🌟BOOK BLITZ:🌟 A Woman Like Her by Hannalore Jones {EXCERPT + GIVEAWAY!}

A Woman Like Her by Hannalore Jones

Release Date: June 19th 2019

Series: Disavowed #1

Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

They thought they could control a woman like her.

Seri’s world shattered when they labeled her father a traitor. Three years later, the government that disavowed him makes her an offer she can’t refuse, sending her on a dangerous mission to seduce a man who’s planning a catastrophic attack. How far will she go to clear her father’s name—especially because she can’t seem to resist the Boy Scout who’s been assigned to protect her?

Sam has never lost his cool on an op—except that one time, and it nearly cost him his career. And he thought he knew everything there was to know about his new asset after reading Seri’s file. But he never expected to fall so hard for a woman like her. Now as they race across the world to save millions of lives, he’s willing to risk everything to keep her safe.

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{EXCERPT}

She put on a bra worth about 300 Euro, the kind that made her wonder why women bothered with this kind of nonsense. The see-through lace demi-cups only served to decorate her breasts, not actually contain them, and didn’t even come close to covering her nipples. Why not just go naked? Mohammed had sent her out to the Alsterhaus, which was like this big fancy mall, to exchange the ill-fitting lingerie he’d bought. Tarek, too embarrassed to sit within eyeshot of a series of near-naked mannequins, was waiting far outside the boutique at a little café.

She was staring at herself, stupidly wondering what Sam thought of lingerie, when she heard the knock. She barely had time to grab her shirt when the door opened.

“Don’t worry sweetheart. I’ve seen it all before.”

Sam. Using a cold voice, one she didn’t quite recognize. He held up a hand as though he couldn’t care less about her state of undress. He was wearing a pair of dark gray pants, somehow perfectly tailored to his long body, and a white dress shirt, rolled at the sleeves to show his roped forearms, and opened slightly at the neck. Like he’d just come from a business meeting. It might have been his sexiest look yet.

“Good point,” she said, dropping the shirt onto the chair behind her and almost daring him to stare, knowing her panties were just as transparent. But as he raked his gaze up and down, she felt herself grow warm, remembering how good it had been between them. Wanting more than just his eyes on her. She licked her lips at the thought, and the tightening of his jaw told her he not only noticed, but was thinking the same thing.

Hot and cold, this guy. She was normally good at reading men, but he—or the situation they were in, more likely—was really throwing her off. Really good sex will do that to you too. She decided to get to the point.

“What are you doing here?”

“Time for an update. We thought it would be best if we didn’t always meet at the foundation offices. The surveillance team said you were here.”

“Yeah well my new boyfriend thought I could use some sexy underwear.”

“Yeah?” he said, tilting his head at her. “If I were him, I’d keep you naked as much as possible.”

“Usually he does,” she taunted, enjoying how his eyes flickered with annoyance . . . and something else. Guilt, maybe.

He cleared his throat. “Let’s just get to it, okay? Anything new to report?”

“Yes, I listened in to an interesting conversation.”

“What do you mean, you listened in?”

“Back in New York, Quinn had suggested I—”

“No, fuck that.” He grabbed her shoulders, startling her. “I’m your handler. You do what I say, understood? No more eavesdropping.”

“Yes sir,” she said condescendingly.

“If you get burned, you’re dead.”

“Okay,” she said softly. Thinking, maybe he does care a little.

After a pause, he let out a breath, annoyed, and looked at his hands on her shoulders like he’d forgotten they were attached to his body. He dropped them and stepped back. “So what did you hear anyway?”

She laughed. “What happened to no eavesdropping?”

“You’ve already done it. I’m just saying don’t do it again.”

“Yesterday I was just getting home from shopping and when I walked in the door, I heard him say what sounded like ‘the prah-,’ to someone on the phone. Like the beginning of ‘profit’ or ‘project.’ But he cut himself off and he ended the conversation.” She saw Sam’s eyes widen. “What?”

“Provident?”

“Maybe. It was just a syllable.”

“It was a drone,” he said, taking out his phone to send a text.

“A drone?”

“Quinn thinks they’re reverse-engineering a Provident T-120 drone. This is likely confirmation.”

Right. Of course. They’ve all been back at some office, working on this behind the scenes, she realized stupidly. She’d been so focused on the shit with Mohammed, she felt completely cut off from whatever was going on with the team. She thought of them all, sitting around a conference table like at the restaurant in New York, shooting the usual shit, joking about the op and whatever she was doing with Mohammed. Being themselves. Wondered how hard they were all laughing about her. Just another asset. Just another job, another story to tell over drinks.

“Oh, okay. Good,” she stammered.

“Anything else?” he asked, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“Yeah, he’s got a thumb drive that he protects pretty carefully. It’s shaped like a key and he keeps it on his key chain, always on his person or locked up. One day he even got up in the middle of . . . being in bed with me because he’d forgotten to put it in his safe.” She was pleased to see him shift uncomfortably at how intimate her life with Mohammed had become.

“Okay, great. We’ll need that.”

“Sure, no problem,” she snorted. So much for him caring if she lived or died. “How the fuck am I supposed to get it?”

“I’m sure you’ll manage to distract him. Your skills are . . . singular,” he said, letting his eyes drift again.

“Fuck you,” she snapped. “You can’t actually be pissed at me.”

“Just a little surprised at how quickly you’ve taken to him,” he grumbled. “And it’s disgusting for me to think of that motherfucker with his hands on you.”

“Yeah it must be awful for you,” she responded sarcastically, turning to face the mirror.

That got through to him. “Sorry,” he mumbled, moving toward the door.

“I didn’t take you for the jealous type,” she called after him.

He took the bait and turned around, cocky again. “Sweetheart, you and I both know I could make you come more in ten minutes than he could in ten years.”

Oh, she knew it. Something electric passed between them, and she licked her lips again.

“Prove it,” she dared, wanting to wipe that cold scowl off his face.

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