Scars

Being a spy isn’t for the faint at heart – especially for a brute American and the beautiful, cunning Brit….
Who am I? I’m Cole Carson, and I’m the best at what I do. Four years ago, the CIA forced me to babysit the young MI6 princess, Isabella Donnelly. It was beneath my pay grade and skill set, but I like to think I taught her everything she knows – because I’m just that good.
Turns out there’s a first time for everything, because I was wrong about her. She pissed me off and challenged me in ways no one had before. I not only ate my words, I choked those suckers down with a bottle of whiskey when someone ripped her away from me. Now she’s back, and no one can know she’s here. And by no one, I mean all of the Western world. I’m determined to clear her name and make her mine. It’s a tall order so it’s a damn good thing I’m me.
A dare….
Okay, fine. It wasn’t a dare. More like a wager, laid at my feet by none other than Cole Carson. It’s all semantics at this point; I’m stuck between the threat of prison and my arsehole American, whom I just can’t shake. Trust me, I’ve tried.
I have no one to blame but my stupid, stupid heart. I’m no princess and certainly don’t need a prince charming. I can kick arse all on my own, and it’s what I came here to do. Taking a bullet was not on my agenda…neither was waking up in the hospital with Cole glaring at me. But I’m here, and I’m nothing if not determined. But that dare…I can’t focus on that until I clear my name. If Cole wants to tag along, so be it. I’m a Donnelly. We don’t give up nor do we bow down to anyone.