The Gangster’s Woman
Now that prohibition was over, FBI agent Michael Flynn hoped to enjoy the quiet life and a chance to finally concentrate on finding his best friend’s sister. He’d been in love with her since he first laid eyes on her picture. Unfortunately, the more he searched the more he realized she wasn’t just missing. Eryn was hiding from one of the most notorious gangsters around. One who wouldn’t rest until he knew she was dead.
Eryn O’Malley had been moving around for years, doing whatever legal, or illegal job she could find to survive. No time for romance or a normal life. A one night stand with a handsome man at the county fair seemed like just the ticket to escape for a moment from her troubled life. However, finding out he was a G-man wasn’t part of the plan. Now he was on her trail. Whether to arrest or rescue her, she wasn’t sure, and she couldn’t wait around to find out. If he caught her, would he forgive her checkered past or would he always think of her as the gangster’s woman?
The newly engaged woman’s laughter drew his notice again, and he took the well-worn photograph from his wallet. The photo of John’s sister, Eryn, was always with him. What a beauty. He’d willingly sell his soul to see her pretty face staring back at his. But, there was no trace. It was the one unsolved case that kept him awake at night.
“That your gal?” The delicious smell of the steak instantly had his taste buds salivating as the waitress placed his meal on the table.
“Thank you.” Michael picked up his fork, and the girl picked up the picture. He cut off a piece of the tender meat and took a bite. It melted in his mouth. The juices flowed on his tongue. He closed his eyes and muffled a moan of culinary pleasure.
“Hey, I know her.” She piped in.
His eyes flew open. The meat lodged in his throat and sent him into a coughing fit. The waitress slapped his back before handing him a glass of water.
“You okay there, fella?” She waited. A concerned look was on her face. Several customers turned to look before returning to their meal.
“Uh,” he coughed again, “yes. What did you say?” He managed to speak before dabbing a napkin to his watering eyes.
“I asked if you were okay.”
“No, about the picture.” She still held it, forgotten, in her hand.
Studying it again, she tilted her head and pointed to the painting above the fireplace. “It looks like her.”
He stood, retrieved the photo from her hand, and made his way to where she motioned. Adrenaline spiked with every step. The feature of the restaurant’s stone fireplace was a painting of a striking redhead, nude from the waist up. The resemblance was uncanny. It was her. It had to be.
The waitress had followed and stood beside him, a hand resting on one hip. “Sure looks like her in the face, can’t say for sure about the rest of her.” She giggled. Michael grabbed her wrist when she turned to leave. “Who’s the woman in the painting?”
She winced, and he released the tight grip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ve been searching for her everywhere.”
He took a seat on the bed, crossed an ankle over the other, and rested his back against the cheap headboard. Interlocking his fingers behind his head, he observed the woman in his room. Her back was toward him as she poured the liquor in the glasses.
The woman could be a movie star or one of those girls in the magazines who held a soda pop in an ad. Tall and elegant, nice round ass, and slender calves and ankles. If she was indeed John’s sister and he slept with her, there would be hell to pay, but it would be worth every glorious second. A wolf call whistle left his lips.
Eryn turned, a glass in each hand, and a slight tilt to her head. “Now, what was that for?”
“Just enjoying the view.” He winked.
“Well, then I better get closer so you don’t strain your eyes.” She took a few steps closer and handed him his drink. Damn, she was a pistol. If he didn’t calm down soon, he’d be firing off a shot of a different kind.
Eryn strolled to the other side of the bed and joined him on it. Her slender legs crossed out in front of her. He swallowed and his fingers itched to slide down that silky skin.
“Cheers.” The click of her glass touched his and he forced his eyes from her legs to the graceful fingers holding her drink.
“Bottoms up.” He downed his in one sip. Eryn took two sips and licked the rim of her glass. This time a groan escaped his mouth and he took her glass and placed both of them on the bedside table.
“Don’t want another drink?” Eryn’s gaze dipped to her hands and then back to his face.
“No, I’d rather do this.” To hell with John, he was kissing his sister.
His fingers framed her face. Her skin soft as velvet and her full lips waiting to be kissed. They didn’t have long to wait. His mouth settled on hers. She tasted sweeter than candy. The hint of alcohol lingered and made for a stimulating mix. Nipping at her lower lip, Eryn moaned and threaded her fingers through his hair. Michael deepened the kiss and echoed her appreciation.
It killed him to break the contact, but he did. Her green eyes smoldered like emeralds in the dim room light. “Stay the night with me.”
“Aye, I will,” she whispered. Her response was in an accent and words so familiar to her brother’s. He could already feel the beating John would be giving him for making love to his sister, but it would be worth it.
Michael slid down the bed and drew her across his chest. Her auburn curls framed her heart-shaped face. Auburn curls? It finally dawned on him that she didn’t even know she had a niece that looked identical to her. Taking in a deep breath, he slid his fingers through her hair. “I always had a thing for redheads, but I’ve never slept with one.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle with you.” She ribbed.
He burst out laughing. “You are something else, doll.”
“You have no idea.” Eryn promised and lowered her lips to his.
About the Author
Ginger Ring is an eclectic, hat-loving Midwestern girl with a weakness for cheese, dark chocolate, and the Green Bay Packers. She loves reading, playing with her cats, watching great movies, and has a quirky sense of humor. Publishing a book has been alifelong dream of hers and she is excited to share her romantic stories with you. Her heroines are classy, sassy and in search of love and adventure. When Ginger isn't tracking down old gangster haunts or stopping at historical landmarks, you can find her on the backwaters of the Mississippi River fishing with her husband.
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Books by Ginger Ring
The Gangster’s Kiss myBook.to/TheGangstersKiss
The Gangster’s Woman myBook.to/TheGangstersWoman
Red Roses, Black Orchids http://mybook.to/RedRosesBlackOrchids