Filthy Wicked Games (9 page)

And once they were safe and sound, she would leak Clay’s confession and pray to God he went to jail for the rest of his miserable life.

Harley burst into the alley, the servant door creaking loudly behind her, and raced across the cobblestones. She was so focused on reaching a main thoroughfare and getting a taxi to the airport that she didn’t notice the tall man in the black jacket until she was halfway down the block.

Thankfully, the man was on the phone and the dull roar of early morning traffic covered the sound of her footsteps. He didn’t seem to hear her racing up the alleyway and when she recognized his profile, she had enough time to duck behind one of the false pillars on the building’s edifice before he turned, nodding to a man in a brown flat cap emerging from the bakery behind him.

Harley flattened herself against the cold stones, blood turning to ice in her veins.

She knew the man in the cap. It had been nearly two years since she’d been in the same room with Marlowe—or Liam, his right-hand man—but his wasn’t the kind of face you forgot. It was the kind of face that turned dreams into nightmares and assured you all of your carefully thought-out plans were about to turn to shit in your hands.

Marlowe had found her. He must know that she and Jasper were hiding in this apartment building and it was only dumb luck that she hadn’t woken up to him standing over her bed with a gun in his hand.

Harley squeezed her fingers into fists at her sides, thoughts racing as she tried to figure out what to do next. She was about to make a break for the other end of the alley—to see if she could slip by whomever Marlowe had stationed there without being caught—when the soft
whup-whup-whup
sound thrumming below the traffic din became a louder
whomp-whomp-whomp
.

She looked up, catching sight of a small black helicopter hovering above the skyline, slowing as it neared their corner of the city and realized several things at once—

Clay and Jasper weren’t on their way to the airport; they were up on the roof, waiting for that helicopter to come carry them away.

Marlowe might not know his prey was on the run now, but it wouldn’t take him long to figure it out—the penthouse was the only apartment with access to the roof or the landing pad.

She had maybe two minutes to get up to the roof and warn Clay and Jasper before all hell broke loose.

Not wasting another second, Harley darted out of her hiding place, hugging the shadows as she moved swiftly and quietly back the way she’d come.

She slipped into the servant’s entrance unseen, locked the door behind her, and started up the stairs at a sprint, praying harder than she’d prayed in years that she would make it to the roof in time.

W
arning
: This book is a hot and heavy, non-stop, panty-soaking thrill ride that will leave you breathless.

N
o one betrays
Harley Mason and lives to tell about it. For the first time in years, Harley craves revenge—the darker and dirtier, the better—but she has no choice but to put aside her pain and work with the man who deceived her. A precious life depends on it.

H
is wicked friend
, his sweetest enemy—Clay realizes too late that he doesn’t want to live without Harley. As they race against the clock to thwart a drug lord, he vows to do whatever it takes to prove his love, even if it means making the ultimate sacrifice.

S
he needs his help
.

H
e needs her heart
.

A
nd neither of
them is giving up until they find their crazy beautiful forever.

* *
C
razy Beautiful Forever
is the third and final installment in the Dirty Twisted Love romance series. It should be read after parts one and two.* *

F
irst and foremost
, thank you to my readers. Every email and post on my Facebook page has meant so much. I can’t express how deeply grateful I am for the chance to entertain you.

M
ore big thanks
to my Street Team, who I am convinced are the sweetest, funniest, kindest group of people around. You inspire me and keep me going and I’m not sure I’d be one-third as productive without you. Big tackle hugs to all.

M
ore thanks
to Kara H. for organizational excellence and helping me get the word out. (No one would have heard of the books without you!) Thanks to the Facebook groups who have welcomed me in, to the bloggers who have taken a chance on a newbie, and to everyone who has taken time out of their day to write and post a review.

A
nd of course
, many thanks to my husband, who not only loves me well but also supports me in everything I do. I don’t know how I got so lucky, man, but I am hanging on tight to you.

I
love reading
your thoughts about the books and your review matters. Reviews help readers find new-to-them authors to enjoy. So if you could take a moment to leave a review letting me know your favorite part of the story—nothing fancy required, even a sentence or two would be wonderful—I would be deeply grateful.

L
ili Valente has slept
under the stars in Greece, eaten dinner at midnight with French men who couldn’t be trusted to keep their mouths on their food, and walked alone through Munich’s red light district after dark and lived to tell the tale.

T
hese days
you can find her writing in a tent beside the sea, drinking coconut water and thinking delightfully dirty thoughts.

Lili loves to hear from her readers.

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