s sake
. She rose from the bunk and grabbed her robe, wrapping it tightly around herself. At the last second she picked up the Glock. Padding to the door, she unlocked it, cracked it open, and carefully peeked out.
“What is it?” she asked. “I thought you were on watch.”
He was standing a few feet back. In the total darkness of the passageway she couldn’t see more than the outline of his large body.
Except there was something wrong. His hair . . . it should have been blond and pale even in the dark. Instead it was black as the midnight sky.
Not Bolun.
She gasped and slammed the door.
Too late.
The man moved like lightning. He slapped his palm against the door, preventing it from closing, then pushed his huge body into it so it flung open and she flew backward onto the bunk.
Suddenly she remembered the Glock in her hand. She whipped it up and started to aim.
“Don’t,”
he warned.
Her heart slammed to her throat.
A large black pistol was pointing right back at her.
Berkley Sensation Titles by Nina Bruhns
SHOOT TO THRILL
IF LOOKS COULD CHILL
A KISS TO KILL
RED HEAT
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 - PETROPAVLOVSK-KAMCHATSKIYA PACIFIC COAST OF RUSSIA LATE JUNE