After a murder at a voodoo ceremony in a charming New Orleans bistro, three street cops, Jordan O’Reilly, Liam O’Reilly, and Zachary Doucet, have a personal stake in solving the case. But if they meddle in the investigation, they may get thrown off the force—or worse.
Part 1: Jordan
Jordan O’Reilly is first to take the heat. While moonlighting with a security company, he’s assigned to protect Camille DuPree, the restaurant owner. Six years ago, he and Camille were in love, and each thinks the other broke it off. Now they’re thrown back together and must cope with their shattered relationship as well as the murder investigation and an ugly voodoo charm that shows up on Camille’s doorstep.
New Orleans Magic: Jordan…Liam…Zachary…each of these compelling stories ends with an HEA for the hero and heroine. But only the full set will finally get to the bottom of the murder mystery. Be sure to read them all!
After her interrogation by the Police Detective Yancy, Camille realized that Jordan was studying her carefully. “You’re exhausted. Let me give you a ride home,” he said.
She pulled herself up straighter, determined not to let old feelings lull her into making any mistakes. Marching down the steps, she headed toward the street. “I’ll get a cab.”
He caught up with her and steered her toward the parking lot. “The hell you will!”
He’d been polite and professional up till that moment. Suddenly his words and the tone of his voice reminded her of another facet of the old Jordan O’Reilly.
He’d been angry about a lot of things back when they were in high school. He was angry now. Still, when he turned her toward him, she didn’t resist. She was shaky from the mean-spirited grilling Yancy had given her. Shakier still from the close contact with Jordan, from the immediacy of this man looming over her in the early-morning darkness.
When they were teenagers, she hadn’t known what to expect from Jordan O’Reilly. He could change from cold to hot in the blink of an eye. She saw that in his face tonight. There was a charged moment when his green eyes bored into her blue ones, and she knew for certain that whatever had sparked between them all those years ago hadn’t gone away. The knowledge gave her a jolt of satisfaction.
Still, he was older now. More controlled. Maybe he was silently asking her to tell him no. But that one simple syllable was beyond her power. Not when he was so close, so vital.
In unconscious invitation, she tipped her head to a more convenient angle, her lips parted.
She heard him swear. Heard him mutter something she didn’t quite catch. Perhaps it was I’ve been wanting to do this all evening.
Or was that only what she wanted to hear?
As if the voodoo gods had brought her soul mate back to her on this fateful night, he lowered his head to hers. The first mouth-to-mouth contact was like a jolt of electricity, two opposite forces clashing, then merging, settling. Coming to terms.
It had been six years since she’d felt such a surge. Yet those six years were now wiped away as though they’d never existed. She knew only the heady taste of him, the taste of raw maleness and potency and hunger. She felt the strength of his arms, the heat of his body as he gathered her in.