A princess in peril must choose between duty and desire in this electrifying romance No one believes Princess Serena has the strength to rule Acacia...least of all Serena. But the assassins that placed her in line for the throne have turned their sights on her. And the mysterious Casimir Cullen--who's already saved her life once--is the only man she trusts. Serena is drawn to Casimir with overwhelming ferocity. But affairs of state require that she marry King Warrington of Rizari. Casimir's relationship with Serena was supposed to be a means toward revenge against Warrington. Falling in love was never part of the plan. Now, protecting Serena and bolstering her self-confidence has become his priority. But what will happen when she learns his secret destiny?

There is no way to escape Dead River...and a killer is waiting A contagious virus has rocked the small, snow-covered town of Dead River, Wyoming. And time for a cure is running out. But sick patients and a community quarantine is just the beginning of nurse Gemma Colton's troubles. The arrival of Dr. Rafe Granger triggers memories from her past: a high school crush...unfulfilled desires. Even Rafe's outward persona--cool, unaffected--is a thin veil for his yearning. They must suppress temptation to focus on finding a cure. But someone else is watching them. Someone else has other plans for the town.

A king's secret daughter is swept into romance and danger in this tale of royal intrigue. The ruler of Icarus is cunning and ruthless, yet Iliana Kracos has seen another side of Demetrius DeSante. And after an explosive night of passion together, she agrees to marry him. Yet when he reveals her true parentage--she's heir to the throne--it puts her bridegroom in a new light. Iliana isn't sure how she can trust Demetrius. Does he truly love her, or is she merely a pawn in his royal game? But Demetrius assures he'll protect Iliana at all costs, and with a ruthless assassin targeting royal heirs, Iliana has no choice but to put her faith in the man she knows the least--her husband.

From classified secrets to unleashed desires... Elite hacker Kit Walker expects a safe desk job when the government taps her for a classified project. So when Kit's captured by a cyberterrorist group, she fears for her life and her work. But when gorgeous Griffin Brooks turns up to save her, it's not only her life that's in danger... Griffin was assigned to Kit's case, but protecting the bashful beauty soon becomes so much more than a job to him. How can he do his duty to guard her when he couldn't keep his late wife safe from a nefarious killer? As a lethal threat closes in on them both, Griffin and Kit will have to untangle the deadly web of lies—and their growing attraction—if they want to stop their enemy in his tracks.

Heart-racing romance, breathless suspense A chilling murder sparks a red-hot runway romance... After working her way to the top of the modeling world, Marissa Walker finds her dream turning into a nightmare. Her best friend is murdered before her turn on the runway! Is killing models suddenly in style? Now a deadly hitman is targeting Marissa...even as she becomes a suspect in her friend's death. Enter Jack Larson, army ranger turned bodyguard. Jack's mission: protect a supermodel while attempting to resist the flesh-and-blood woman behind the stunning face. He's been burned in love before, as has Marissa, but when the hunt for a killer leads them into a world of glamour and danger, they'll put everything on the line for love—and their lives! "Good pacing, an intriguing plot and plenty of action keep the reader turning the pages. Add to that the sizzling chemistry and tension between Connor and Kate, and this story is truly...

C. J. Miller weaves a story of deception and framing that will keep you guessing.... She woke up on her ex-fiancé's boat with his blood on her hands. Is it possible that Susan Prescott killed Justin and didn't remember it? When the artist is accused of murder, the only one who will believe and protect her is Brady Truman. Brady, her former lover. Brady, who must dispel his agonizing self-doubts if he hopes to help anyone else.... To find the real killer--and the hitmen gunning for them--Susan and Brady have to deal with their still-simmering desire. It all hinges on Susan's memory. Will returning to the boat trigger her recall...or plunge her deeper into danger?

A sexy sheik finds forbidden love in C.J. Miller's tale of international intrigue After an uncharacteristic night of passion, event coordinator Sarah Parker learns her mystery lover is Sheik Saafir, her new client--and the target of an assassination plot. But the darkly handsome royal has an appeal the sensible Sarah can't ignore, even when she's caught in the cross fire. Honor bound, Saafir has agreed to an arranged marriage to unite the feuding factions in his country...and then he kisses the surprising American. Now, dodging bullets is nowhere near as dangerous as the attraction that puts his sense of duty at war with his heart. But can he walk away from Sarah even to save his life...and hers?

In this kingdom, not even the royals are immune to danger  With a sexy FBI agent posing as her suitor, Princess Laila of Qamsar is home for the wedding of her brother the Emir. In truth, the beautiful royal and Harris Truman are on an undercover mission: to find the infamous terrorist her brother is suspected of aiding. But once the festivities begin, Laila faces a bigger threat than Al-Adel. Her secret meetings with Harris pose a danger to her safety­—and her heart. To gain his love and live in freedom as his equal is her ardent desire. But will she betray her traditions for a man whose kisses are part of a charade?About the AuthorC.J. writes romantic suspense novels for Harlequin. She loves to hear from her readers and can be contacted through her website: www.cj-miller.com. She lives in Maryland with her husband, son, and daughter. C.J. believes in first loves, second chances, and happily ever after. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.She would never enjoy a cup of coffee again. Laila removed her stained navy-blue apron and shoved it in the washing machine with the others. A few more tasks and she could close for the night, giving her feet—and her nose—a much-needed break.Laila had been listening to the radio since she'd closed the store, hoping to learn new information about the situation in her home country of Qamsar. Her brother's regressive, conservative social policies weren't popular with certain factions in the country, and Laila hoped Mikhail would adopt a more moderate approach to ruling before tensions erupted into violence. Her mother feared civil war, and Laila feared for her family's safety. The broadcast had nothing new to report.Laila double-checked the coffee, latte and espresso machines, and switched off the lights and radio in the back room. The only sound in the small cafe was the washing machine filling with water.She jumped when she saw a man leaning against the cafe's glass front door. Deep blue eyes watched her. Laila crossed the room, her heart jittering nervously. He had visited the cafe dozens of times before, and each time, he had caught and held her attention. "Harris. What are you doing here?" she asked through the glass.Had he not been one of her regular customers, she would have backed away, told him to leave and maybe even called the police. But Harris was a good man, charming, easy to talk with, and she'd developed a fondness for him. She looked forward to his visits, and though this one was oddly timed, a shudder of excitement piped through her."I tried knocking, but you didn't hear me," Harris said. "I need to talk to you."Laila stared at him through the glass. "About what?" Growing up in Qamsar, even as a member of the royal family, she was wary of men. American men made her doubly nervous; though with Harris, her nervousness was centered on attraction not fear. Attracted to him and unsure how to strike up a friendship, her feelings for Harris confused her. In Qamsar, it wasn't appropriate to have a friendship with a man. Much about her life in America was new to her, including her job, which she'd taken to stay off her brother's radar and have money of her own. It was a freedom she enjoyed.Harris pressed a badge against the glass. "You're in danger. I need you to come with me."Laila leaned forward, examining the badge that contained Harris's picture and the words FBI SpecialAgent. Surprise and alarm skittered across her skin. Harris had never mentioned what he did for a living, and she had never told him that she was the emir's sister. A stab of betrayal pierced her. She'd expected the American government to monitor her, but she hadn't expected Harris to be the one doing it.Had danger traveled from Qamsar to find her in America? "Why do you think I'm in danger?" Her nerves tightened in her stomach and exhaustion fled to the corners of her mind."Please trust me. I don't mean you any harm," Harris said. He slid his badge into his pocket and held his hands out, palms facing her. "Let's talk for a few minutes without me shouting through the glass."Laila unlocked the door and allowed Harris inside. "Is my family safe?" Her mother's safety was at the foremost of her thoughts."At the present the data I have on the situation indicates they are not hurt or directly in danger."Which was not the same as saying they were safe. People in public positions during social upheaval were never completely safe. Since her father had died two years ago, her brother Mikhail had taken over as emir, and the shift of power had caused political and social rumblings that had only grown louder with time. "Then why do you think I'm in danger?" Laila asked. She liked Harris. Whenever he'd come to the counter to place his order, he had spoken to her and listened to her responses. His demeanor tonight was different than it had been in weeks past. His shoulders were tight; his carefree, flirtatious smile was missing and tension pulsed off him in waves."We've received intel that someone wants to hurt you," Harris said. The tension she'd sensed was pent up in his words.Laila forced her heart to remain calm. Growing up in Qamsar, political enemies of her father had often threatened her and her family. Threats weren't anything new. "The situation at home isn't good, and someone always gets the bright idea to intimidate my family and me in the heat of emotion. I don't take those threats seriously."His brows drew together and his blue eyes sharpened. "You need to take this one seriously."Laila wouldn't allow an American man—no matter how attracted she was to him—to scare her. Americans didn't understand the Qamsarian culture, and they didn't understand her family. "We can talk about this another time. I'm tired, and I have an early class tomorrow. My uncle will be expecting me, and he'll be worried if I arrive home too late."Harris waited while she locked up and followed her to her car. "Please, Laila. I wouldn't be here if we didn't feel the threats against you were real and pervasive."Laila pulled her car keys from her handbag and pressed the unlock button. The lights on her car flashed."No!"Harris's shout echoed in her ears, followed by the sound of an explosion and the sensation of her body being slammed into gravel. She slid, the backs of her legs and her arms burning. Harris was on top of her, his body covering hers. Laila gasped for air, the heaviness of him stifling. She struggled to sit up. As he rolled to the side, pulling his phone from his pocket, she caught sight of her car. It was now consumed in flames.Her mouth fell open. She hadn't expected this. Not while she was living in America. Car bombings didn't happen in suburban America. People were safe here, weren't they?Who wanted to kill her bad enough to follow her to America?Harris scanned the area, looking for anyone out of place. A bystander who might have seen something or even the bomber lingering to watch the fallout of his attack. No one except law enforcement and the first medical responders were on the scene.Laila sat on the curb in the parking lot, a blanket wrapped around her. He'd had someone on his team call her aunt and uncle to let them know Laila was fine, painting the explosion as a car accident. The truth was more grim: a car bomb had been planted in Laila's car. If Harris hadn't recognized the high frequency whine of an explosive's timer engaging, she would be dead. The intel the FBI had gathered on the situation had predicted Laila and members of the royal family of Qamsar were in danger, though it was difficult to predict how or if an attack might occur.The FBI's list of bombing suspects was short, mostly made up of members of the Holy Light Brotherhood, a terrorist organization that wanted Qamsar to remain isolated from "infidel influences." Those "infidel influences" included America as a whole, and with the emir negotiating a trade agreement, a female member of the royal family studying in America became an obvious target to anyone wanting to send a message.Harris sat on the curb next to Laila. "How are you holding up?"Laila watched him with tired, soulful brown eyes. "I'm in shock. I've read about bombings. I've seen it reported on the news, but nothing like this has ever happened to me."The profile the FBI and CIA had created for Laila indicated she had lived a sheltered life. Living in America with her uncle and aunt, her mother's sister, was the first time Laila had been away from Qamsar and her life as a royal princess. After her father, the former emir, had died, Laila had come to America on a student visa and had enrolled in the University of Colorado in Denver. From what Harris had gathered, her brother was not happy about Laila living in America, but he hadn't outright forbidden it. "We'll make sure nothing like this happens again to you."Harris had connected with Laila from the first day he'd met her. She went about her job quietly and efficiently, and she had intelligent, alert eyes. If she wasn't his assignment, he might have asked her on a date, and gotten a chance to know her better and uncover the passion he saw simmering below the surface. Then again it was better for him to keep his distance. His track record with women was embarrassing, and he wasn't ready to add another name to the list of failed relationships. When he was working a difficult case, those women were targets of his enemies, and none had proven able to handle the pressure or remain loyal when money changed hands.Laila pulled the fleece blanket Harris had given her tighter around her body. Harris read the gesture as less from cold and more from discomfort. Was his presence making her uncomfortable because he was male? He and Laila weren't alone. The parking lot was filled with people: FBI agents and CIA investigators, along with local law enforcement. The FBI and CIA had teamed up to create a joint task force to shut down the Holy Light Brotherhood, starting with the head of the organization, Ahmad Al-Adel. When it became apparent Al-Adel had potential ties to the Qamsarian ruling family, the task force had become interested in Laila and how she could help find Al-Adel.His CIA contacts had told him that, as a Qamsarian woman, Laila had had a conservative upbringing. Not conservative the way an American defined it. Conservative as in limited contact with men, chaperones when appropriate and never being alone or having physical contact with any male apart from family. Harris was doing his best to respect those boundaries, but the extrovert in...

A killer stalks hikers on the Appalachian Trail. Who will be the next victim? The woods had always been Autumn Reed's sanctuary. But discovering the latest victim of "The Huntsman" near her campgrounds made her afraid. When FBI agent Nathan Bradshaw rented one of her cabins, she was relieved not to be alone...despite the fierce attraction between them. A lifetime of betrayals had made Autumn wary. Nathan won't allow his growing feelings for Autumn to distract him. The Huntsman killed his sister, and catching him is a sacred mission. But with Autumn fitting the profile for the Huntsman's victims, Nathan's torn between a need to protect her and to use her. The idea of losing her is turning him into a desperate man...

STEALING HER HEART... To catch an embezzler, beautiful FBI agent Lucia Huntington must work with ex-con Cash Stone... but they couldn't be more different. Because, while career-driven Lucia lives by the rules, devilishly charming Cash gleefully bends them. Unbeknownst to Lucia, Cash once did wrong for the right reason - now he claims he's working for the FBI to get on the straight and narrow. He's reliable and protective, making her yearn for the passionate bond that's always eluded her. And, as the case turns deadly, Lucia must decide whether to trust this deliciously dangerous man with her life... and her heart.  

The most lethal Colton is out for revenge in the conclusion of The Coltons of Shadow Creek! Real-estate tycoon Declan Sinclair has a score to settle with on-the-run felon Livia Colton. He can't change his tragic past, but he can demolish her onetime estate. But while coming to terms with his most hated enemy, Declan bumps heads with Livia's youngest daughter, the alluring Jade Colton... Having always felt isolated from her own family, Jade finds satisfaction in rescuing and rehabilitating Thoroughbred racehorses. And when she finds herself in Livia's crosshairs, Jade turns to Declan for comfort and protection. Can she really trust a man who's sworn to take down the entire Colton clan—once and for all?

When two spies reunite, sparks fly in the most dangerous of circumstances... Go undercover one final time to bring down a drug lord. That's all Finn Carter wants from his ex, Alex "Hyde" Flores. But the sexy spy never counted on his feelings for her roaring back to life! Hyde's made it clear she's looking for forever while he's committed to staying in the field. Things change when their mission goes awry... Hyde wants out of the black ops game, yet she can't resist one more assignment. If she lays her life and her love down one last time, she demands nothing less from Finn. As the risky takedown spirals out of control, both spies must use all their wiles to stay alive...and have a future together!

FROM STEAMY JUNGLES TO OPULENT PALACES, IT'S NONSTOP ACTION, DANGER AND PASSION FOR TWO SEXY AGENTS  To find a "dead" agent, intelligence analyst Kate Squire needs the man's brother - retired Sphere operative Connor West. His skills as a trained assassin are essential for her mission...but her immediate, raw attraction for the man himself is not.  For a loner like Connor, trekking into the jungle with a secretive killer blonde at his side is not textbook. Caught between armed insurgents and hungry predators, he fears Kate may be his deadliest threat...until their very agency turns on them. Stranded, outmanned and outgunned, Connor has nowhere else to turn. Trusting the gorgeous spy may be the only way to get them out alive....

Detective Reilly Truman has dealt with frightened witnesses before, but his gut tells him Carey Smith is on the run. And whoever she's running from terrifies her far more than any serial killer. Carey trusts no one. But Reilly is determined to protect the vulnerable beauty despite her resistance.As they hide out together at his family's secluded ranch, there's no escaping the desire simmering between them. Carey knows better than to fall for her protector. For Carey, falling in love is more terrifying than her peril. Because to get his revenge her vicious pursuer will kill anyone she cares about....About the AuthorC.J. writes romantic suspense novels for Harlequin. She loves to hear from her readers and can be contacted through her website: www.cj-miller.com. She lives in Maryland with her husband and son. C.J. believes in first loves, second chances, and happily ever after. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.After the streetlights came on, traveling alone along the empty sidewalk was a very bad idea. But Carey didn't have money for a cab and the bus didn't run at this late hour. She had no choice but to walk home. Most of the time she didn't mind being one of the nameless, faceless inhabitants of the city. City meant anonymity, avoiding eye contact, and a life so fast-paced most people didn't remember her name or when and where she moved.And Carey moved quite frequently.What she did mind were the rotten jobs she'd had to work the last eleven months. Without a social security card—or at least not one she was willing to share with her employers—the jobs were monotonous, low paying, and the hours terrible, hence her walk alone in the dark at midnight.Carey pulled her jacket tighter around her, staving off the cold and clutching her Vogue magazine to her chest, and looked over her shoulder, left then right. With the news media blasting details of the grisly serial killings committed in this neighborhood, she prayed with every step she'd make it home safely.She kept the hood of her worn gray sweatshirt tugged over her head, her baggy clothes disguising her gender, and stepped up her pace. Steam poured from the grates along the sidewalk and the streetlights that weren't broken illuminated her way. Her landmark was the twenty-four-hour convenience store located across from her apartment building, its bright white lights and red-and-green sign shining into her windows. Three more blocks.In the distance, police sirens wailed, sending a shiver up her spine. Another mugging? A murder?"Shut up. I told you to shut up," a voice bit into the night.Carey froze, her muscles tightening, every instinct she had going on the alert.Grunts and the dull thud of fists on flesh escaped from the alleyway ahead. Kicking into survival mode, she reached into her oversize jeans and grabbed her pepper spray, flattening herself against the brick building at the corner of the alley. Her heart hammered against her rib cage, threatening to reveal her presence. What should she do? Scramble into the entryway of the building and hope she went unnoticed? Turn and run in the other direction? Call for help? She didn't have a cell phone and pay phones had long since disappeared from the street. If she knocked on any of the doors along this row, would anyone answer?Probably not. This late at night, a knock on the door brought trouble.Peering into the alley, she made out the shadow of a man, the glint of his knife blade catching in the streetlight. A drug deal gone bad? Had she stumbled on a mugging? The man with the knife shifted, bringing into view another man cringing on the ground against the wall, his arm shielding his face.Her father used to tell her there came a moment in every person's life where courage was tested. Fight or flight.Rage charged in her veins. Fight. Definitely fight.Screaming, "Fire! Fire!" at the top of her lungs, hoping the word brought attention to the alley, Carey bowled herself into the attacker, blasting her pepper spray in his face. The liquid caught on her finger and burned like fire. A hit to the eyes had to be worse.The man swore at her, stumbled backward, and slammed her into the wall behind them. Her spine hit the brick with a hard crack, absorbing the impact, making her teeth clatter. She hadn't quite gathered her wits when the assailant grabbed her shoulders, throwing her to the ground like a rag doll. Her head banged into the cement, jarring her vision. The attacker wiped at his eyes, swearing every curse word she'd ever heard, swinging the knife in his hand wildly.His face was one she would never, ever forget. Dark hair, beady eyes, a hawklike nose and thin lips. Launching himself at her, he slashed his knife through the air, and she rolled, almost managing to avoid the blade. She ignored the sharp sting on her arm as his knife brushed past her. Letting out a bellow of anger, he kicked at her, missing once. He kicked again, connecting with her rib cage.Curling to protect her head from his blows, she tried to scramble away from him, still shouting, "Fire! Fire!"She'd been on the run for nearly a year and she wasn't about to die in a cold, dark alley at the hands of a knife-wielding thug.A police siren howled closer, and with a final litany of curses aimed at her, her attacker took off in the opposite direction, barreling through a line of trash cans and disappearing into the night.Carey groaned as she moved onto her hands and knees, her body battered, her left arm stinging. She set her hand over the cut and pressed down, hoping it wasn't too deep and wouldn't need stitches. Dragging herself to her feet, she limped toward the man slumped against the wall, unmoving. She touched her fingers to his neck, looking for a pulse. Her hands shook so violently, she couldn't tell if he was dead or alive. She had to get him help.A woozy feeling passed over her and she fought for focus and control. If she lost consciousness, there was no telling where she would end up. Taking several deep breaths, she moved toward the opening to the alley. Leaning against the corner of the building, hand still pressed over her arm, she cried out again.Mercifully, the flash of red-and-blue drew closer and an unmarked car with a dash light drew to a hard stop less than fifty feet from her.Two men leapt from the car, drawing their weapons. "Police. Get your hands in the air."They weren't in uniform and she quashed the impulse to run. Could she trust they were who they claimed? How could she be sure they weren't dirty and corrupt?Making a quick decision to believe them, at least for now, she held up her hands obediently, wincing as her arm and ribs cried out in protest. "Don't shoot. There's a man in the alley. He needs an ambulance." She pointed behind her with her left index finger, keeping her hands in the air.One of men raced into the alley and the second hol-stered his gun, rushing to her. She let her hands drop, the pain in her left arm unbearable.He towered over her, close enough to touch her, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating from his body. His eyes raked over her and she could scarcely draw a full breath under his scrutiny, her rib cage aching with every inhale, her heart skittering frantically. Fear clashed with her desire for comfort and the sudden urge to lean into him. She was losing it. She must be losing it if she was thinking about turning to this stranger for help of any kind.He had the slightly dangerous look of man who was a little bit reckless and lived life on his own terms. His hair was dark, worn longer than most men, and a shadow of a beard covered his jawline. With broad shoulders and slim hips, he captured her interest and that was troubling. She didn't have the time or energy to be interested in anyone."Are you hurt?" he asked, his dark eyes singeing her with concern.Carey shook her head, the lie a necessary one. The fierce cold bit into her hands, her chin stung and her arm throbbed. She turned to keep him from seeing her injury. Panic swept over her. She had to get out of here. She couldn't stay a moment longer. She'd clean and bandage her arm herself later. The convenience store sold bandages, didn't they? "I'm fine."He narrowed his gaze on her as if he didn't believe her. "What happened?""I wasn't involved. I just screamed for help.""I need you to come with me to the station."Her terror grew stronger. She needed a plan of escape. She couldn't go with him to the police station. He couldn't force her, could he? "I just want to go home." Black spots dotted her vision. She needed to lie down. Soon.He shook his head and a lock of hair fell over his forehead. "I need to take your information and a statement about what happened here."Her gaze drifted to that lock of hair, then to his eyes. Surprised by the smoldering heat she found in them, she felt the look as if he'd touched her. A warm shiver moved down her spine and her stomach tightened. This guy had charisma and raw, sexual magnetism in spades. A man with whom she wouldn't—couldn't—lower her boundaries even a fraction of an inch for fear he'd get inside.Another siren drew closer and an ambulance turned onto the street. Carey said a mental thank-you for the quick response time and hoped the man in the alley would be okay. She needed to beat feet."I didn't see anything." The lie made her ears burn. She could see in his face he didn't believe her."You saw enough to call for help."Why had she stopped and interfered? Why hadn't she kept her head down and kept walking? "I don't remember." What a terrible excuse. Dizziness swept over her and she struggled to remain standing. Home was three blocks away. She could make it."Do you have ID?" he asked."Do you?"He lifted a brow, never taking his eyes off her, then reached into his back pocket and drew out his badge."May I?" she asked, extending her right hand.Shooting her a wary look, he handed over his badge for inspection. She opened the wallet, his ID tucked inside. He wasn't a plainclothes police officer—he was a detective. He didn't look older than thirty-five. Impressive that he'd made the ranks that young. Assuming he wasn't dirty, her respect for him ratcheted up a notch. "Detective Reilly Truman. I'm sorry, Detective, but I've got to go." Carey threw the badge behind her for all she was worth and took off in the other direction. She made it two steps and then collapsed, a black hole closing off her thoughts.Reilly watched his badge sail over her shoulder. He swore under his breath, but his irritation was doused when the witness crumpled to the ground. A moment later he was at her side, rolling her onto her back and checking for a pulse.She'd passed out beneat...