4.75 Stars
Luna Canning trusts numbers more than people-and for good
reason. As a forensic accountant who specializes in exposing fraud, she knows
numbers never deceive, unlike the toxic family she's spent a lifetime trying to
escape. Now living in her grandmother's Victorian home, Luna has built a
carefully ordered life behind walls she thought were unbreakable.
When her car is stolen from an airport parking lot, former
FBI agent turned PI Nate Warren steps in to help-and proves more dangerous to
her defenses than any thief. Despite Luna's iron-clad rules about mixing
business with pleasure, their chemistry ignites, and for the first time, she
considers letting someone past her guard. But just as their relationship begins
to blossom, Luna's manipulative mother arrives unannounced, dragging with her a
dangerous man and decades of unresolved trauma that threaten everything Luna
has built.
Now Luna must confront the ghosts of her past-both
metaphorical and possibly literal, as strange occurrences in her historic home
suggest she's not alone. With a violent threat looming and her heart on the
line, Luna discovers that sometimes the hardest person to trust is yourself.
Luna + Nate
• EXCERPT •
Five minutes past nine, Luna walked into the law offices of Allen and Associates. She paused at the reception desk and started to unbutton her coat.
“Hi Melinda.”
“Hi.”
“Marcus is expecting me. Is he in his office or the conference room?”
“They’re in the conference room,” she said.
They? Great . . . nothing like being late for more than one person.
Luna shrugged out of her coat.
Melinda stepped around the desk to take it. “No need to stress.”
“I hate being late. This jerk bumped into me, my coffee ended up on the street . . .” Luna pulled in a deep breath, stood tall, and pasted on a small she didn’t feel.
Melinda laughed. “I’ll bring coffee to the room.”
Luna sighed. “I could kiss you.”
“Not in the office,” Melinda teased.
Swiping a strand of soaked hair back, Luna made her way to the conference room.
Just outside the open door she heard voices.
“She elbowed me, her coffee took flight, and she had the audacity to act like it was my fault.”
Luna froze in the doorway.
Dark roast venti guy had his back to her.
Marcus stood to his left, shaking his head. “It feels like most people are walking around in a daze. Heads in their phones, earbuds blasting music. No one pays attention anymore.”
“Tell me about it.”
The fake smile she’d painted on only moments ago slid from her face. Seriously? This guy blamed her?
The nerve.
“There she is. My secret weapon for numbers,” Marcus boasted once he caught sight of Luna standing there.
Slowly, Mr. Venti turned.
A sinister feeling of joy bloomed in Luna’s chest as recognition hit his eyes.
Unaware of the silent communication between her and Venti, Marcus made the introductions. “Nate Warren, this is Luna Canning.”
She placed her purse on the conference table and reached out to shake his hand. “Hello, Mr. Warren. You look familiar. Have we met before?”
His hand was warm, despite the fact that they’d both just come in from the cold.
“If we did, I, ah . . . certainly didn’t catch your name.” Nate gave her hand a little extra squeeze before letting her go. “Marcus has told me a lot about you.”
“All good I hope.”
To Nate’s credit, he didn’t break eye contact, even when her smirk of a smile said ten times more than her words did.
“Singing your praise, Luna. If I could sing,” Marcus said as he patted her shoulder in a warmer welcome than a handshake.
“You’re too kind.”
That made him laugh. “Since when are you humble?”
It was then that Luna purposely looked away from Nate. “I have to try once in a while.”
“Sit, sit.”
Luna moved to a seat opposite Nate.
Marcus sat at the head of the table.
“I’m sorry for being late. It’s a little . . .” She glanced at Nate. “Hectic out there.”
Amusement swam in Nate’s hazel eyes without the least bit of shame.
“So I’ve heard,” Marcus said.
Melinda walked into the room, a cup of coffee in her hand. She sat it in front of Luna with a small caddy filled with cream and various types of sugar.
“Thank you.”
“Can I get anything for you, Mr. Warren?”
Nate cleared his throat. “Ah, no. I’m good.”
Luna glanced at Nate’s Starbucks cup before doctoring her coffee to her liking.
Melinda closed the door behind her when she left.
“I’ve already told Nate about your prowess with numbers. You won’t find a better forensic accountant in the state.”
This time, Luna accepted the praise without humility.
“Nate is our new consultant. He worked as a criminal fraud investigator for the federal government. Now he works independently as a private investigator using those same skills.”
Luna lifted the coffee to her lips and talked over the rim of the cup. “You’re a little young to be retired from the Feds.”
“I was more interested in the private sector with more room to do my job than bureaucratic red tape allowed.”
Luna sipped her coffee, then put the cup down.
“And more lucrative,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow. “No one likes to wait for Congress to
approve their paycheck.”
“Their loss, our gain,” Marcus said. “And I have a feeling that
with the two of you, we’ll be an unbeatable team.”
Luna placed her fingers on the charm she had hanging from her neck and slowly slid it along the chain.
Marcus handed them each a folder. “Our client is Joel Mercier . . .”
↓ Links to the Book & Author ↓
Book #4
New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author Catherine Bybee has written nearly 50 books that have collectively sold more than 11 million copies. Her titles have been translated into more than 20 languages. Raised in Washington State, Bybee moved to Southern California in the hope of becoming a movie star. After growing bored with waiting tables, she returned to school and became a registered nurse, spending most of her career in urban emergency rooms. She now writes full time and has penned the popular Not Quite, Weekday Brides, Most Likely To, First Wives, D'Angelos, Heirs, and Queen Anne Hill series.
