Farragut Square is a small plot of real estate in the heart of Washington, D.C.’s financial district. A crime took place there eight years ago and remains unsolved. Lindsay McCallister is searching for her missing sister. She swaps her tutu for a policeman’s standard blue uniform and her ballet shoes for a 9mm Glöck.
She’s about to meet the one man capable of exposing her secrets and ruining her mission, Sergeant Joseph Dragani, the newly appointed head of the Unsolved Mystery Task Force.
One evening, Lindsay finds Douglas Bly, hiding in her closet. He’s an escaped murderer who not only kidnapped her sister, but also has a perverse obsession with virgins.
But Joey Dragani, the street-smart detective, has other plans for Lindsay and is not about to let this murderer strike again…
Lindsay had mentally prepared herself to receive the usual low-man-on-the-totem-pole teasing when she walked through the detectives' squad room, but she was not prepared for what occurred. All the men stood, shook her hand and wished her luck with the task force. She grinned. They obviously had heard the same rumor about Sergeant Dragani.
As a patrol officer and a detective, Dragani was credited with a high arrest record. He'd be a tough taskmaster. She looked at the ceiling. Here we go again. She knew these seasoned detectives were apprehensive, not only about her abilities as a rookie to handle the new position, but also whether or not she could meet the demands the sergeant might expect of her. They had all been through boot camp.
She hadn't been prepared for their attempt at humor, not to mention their placatory attitudes, but nothing on earth could have prepared her for what stood in the doorway, blocking her entrance to the task force office.
Sergeant Joseph—”the fire-breathing dragon”—Dragani. Six feet, two inches of pure male brawn.
She'd even heard he had a brain. Imagine.
From the ground up she returned his assiduous top-to-bottom assessment of her and took in every square foot of him.
Inch by inch.
Her determination refused to allow him to intimidate her. If he had been any taller, she'd have blushed and the jellyfish under the brave façade she fought to hold together would have been exposed.
Educated, streetwise, arrogant (so she'd heard), and drop-dead handsome. How did God expect her to work with him ? She took in a deep silent breath without moving a muscle, braved another step toward him and smiled.
“Good morning, Sergeant.” Her strong audible voice surprised even her, and for the first time in her life, she experienced how it felt to be weak in the knees