Blazing Love: A Hot, Romantic Suspense Series, Book 2 (The Carlisle Sisters) Read Online Free PDF

have to earn them,” Tracy announced.
    “Challenge accepted.  Just be ready to pay up when I win,” he grinned.
    “That won’t be a problem,” she said softly.
    The server came back with the champagne and poured each glass.
    “Merci,” Blaze said.  He looked at Tracy.  “Are you ready to order?”
    “I haven’t even looked at the menu yet,” she smiled regretfully.
    He looked at the server.
    “Nous donnerez-vous un instant?”  he asked.
    “Oui,” she smiled then walked away.
    “I asked her to give us a moment,” he explained to Tracy.
    “I know,”  she said in awe.  “Were you constructed in a laboratory?”
    “What do you mean?”  Blaze laughed.
    “You’re handsome, your strong, you come to the rescue of damsels in distress when their resort is in trouble and you speak French?”  Tracy explained.  “Your almost perfect!”
    “Almost?”  Blaze joked.
    “Well, the fact that I didn’t hear from you for so long is still working against you.”  Tracy clarified.
    “Well, I promised you I’d make up for that so give it some time,”  Blaze said.  “But what about you?  You’re beautiful, artistic and, considering you understood what I said to the waitress, you must speak French, as well.  Doesn’t that make you perfect, too?
    “No,”  Tracy corrected him.  “It makes me someone who started taking French in 9th grade.  I guess I always had a feeling I’d end up here.  How about you?”
    “It’s become a necessity in my line of work to speak several languages, French being one of them.”  Blaze explained nonchalantly.
    “Of course.  Tell me about your work, Mr. James Bond,” she said breathlessly.
    “Well, I’m not exactly a spy,” he grinned.  “If I was a real spy, you wouldn’t know it.  But why don’t we decide what we want to eat before I get into my occupation?  Do you mind if I order for you?”
    “Not at all.  I trust you won’t order something that will make me barf,” she joked.
    He laughed.
    “You have my word,” he smiled.
    The server came back and he ordered cognac shrimp with beurre blanc sauce, spinach soufflé and steamed mussels.  For dessert he ordered chocolate torte with blueberry wine coulis.  Everything was delicious and their conversation had been easy and natural.
    When their table had been cleared, Blaze finally launched into a description of his work.
    “I have worked independently as a covert collector of intelligence for the last seven years.  I started in this field when I was twenty years old.  It was quite by accident.  I happened to be in the right place to trip up an assassin who was running down the steps of the White House.  I was there on a tour with my Georgetown University sophomore class.  I had no clue who the guy was and I was mortified that I had tripped him.  It was all a horrible accident,” he explained.  “I was about to apologize to the guy when he was suddenly surrounded by the Secret Service and I was whisked off to the FBI, CIA and Homeland Security to be interrogated and then praised for my bravery.  I was shown the CIA headquarters and it was there and then that I got the bug to be a spy.  I asked how I could become an agent and the rest is history.  After about seven years of working for the U.S. government I went out on my own.”
    “That’s fascinating,” Tracy said.
    “Not really.  It’s not exactly like it is in the movies.  Just a lot of surveillance; sitting in dark hideaways for hours waiting for something to happen.  It’s not very exciting or glamorous,” he grimaced.  “But the actual apprehension of a criminal is still exhilarating which is why I continue to do it.”
    “But it’s so dangerous,” she said quietly.
    “Not so much if you’re careful.  There are risks, yes.  But I see those risks as an opportunity to excel,” he replied.  “And then there are the perks that certain cases bring.”
    He reached out and took her hands in his, his eyes