Speaking of bodies, Lauren was evidently enjoying a very nice eyeful of Sebastian’s
This time, he realized, she wasn’t searching for something neutral to focus on when she spoke to him. “You know, there’s something I should do before I forget.” She scooted next to him and placed a hand on his thigh.
“You need to check that police source for your story?” He observed her hand.
“Yeah, I need to do that, but that wasn’t what I had in mind at the moment.” She made a slow circle on his skin with her index finger.
“You need to call room service for something to eat? I realize we missed dinner.” Sometimes his gallantry astounded him.
“No, I’m fine.”
Sebastian tweaked a smile. “You’re absolutely right, darlin’—in fact, you’re a lot more than fine,” he whispered as Lauren undid her terry-cloth robe and let it slip from her shoulders.
Dear Reader,
The life of a reporter is often filled with uninspiring daily assignments. But what if, under unusual circumstances, a reporter actually got to exercise a self-indulgent flight of fancy regarding one of the least-coveted of duties—writing an obituary?
What if, indeed?
Lauren Jeffries finds out the repercussions when an obituary that she has liberally embellished inadvertently gets published. Not only is her journalistic integrity compromised, but she also finds herself enmeshed in an international art theft. And even more dangerously, she tangles with Sebastian Alberti, the investigator on the case.
Never has a case of “misapplied” identity led to so many twists and turns and sexy interludes. Yes, those sexy interludes.
And here I said a reporter’s life was dull!
All the best,
Tracy Kelleher
Books by Tracy Kelleher
HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION
908—EVERYBODY’S HERO
949—IT’S ALL ABOUT EVE…
The Truth About Harry
Tracy Kelleher
MILLS & BOON
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To my gracious editor, Kathryn Lye. You made it happen.
Contents
Prologue
Harry Nord, 83, Manufacturer And Philanthropist, Dies
Harry Nord, a decorated World War II pilot, self-made millionaire and generous local philanthropist, died in his sleep yesterday at the Philadelphia Veteran’s Administration Hospital. He was 83 years old and had been ill for some time.
A true Horatio Alger story, Mr. Nord, born in Camden, New Jersey, came from a humble background, having been orphaned at the age of twelve when his parents died in the infamous B&O train crash of December 1934. An investigation of the incident revealed that the conductor had reported to work inebriated after celebrating at the company Christmas party. Charges were leveled, though later dropped, against the railroad’s management. Mr. Nord liked to tell employees of Nord Notions and Trimmings Company, of which he was founder and president, that it was his constant lack of proper winter clothing growing up in greater Philadelphia that led him to the garment industry.
Before making his mark in the industry, Mr. Nord had a distinguished military career in World War II, rising to the rank of captain. A pilot, his plane was shot down on a mission over northern Italy. Although dazed and injured, Mr. Nord dragged his wounded navigator from the burning plane. Local villagers of San—
LAUREN JEFFRIES tapped on the space bar and rubbed her lips. “San what?” she asked out loud to no one in particular. The rest of the Metro Desk at the Philadelphia Sentinel, eastern Pennsylvania’s second-largest newspaper—a claim that never failed to generate a snide “Hah!” from Lauren—had long since filed their stories for the night’s deadline and were drinking cheap beer and complaining about their piddly salaries at Gino’s, the bar around the corner from the office.
She glanced at her notes, knowing already that they wouldn’t offer any assistance. A conspiratorial smile formed on her lips, and she hunched over her terminal and tapped furiously.
Local villagers from San Margherita discovered the two men and hid the crew until they were well enough to travel. Then, with the aid of a shepherd, they hiked to safety across the Alps to Switzerland. Mr. Nord was later awarded a Bronze Star for heroism.
Upon conclusion of the war, Mr. Nord returned to Philadelphia, where he secured various entry-level jobs in the garment industry. While working as a buttonholer at a shirt factory, he realized that the finishing process would proceed much more quickly if there were a single machine that could sew and slit the buttonholes at the same time. He developed an automatic buttonhole device, which he patented. The Nordomatic, as the