Scent of Dangerby Andrea Kane
When Dylan Newport, a high-powered attorney for the company that manufactures C'est Moi -- the revolutionary fragrance that makes women irresistible to men -- finds/i>
Bestselling author Andrea Kane delivers an electrifying novel of suspense and seduction as one woman is swept up in a maelstrom of dangerous secrets, ruthless ambition, and unexpected passion.
When Dylan Newport, a high-powered attorney for the company that manufactures C'est Moi -- the revolutionary fragrance that makes women irresistible to men -- finds his boss, Carson Brooks, shot and nearly dead, he sets out to fulfill what may be the billionaire CEO's last wish: to find out whether a business deal he made twenty-eight years ago to start his company also resulted in his fathering a child.
Dylan's search leads him to Sabrina Radcliffe, a brilliant management consultant who is shocked to learn her father's identity. Yet when she meets Carson face-to-face, there's an instant connection. His appointing her interim CEO is the opportunity of a lifetime, until she becomes the target of his enemies. As suspects -- and victims -- begin to pile up, Sabrina turns to Dylan and finds that their own perfect chemistry is kindling into soul-deep desire. But first they must confront an elusive adversary intent on destroying everything -- and everyone -- they cherish.
- Pocket Star
- Publication date:
- Sales rank:
- Product dimensions:
- 4.19(w) x 6.75(h) x 1.30(d)
- Age Range:
- 14 - 18 Years
Read an Excerpt
Monday, September 5th, Labor Day, 5:45 PM
New York City
He'd been shot.
He never saw his assailant. Never heard him. Only the pop from behind. An instant later came the burning heat in his back. He pitched forward at the panorama of windows he'd been facing when the attack occurred. He broke his fall by planting a palm on the wall, bracing his weight long enough to twist around and scan his office doorway.
Empty. Whoever had done this was gone.
Pain lanced through him and weakness invaded, spreading through him in widening bands. His legs gave out. He crumpled to the carpet, trying to grab onto his desk for support. His fist clutched nothing but air.
He landed on his belly, his arms doing little to cushion the fall. Automatically, he turned his head to one side to protect his face and make breathing possible. It didn't do much good. He couldn't seem to bring in enough air. And when he did -- Christ, the smell of the oriental rug made his stomach lurch. Sickeningly sweet, like a suffocating air freshener. It was that cleaning stuff the maintenance staff used. One more whiff and he'd puke.
He shifted a bit, resorted to breathing entirely through his mouth. The rug was wet, he noted, and getting wetter, saturating through with something sticky. My blood, he thought vaguely, feeling oddly detached as the fluid continued to seep from his body.
Cobwebs of dizziness blanketed his brain. He was losing consciousness, and he knew it. But there was no way to help himself. He couldn't move. Couldn't crawl to the door. His phone...the cord was dangling from his desk...no, he couldn't reach it. He'd try to yell...what good would that do? It was Labor Day. No one was in except him and Dylan. And Dylan's office was at the opposite end of the building. Making a racket would be futile. All he could do was hope that Dylan hauled his butt back here before it was too late.
Footsteps sounded, slowing as they reached the office.
"Okay, Carson, I've got those files you wanted. We can go over them later. Right now, it's time we got into that personal matter I...Jesus Christ!" Dylan's words ended on a strangled shout. He flung aside his papers and was next to Carson Brooks in a flash, squatting down beside him. "Can you hear me?" he demanded, groping for a pulse.
"Yeah." Carson's voice sounded hoarse, faint. "Shot," he pronounced, licking his lips so he could speak. "But not...dead. Not...yet...anyway..."
"And you're not going to be." Dylan bolted to his feet. "Don't try to talk. I'll get an ambulance." He snatched the telephone, punching in 911. "This is Dylan Newport," he reported tersely. "I'm calling from Ruisseau Fragrance Corporation, 11 West 57th Street. A man's been shot." A pause. "No names, no press. Just send an ambulance, and fast. Yes, he's breathing. But it's labored. He's conscious, yeah, but barely. And he's lost a lot of blood. Looks like his lower back." Another pause. "Right. Fine. Just get that ambulance here now. Twelfth floor, back southeast corner office." He slammed down the receiver. "Lie still," he ordered Carson, squatting down again. "Don't try to move or talk. The paramedics are on their way."
"Pushy bastard..." Carson taunted lightly, his speech slurred. "I'm not...even dead...and you're...already giving...orders...."
Dylan said something in reply, but Carson couldn't make out his words. He felt as if he were floating outside himself. Was this how it felt to die? If so, it wasn't so bad. What sucked was all he was leaving undone, not to mention the big question mark in his life that would now die a mystery.
Twenty-eight years. Funny, it hadn't mattered until recently. And ironic that when he was finally about to act, the chance to do so was being snatched away.
"Dammit, Carson, stay with me!"
He would have answered Dylan. But his mind was drifting back to another time, twenty-eight years and a lifetime ago. That pivotal twist of fate had changed everything. A seed that had grown into an empire.
A seed. What an ironic metaphor.
One sperm specimen...twenty grand. No risk, no strings, nothing to lose. What a deal.
Stan had been right. It had been a deal, one that had changed his life.
And maybe created another.
Carson, you've got it all. The IQ. The looks. The youth. The charm. Go for it. If she bites, you'll make a bundle.
She had. And he had.
He'd plowed forward from that day on. Never looked back. Not till a few weeks ago. Funny, how a fiftieth birthday made a man take stock...
"Where's the victim?"
Strange voices. Pounding footsteps. The Clorox smell of institutional clothes.
"In here." Dylan's urgent reply as he led them in. "It's Carson Brooks."
His eyelids fluttered. Through a blurred haze, he made out two pair of uniformed legs hovering over him.
The paramedics squatted and began working on him.
"Heart rate a hundred fifty."
"Blood pressure a hundred over sixty."
"That's very low for Carson." Dylan's lawyer-voice. Hard-hitting. Authoritative. Daunting even to his most formidable opponents. "His pressure's usually somewhere around one-fifty over a hundred. He suffers from hypertension. He takes Dyaxide to control it."
"Any other preexisting medical conditions you know of?"
"Okay." Pressure on his back. His lids were lifted and pinpoints of light pierced his eyes. "Pupils dilated. Can you hear me, Mr. Brooks?"
"Good. Hang in there. We're just trying to slow down the bleeding."
"Respiration shallow. No obstructions."
"Start the oxygen. Set it at fifteen lpm. Let's get him on the backboard."
"Right." Two more paramedics had materialized in the room and were now rustling around with some equipment.
Idly, Carson noted the intricate pattern of the oriental carpet. The floral configurations had more red in them than before. And the color was spreading.
An oxygen mask was fitted over his nose and mouth, its elastic strap secured behind his head. "Breathe normally, Mr. Brooks. This will help."
It did -- a little. He rasped in the oxygen. The air freshener smell grew faint.
"His pulse rate's dropping. And his heart rate's up. We've got to move him -- now." Another flurry of activity, and a long board was propped against his side. "Okay, on the count of three. One, two...three."
He heard his own groan as they maneuvered him onto the board and secured his head and body. The sound reminded him he was still alive. He had to stay that way. He had to find out who'd shot him. He had to protect his legacy.
And he had to know if Ruisseau was his only legacy, or if he had another one out there -- one that was a living, breathing human being.
Determination was suffocated by the fog enveloping his brain.
"Stay with us, Mr. Brooks." The paramedics were talking again. They'd lifted him onto a stretcher and were moving. They were racing him through the lobby toward the front door. Strange, he didn't remember the elevator ride down.
"Is he conscious?" Dylan grilled.
"In and out." The glass doors blew open. Thick summer air enveloped them. Manhattan pollution. A hint of it seeped around the oxygen mask and invaded his nostrils. There were flashing lights -- police cars flanking the ambulance. One cop rushed up to the paramedics. More ran into the building.
He was transported to the ambulance. "Mount Sinai?" Dylan was asking the paramedic who'd climbed in beside him.
"Yup. We'll get over to Madison and fly straight uptown. With the siren on, we'll be there in minutes."
"I'm riding with you." Dylan was getting in even as he spoke.
"Uh, Mr. Newport..." The ambulance driver turned and cleared his throat uneasily. "The police want to talk to you about -- "
"Fine." Dylan cut him off at the knees. "Then they can meet us at Mount Sinai. I'm riding there with Mr. Brooks. That's not up for debate. And like I said, you're bringing in a 'John Doe.' No names, no press. Let's go."
There were no further arguments. Doors slammed. A siren screamed. The ambulance zoomed off.
"Heart rate's up to a hundred seventy. BP's down to ninety over fifty." The paramedic leaned closer. "Mr. Brooks, can you tell me how old you are?"
"To-o old. F-f-ifty."
His voice mingled with the scream of the siren. The traffic on Madison Avenue seemed to part like the waters of the Red Sea.
"Carson." Dylan's voice was low, very close to his ear.
"Still...alive..." he managed.
"I never doubted it. You're indestructible."
"Yeah...tell that to whoever...did this."
"Talking isn't what I have in mind for that bastard." A pause. "Did you see who it was?"
"Saw nothing...too fast...and from behind." Carson drew a slow, raspy breath. "Dylan..."
"We'll get him, Carson. Don't worry."
"Not that." A weak shake of his head. He was fading. For now or for good, he wasn't sure. But, just in case he'd be around to hear the answer, he had to try. "That situation...I was wrestling with...the confidential one..."
He swallowed, fighting the waves of darkness. "If I've got a kid...I want to know. Find out."
Copyright © 2003 by Rainbow Connection Enterprises, Inc.
Meet the Author
Andrea Kane’s psychological thriller THE GIRL WHO DISAPPEARED TWICE became an instant New York Times bestseller, the latest in a long string of smash hits. THE LINE BETWEEN HERE AND GONE is the next exhilarating installment in the Forensic Instincts series. With a worldwide following and novels published in over twenty languages, Kane is also the author of eight romantic thrillers and fourteen historical romances. She lives in New Jersey with her family.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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Kept my interest from page one and took me almost to the end to figure out who the bad guy was. Encourage others to read her books.
great book, juat like alll the others she has written
This is probably one of my new favorite books and new favorite authors!! Ms. Kane is amazing at the Romantic Suspence novels!! I thought this book was fasted pace, there was never a boring moment (in my opinion)!! Definitly recommend her!
This is one the best reads ever. I couldn't put this book down after I started it. I read a summary in a magazine and just had to have it. If you are deciding whether or not to read this, do it, you won't be disappointed. This has a hint of romance, suspense, and sexy love scenes.
The sexiest novel of the year!!It helped me make nights alone memorable!!I learned some interesting tips and moves...which will be helpful to me in the near future!
I loved it! It was both suspenseful and romantic. I couldn't put it down!
Andrea Kane's writing just keeps getting better and better. I can't wait for her next contemporary romantic suspense.
This book held my attention, but I can't say it is one of my favorites. I have read a lot of Andrea Kane books, and this one just didn't have the same type of chemistry and 'real' dialogue as some of her other books. I thought the character of Sabrina was VERY unrealistic. Who can like a character who basically has NO FLAWS? She says and does the right thing ALL THE TIME...very unrealistic, and makes all of these supposedly ingenious 'threats' to her father, Carson, to get him to do what she wants so he'll recover. Carson keeps making comments throughout the book about how Sabrina is such a 'go getter' and drives a hard bargain, etc., etc. It is pretty ridiculous because Sabrina's attempts to get her father to do what she wants are pretty transparent to me and border on the childish. On top of that, the character of Dylan is just about as bad (good) as she is. He and Sabrina get along almost perfectly from the beginning of the book. There is no obstacle for them to overcome as far as their personal relationship goes. The only good thing about this book was the actual mystery of 'who dun it' and why. I see most others have given this book really good reviews -- they obviously haven't read a really good romantic suspense book if they think this one is so great. This book is okay, but nothing more than that.
This is my first Andrea Kane but will definitaly not be my last. I read it in one day, just say there and read all day. I couldnt put it down, every page was something new. I loved it with a passion. I recomend this book to anyone who loves romances.
I love Andrea Kane's contemporary suspenses--they're action packed, well written and the characters are so real you can feel their emotions. I hope she continues in this genre.
What a book! I just finished reading my first Andrea Kane book and I am now a fast fan. Ms. Kane describes each one of her characters with such detail to the point that you get to know them intimately as well as care about what happens to them. Ms. Kane also writes one heck of a mean mystery - WOW!!! Fianlly, "Scent of Danger" is a very, very wonderful feel good story and I highly recommend it. I recently purchased another Andrea Kane's book ("No Way Out"), and I'm getting ready to settle back and dive-in! Andrea Kane is a writer who knows how to tell a 'non-stop- page turning' story. I am most definitely a fan - WHAT A BOOK!!!
On Labor Day in a New York City office building containing international leader Ruisseau Fragrance Corporation, an unknown assailant shoots CEO Carson Brooks. The only other person in the complex on this holiday is the company¿s corporate attorney Dylan Newport. Luckily, he was coming to see Carson so he is able to call 911 and save the life of the man who has been more of a father to him than he is his employer. As he lies near death, Carson asks Dylan to learn whether he ever became a father when he donated his seed in an article insemination case almost three decades ago. Dylan carries out his mentor¿s request because he knows Carson needs a kidney transplant to live as his wound has caused renal failure. He learns that Carson sired a daughter, Sabrina Radcliffe, CEO of the center for Creative Thinking and Leadership. NYPD suspect Dylan as the most likely felon. Meanwhile, he persuades Sabrina to meet Carson. As Sabrina and Dylan fall in love, he knows a killer remains on the loose, but cannot fathom the motive unless it is the product C¿est Moi that owns the perfume world. SCENT OF DANGER is an exhilarating romantic suspense combines a love story, a relationship drama, and a police procedural into a delightful tale. The prime focus is more on the impact of Carson¿s shooting on people in his sphere of influence including his ¿newly¿ found family than on the romance. Though the police especially the ¿bad¿ cop seem stereotyped, readers will relish this fast-paced tale starring delightful lead characters. Harriet Klausner