"Third book in this series is hot and sexy with a lush and inviting setting."
Reviewed by Tish Glasson
Posted February 23, 2006
Romance Series
Pepper Rossi has come to Escapade Island to recover a
stolen Monet. It's her chance to prove to her brothers that
she's a competent P.I. and would be an asset to their
fledgling security firm, Rossi Investigations. Problem is,
Cole Buchanan, who also works for her brothers, is on the
island looking for the Monet, too. Cole is Pepper's biggest competition at the firm, sent in
by her brothers to check up on her whenever she's in the
field. Competition aside, there's a white-hot sexual
chemistry between the two that's sure to be a major
distraction. Pepper knows with Cole around, her chance of
being the one to recover the painting is practically nil. Well aware of the heat between them, Cole has an outlandish
proposition: He'll let Pepper run the investigation and
call all the shots, if she promises to spend the next 24
hours in this tropical paradise exploring the hot
attraction between them. Book #3 in the 24 Hours: Island Fling miniseries, WHEN SHE
WAS BAD... is a fun read. The characters are hot and sexy,
the surroundings lush and inviting. Mix yourself a fruity
drink, add a little umbrella, stretch out, relax and escape
for awhile in this story. You won't be sorry.
SUMMARY
She should refuse. One minute, struggling P.I. Pepper
Rossi and ex-CIA agent Cole Buchanan are sharing a wild,
spontaneous kiss. The next, rough-edged Cole is
propositioning her to spend the next 24 hours exploring
all the sensual pleasures of the tropical island they're
on...with each other. She would say no, except they're in the Caribbean on a
crucial case to track down a priceless stolen painting.
She'll never prove her worth as a P.I. if Cole muscles in
on all the action. And he promises to back off — if she
promises him 24 hours to work this attraction out of their
systems. Pepper knows she should turn him down. Then again, Pepper
hasn't gotten this far by acting the way she's supposed
to....
ExcerptFriday, February 13 — 12 p.m.PEPPER SCANNED Escapade Island's small airport, but the
miracle she'd been praying for didn't occur. There was no
sign of Irene or the Monet. As per usual, her plan to
become Pepper Rossi, super sleuth, was not going well. This time she couldn't in all conscience lay the blame at
Cole Buchanan's feet. If she'd been distracted during the
past few days because she couldn't pry him loose from her
thoughts, she had no one to blame but herself. She'd
started what had happened in the penthouse suite. She'd
acted, as usual, on impulse and gotten in way over her
head. Acting without thinking things through was a flaw
that her grandmother Pendleton had initially pointed out
to her when she was about four. And Pepper knew the
accompanying lecture by heart. Trouble was, she mostly
ignored it, so she'd been a constant disappointment to her
grandmother. The end result was that she'd left Chicago.
Moving to San Francisco was a golden opportunity to start
fresh and to finally fit in with a family. But now the
same thing was threatening to happen with the Rossis. She
was screwing up, and she couldn't seem to fit in with them
either. And kissing Cole Buchanan hadn't been her only impulsive
act two nights ago. She'd also helped her aunt steal a
priceless Monet. And now she'd lost track of both. "Please, God." She repeated the prayer that she'd been
sending up on a regular basis during the commuter flight
to Escapade Island. "I promise, if you'll just let me find
Irene and recover the Monet, I'll never do another
impulsive thing in my life. Really." Quickening her pace, she threaded her way through her
fellow deplaning passengers, trying to ignore the headache
that pounded at full throttle behind her eyes. Tailing
people had been one of her strengths in the PI course
she'd taken. Still, she'd lost Irene in the crowd at the
Miami airport. She hadn't panicked because she figured
that her aunt would eventually board the connecting flight
to Escapade Island. But it was a tall man, speaking with a
French accent, wearing a beret and sporting a goatee,
who'd taken the final empty seat just before takeoff. Pepper skidded to a stop and barely missed crashing into
the couple in front of her. They'd stopped to embrace. She
wasn't sure if it was the clinch or the fact that they
were wearing long trench coats, but several other people
had slowed down or stopped to watch them. This close, she
could see that they were older than they'd seemed at a
distance — in their seventies, she figured. Well, more
power to them, she thought as she dodged to her left and
sped around the small crowd that was gathering. She had to figure out why Irene had missed the flight. Her
first thought was that her aunt had spotted her in the
Miami airport and changed her plans. But that didn't make
sense. First of all, Pepper had disguised herself in a
blond wig and jeans. Irene had never seen her in either.
Ladies never wore jeans. Grandmother Pendleton had drilled
that into her at a very early age. And jeans had been
forbidden at the exclusive boarding school she'd been sent
to for high school. It had been part of her grandmother's
attempt to turn her into a lady like her mother, but it
hadn't exactly paid off. Pepper wished that she could remember her mother. All she
really had to go on were the stories that her grandmother
had told her of how perfectly her mother had always acted
in any situation. So far, she hadn't had the courage to
pump her brothers or her father about her mother. She
would — once she felt more comfortable around them...once
she fit in. Glancing up, Pepper caught her reflection in the glass
wall that ran the length of the airport. Except for the
strappy red high-heeled sandals, she barely recognized
herself. The thin gold hoops at her ears had been a last-
minute addition to the disguise. According to her
grandmother, a true lady wore studs. The Jackie O
sunglasses and a small black duffel she'd slung over her
shoulder completed the outfit. She barely recognized
herself, so there was no way that Irene had "made" her. But even if she had, her aunt wouldn't have changed her
plans. In the letters that her aunt had sent her over the
years, Pepper had come to know her pretty well. And she'd
come to admire the fact that once Irene had a goal, she
went after it full throttle. That was how Irene had gotten
her own TV show. And when the ratings had dropped during
the first season, Irene had broken into the mayor's
mansion to prove that even the "best" security system had
its flaws. If Irene was hell-bent on giving the Monet to
Butch Castellano on Valentine's Day, which was tomorrow,
she'd let nothing and no one stand in her way. Pepper was holding on to that thought. On the bright side,
Evan Atwell's mother had decided not to report the theft
to the authorities. That would have meant canceling the
charity auction, and she didn't want to do that until she
had to. Too much time and planning had gone into it, she'd
claimed. Instead, Althea Atwell was going to give Rossi
Investigations until Sunday, the day of the charity
auction, to recover the painting. She wanted the Monet
back, and she expected the team at RI to get it. There'd
been the threat of a law suit if they weren't able to
produce the Monet by Sunday. But even without a lawsuit,
if the news was made public that the painting had been
stolen while Rossi Investigations was on the job, the bad
publicity might ruin her brothers' fledgling business. Luke and Matt hadn't spoken one word of reproach to her,
but they'd been clearly disappointed. They'd encouraged
her to take a few days off. The subtext was that they
didn't want her help, and she could hardly blame them. She hadn't told anyone — neither the police nor her
brothers — about Irene's involvement. If Luke and Matt had
known about it, they would have stopped her aunt from
flying to Escapade Island to give the painting to Butch.
As much as Pepper loved her brothers, she hadn't been able
to betray her aunt. But she hadn't told Irene she was
following her to the island either. She wasn't as sold on
Butch Castellano's born-again honesty as her aunt was, and
one way or another she was going to make sure that the
painting got back to San Francisco by Sunday night. And
then — she shot a glance heavenward — she was definitely
going to mend her impulsive ways. Striding into the main room of the airport, Pepper glanced
at her watch again and for the first time the date
registered. Her stomach plummeted, and her headache
accelerated into the chaotic rhythm of kettle drums. Today was Friday the thirteenth. No wonder she'd lost her aunt. If her luck went the way it
usually did, Irene's disappearance was just the first
thing that would go wrong today. In her experience, bad
luck always came in threes. When someone plowed into her from behind, Pepper stumbled
and felt herself grabbed and steadied. "Sorry, ma'am. You all right?" Turning, she found herself looking up into the eyes of a
tall man wearing a cowboy hat. "Yes. I'm fine." "Glad to hear it." Then he touched the brim of his hat. "My lady's getting away from me." Stepping around her, he
lengthened his stride, and Pepper caught a glimpse of a
woman beating a fast path to the exit sign. It occurred to her then that almost everyone on the flight
had been part of a couple, including the trench coat
couple who'd stopped traffic. Hardly surprising, she
thought. On the Internet, Escapade Island advertised
itself as the perfect vacation spot for lovers, and
tomorrow was Valentine's Day. The flight attendants on the
plane from Miami had been really into the spirit of the
holiday. There'd been streamers and plump little cupids
decorating the cabin, and they'd even passed out chocolate
hearts wrapped in red and pink foil. As usual, she was without a current lover. In fact, she'd
been without one for some time. Of course, she'd nearly
managed to catapult herself out of the celibate state when
she'd kissed Cole two nights ago. But she wasn't going to think about that — much — until
she'd recovered the Monet. Before that, her last serious and intimate relationship
with a man had been in college, and it had ended when
Bobby Caswell had graduated a year ahead of her and gone
back home to marry his high school sweetheart. She'd
thought she'd been in love. And Bobby had definitely been
in love — with another woman. Naturally, she'd been a little man shy after that. In
Philadelphia, she'd gone out with a string of eligible
bachelors that her grandmother had selected, but she'd
never quite clicked with any of them. Those relationships
had rarely lasted beyond the first date. And even though
she'd gone out with Evan Atwell for almost six months,
their relationship had never progressed beyond the
platonic stage. Of course, she'd broken things off with him at the three-
month stage, but for some reason he'd still wanted
to "date" her. She thought it had something to do with the
fact that his mother had approved of her, and he wanted
some time to break the news to her. And truth be told,
continuing to date Evan had given her a shield against
Cole. As long as she was officially dating Evan, she
hadn't had to face what she was going to do about what she
felt for him. It didn't take a super sleuth to recognize a pattern in
her history with men. It was the history of her life. She
never measured up. As a result, she was sex starved. That was the only explanation she could see for the way
she'd responded so...explosively to Cole Buchanan's kiss.
In the past day and a half, she'd given it some careful
thought — even though she'd vowed not to think about it —
and she'd figured it out. Cole had wanted her. It was only
natural that she'd be attracted to that. And she'd wanted
him. She'd known that from that very first moment in her
father's kitchen. So the explosion had occurred. She'd
aced her chemistry classes, so she should have foreseen it
and been more prepared. She would be if he ever kissed her
again. Pepper frowned as she dashed around yet another strolling
couple. Dammit, she was thinking about that kiss again. In
the last day and a half, she hadn't been able to get it
out of her mind. Nor could she stop fantasizing about what
might have happened if Cole hadn't discovered that the
Monet was gone. Grimly, she pushed those fantasies out of her mind.
Reality check. Number one, the Monet was missing. Two, her
aunt was missing. Three, she had to recover both of them.
Kissing Cole Buchanan was not on her current to-do list. Not that the opportunity for another kiss was going to
present itself anytime soon. She hadn't even seen Cole
since that night. He hadn't been at the office yesterday,
hadn't tried to contact her. Obviously, the experience hadn't been memorable for Cole
at all. Perhaps that flood of desire was a common
occurrence for him. He was probably used to getting swept
away like that. Or maybe the experience hadn't been
mutual. Perhaps he hadn't been swept away. Damn. She stepped out of the stream of passengers and
steadied herself against a nearby wall. Just thinking
about that kiss was all it took for the sensations to come
streaming back. She pressed the heel of her hand against
her heart to still the hammering, and she drew in a deep
breath as heat flooded her body and melted her bones. No
man had ever made her feel so wanton, so weak,
so...incredible. And she wanted so much to feel that way again — to see
where those sensations would lead. Pressing her hand to
her stomach, she concentrated on breathing. Thank heavens
she'd gotten away from San Francisco. If she'd run into
Cole again, she wasn't sure she could keep her impulsive
side — that part of her she'd learned she must control —
in check. Stop thinking about it. Pepper drew in another deep
breath, stiffened her spine, and pushed herself away from
the wall. Information. That's what she needed. Knowledge
was power. Irene had missed the flight, so she'd be on the
next one to the island. If nothing else, her aunt was
resourceful. Plus, she'd committed grand larceny for an
old boyfriend, so she would hardly let a missed flight get
in the way of giving the Monet to him. Striding through an archway, Pepper scanned the main room
of the airport. It was high-ceilinged and open to the air
on one side. Here and there cement planters bulged with
huge red flowers and smaller orange and pink ones. Pepper
was abruptly and completely charmed. She didn't think
she'd seen either species of flower before, and she was
sure she hadn't experienced the scent — something between
the exotic aroma of gardenia and the innocence of lily of
the valley.
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