Miki is living every woman's fantasy#nbsp;-- stranded on a desert island with a rugged Navy SEAL. But little does Miki know she's a suspect in an international high-tech robbery, and her steely-eyed companion is ready, willing and able to do anything to make her talk....
Navy SEAL Max Preston doesn't buy one word of his gorgeous captive's rambling story as he carries her up the beach. Yeah, she's got curves in all the right places, but Max has a nose for a con#nbsp;-- and there's no way he'll let his iron control waver.
Now a hurricane's headed their way, and for Max and Miki time is running out fast. Can they team up as friendly forces#nbsp;-- and use Max's amazing canine companion to escape before a deadly villain takes his twisted revenge?
"Snappy dialogue and between-the-sheets sizzle will please Skye's numerous fans."
-- PUBLISHERS WEEKLY.
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April 30, 2006
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Excerpt from Code Name: Blondie by Christina Skye
WHY DID SEX SOUND so noisy when it wasn't happening to you?
Miki Fortune steadied her digital camera and tried to ignore the grunts and groans from the nearby tent where her two models were doing the nasty again in full audio. There was no mistaking the sharply heaving canvas where her gorgeous six-foot-one Scandinavian model was getting screwed up, down and sideways by an equally gorgeous male model from Montana.
Satisfied with two shots of the pristine cove, Miki shouldered her camera gear and headed back up the beach. White sand crunched beneath her feet and a warm wind ruffled her hair, but all Miki saw was camera angles and F-stops. Paradise meant nothing when you were trying not to screw up the biggest opportunity of your life, a full-color calendar called Best Beaches of the World.
Behind Miki the tent walls shook harder. Panting voices carried on the wind. "Oh, Looogan. That way.
Harder#nbsp;-- harder!" The canvas snapped and the sound effect grew more obvious.
Miki scowled. If people wanted to have sex, they should do it in another state.
Logan Brooks, Miki's tanned male model, ground out an urgent curse. Something crashed to the ground beyond the canvas wall.
Disgusted, Miki stowed her camera and lenses, then glanced at her watch.After all the time zones she'd crossed between her home in New Mexico and this beach southwest of Bora Bora, her body clock felt permanently out of synch. But tired or not, she had finished the day's shots without a hitch. Now that her new digital cameras were stowed and their precious memory cards transferred to a portable hard drive, Miki couldn't wait to get back in the air.
Paradise was fine when you were eighteen and crazy in love, enjoying a clothing-optional vacation. When you were working, paradise felt like salt in an old wound, reminding you of all that was wrong with your life.
Which, in Miki's case, could have filled most of Montana.
One of the pilots leaned against a palm tree and peeled an apple, clearly enjoying the models' escapade. An older pilot napped in the shade, hat over his head. Her boss sat in a leather campaign chair scanning the photos she'd transferred to his laptop.
Vance Merchant didn't look pleased. She'd given him her best work, shots that shimmered with dawn light and burned with sunset crimson. There was no possible reason for his frown other than the simple fact that he could. The man knew he held all the power and he enjoyed wielding it mercilessly. He was a tyrant, just the way Miki had heard. Being around him was about as much fun as sharing a cardboard box with a scorpion.
But the job was important, her first chance at national commercial exposure. If the calendar was a success, Miki knew she'd receive dozens of travel assignments, a fiercely competitive category of photographic work. So she dug her toe slowly through the warm sand, fighting uneasiness as she waited for Vance's verdict.
Her balding boss looked up as the tent shook one last time. Moments later Miss Finland 2002 emerged, stunning in a black string bikini that hugged her body like butter. When her partner appeared, he was rumpled and languid, his shirt buttoned wrong and his zipper still open.
Someone snickered. The men looked up as Miss Finland stretched languidly. Vance smiled and started to make a comment.
Miki cut him off. "Can we go now?"
The model, who currently worked under the name of Jasmyn, stretched slowly while she toyed with her tiny bikini top, aware that she had all the men's attention. "Me, I am hungry with appetite. I can eat very big horse right now." She frowned beautifully. "Anyone have very big horse to give?"
Miki's boss muttered something to the older pilot. Miki ignored them.
Sometimes men had all the subtlety of boa constrictors. And now three new bruises darkened Miss Finland's elegant neck.