Meet the hero of Kidnapped Hearts

Meet the hero of Kidnapped Hearts before he meets the heroine.

FBI agent Jake Gibson

Kidnapped Hearts buy now:


Evernight Publishing


Barnes & Noble

The plane ride to Washington, D.C. from California a has my nerves on edge. I rush into the first coffee shop I can find once I leave the airport. Standing in line, I finger comb my hair and wipe the mascara smudge from beneath my eyes that I know is there when a man wearing a jean jacket glances my way.

Blue eyes stare in my direction as he sips the coffee. I scrape my teeth across my lower lip, trying to push the way the hope that he might possibly be looking at me, and seek out who might be standing behind me.

No one’s there.

A flush of heat rushes from my stomach to my neck, my jean shorts that hit mid-thing feel too short, and my panties are giving me a wedgie. I resist the urge to yank them out and step closer to the counter. Two customers stood between the needed caffeine and me.

The hair on the back of my neck rises. I rub my chin against my shoulder and glimpse in the direction of the man with incredible eyes. The corner of his mouth rises and his intense gaze locks with mine.

My heart swoons.

His jean-cladded legs are stretched out in front of him with ankles crossed. I shift my gaze and catch his hands loosely folded in his lap as my gaze lands on his chest the jacket leaves exposed. I can see the pull in the material of his shirt as it stretches to cover his muscles.

I swallow. My wedgie becomes more irritating as a tug deep in my belly filled with desire grabs my attention.

Oh boy.

My turn in line, I set my purse on the counter and dig out my wallet as I attempt to be calm, cool, and collected while in a ten-foot radius of the man that has my pulse racing.

“Would you like a Hazelnut Macchiato?” the guy asked.

“No, thank you. I’d rather have a French vanilla latte.”

I hand the man my money and my arm hits my purse.


My purse and contents spread across the floor.

The heat on my face escalates as masculine hands pick up my lipstick, compact…

No not my tampon.

I bend down quickly to grab the humiliating object and his hand covers mine.

I stare at our hands, unable to move.

Warmth touches my shoulder and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. Why I’m acting so skittish baffles me, but I am and I can’t control it.

“Are you okay?”

My senses become hyperactive. His breath smells of coffee and pure masculine. The fresh clean scent of his cologne draws me toward him and I lift my chin, meeting his eyes. “I am. Thank you for helping me,” I say sounded more confident than I feel.

He doesn’t move. Instead, his gaze bores into mine, and my breath hitches. Not only are his eyes blue, they sparkle. Five o’clock in the afternoon and the man was true to form. His shadow spread across his face and I wanted to rub my hands across it. Better yet, I wanted feel his whiskers across my neck.

My eyes widened. I can’t believe I’m having these thoughts about a stranger.

“Let me help you.”

He grasped my hand after I shoved the last of my things inside my purse and helped me to my feet. My wedgie made its presence known again as I move toward the counter to get my coffee, leaving him looking at his cell. I wiggle my butt, pull on the hem of my shorts, and reach for the cup.

A low chuckle drifts toward me and I twist toward him.

He’d removed his jacket. It now hung over his arm and his fingers were shoved in his pockets as he waited for me.

He’s waiting for me.

My breath is yanked away and my heart pounds in my ears as his intentions sink into my mind.

“Would you like to find a place outside to sit?” he asked.

I take him in. Relaxed stance, eyes gentle with an intoxicating smile that pulls me toward him. “Yes,” I say on a sigh as I stop in front of him.

“Excuse me,” the cashier says, “I forgot to tell you. We’re having a give-a-way. All you need to do is put the type of coffee I mentioned to you earlier on this form and don’t forget your email address. Without it, we can’t contact you. There’s a place at the bottom of this page for you to put your information.”

I take the sheet from him and ponder what the man had said in the midst of all the commotion.

“Hey, look,” the swoon worthy guy reaches over my shoulder and points to the paper. “You could win a kindle and free books.

“I haven’t won anything before.” I say ignoring the goose bumps running through my body.

A guttural sound escapes him and he grabs my hand, leading me through the door to an outdoor patio. Surprising, it was vacant of occupants.

He faces me, his shoulder brushing my arm. The air turns thick and the pulse in his neck quickens. My body is on full alert. I want this, him.

I step back, hitting the wall, out of sight from passersby. He notices my signal, slides a hand into my hair, and cups my face, tilting my mouth up. His lips touched mine. A jolt of electricity runs through me, making my entire body sizzle. Desire engulfs me and I lean forward to feel breast against his warmth as he pressed himself into me and deepened the kiss.

By the time he eased away, I was breathing too fast and my skin felt overheated.

With dark blue eyes and a invigorating smile, he whispers, “My name is Jake Gibson.”

What more of Jake? Have you read Kidnapped Hearts? If so or even if you haven’t, check out the Jake and his gal’s interview.



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