Seth Turner is a soldier without a battle. He's lost his left hand under the knife of Dr. Harper Douglas--and now he feels broken. Being secreted in a safe house with the gorgeous doc only adds to his pain. He wants to bury himself in her softness and experience love again. He's a man with a mission....
Living under the radar has Harper on edge. But she's also affected by the sexy Delta Force hero in her care. Why not indulge in a little sexual fling and forget her own loneliness? Seth has almost forgiven her for destroying his life. But will he forgive her for breaking his heart&3133;when she leaves?
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December 31, 2006
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Excerpt from Release (in Too Deep... ) by Jo Leigh
SETH TURNER REACHED FOR HIS blanket with a hand that wasn't there. He'd been half-asleep, but now he was awake and filled with a red heat that burned behind his eyes, in his gut. Every day he had to relearn the raw truth: his left hand was gone, ripped apart by a bullet, tossed aside by the doctor upstairs. Without his consent.
He hated her for it. Hated her touching him even to give him an exam. Hated her voice when she tried to convince him she'd done the right thing--saved his life. Did it ever occur to her that he didn't want this life?
He pulled the blanket up with his right hand and settled back on the pillow. It was a different kind of torture, knowing she was sleeping upstairs. That he would have to live here, with her, for months yet to come while he learned to use the prosthesis.
It had already been three months since she'd performed the surgery. It had taken this long for the wound to heal, for his skin to form a useless lump three inches up from what used to be his wrist. He'd been in bar fights, he'd been in wars, he'd even survived Delta Force training, but nothing had been harder.
He understood now why men, good men, turned to drugs and alcohol after they'd been mutilated. The pain was the least of it. The part he couldn't stand, that made him want to die, was the loss of everything that was important about him. Which was the part Dr. Harper Douglas didn't get.
To make things worse, to add the goddamned cherry on top, there were his dreams. They came every night now. At first he'd shaken them off, but there was no use pretending they were going to stop. He woke in the middle of the night sweating and hard, his erection throbbing as images of her, of goddamn Harper, made him ache until, with his one good hand, he took care of business. Even that didn't end his torment. Once he'd come, thoughts of her haunted him long into the pale mornings. With luck he'd fall asleep again, but mostly his luck had run out. By the time she came downstairs he hated her again. He tried to be civil, but it didn't come easy.