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Sparks fly when Nick Marshal, a handsome attorney, meets Abigail Carlisle, a beautiful ghost from 1912 who is trapped in his office building. Can he help her solve her murder and come back to life?
When a beautiful woman claiming to be a ghost from 1912 appears in Nick Marshal’s new office and begs for help in solving her murder, he’s intrigued enough to consider her plea. A scandal that rocked Hollywood almost destroyed his law practice, so taking on a client who insists she’s dead seems a good way to refresh his career. The more history he uncovers, the deeper he falls for the ghost. Abigail Carlisle believes Nick is her heart’s true desire, but how can happily ever after happen when she’s already dead?
**excerpt**
“Tell me how am I supposed to discover who killed you if it happened all those years ago? I would think the person who killed you is more than likely dead by now,” Nick asked.
Abigail lowered her gaze to the ground. “That is a good question, but finding my killer is the only way I can cross over. I suppose you would have to use your investigative skills to help me.”
Nick drummed his fingers on the desk and studied her. In all his years practicing law, not one of his cases had sent excitement flowing through his veins like this, or made him feel so alive. If he could take on this case and solve the nearly one-hundred-year-old murder, it would definitely boost his reputation.
Wait, what am I thinking? Even if he did solve her case, who would believe him? Nick knew people would simply think he’d gone crazy like his mother. After all, Miss Carlisle was a ghost—wasn’t she?
He loosened his tie. After releasing the first button at his neck, he cleared his throat. “How about I start using my investigative skills now?” He pushed away from his desk and stood.
Her body stiffened, and she held his gaze.
“Tell me one more thing, Miss Carlisle. What if I were to touch you?” He reached his hand toward her face, stopping just a few inches away. “If you are a ghost, I wouldn’t be able to feel anything. Am I correct?”
She nodded but kept her eyes on his hand.
He hated to admit that he wanted to touch her more than anything, and not just to find out if she were a ghost. As she’d told her story, her green eyes hinted of a great sadness, and he wanted to comfort her. And since she would never be his client, he saw no reason not to flirt with her. Suddenly, Nick frowned. What if Travis and Steve were really behind this prank? Was this a test? Were they trying to see if he could withstand such a charming woman?
“What do you think will happen if I touch you, Miss Carlisle?”
She swallowed and backed up until she came to the edge of his desk, then sat. “I—I—don’t know. So far, nobody has been able to touch me.”
“Have people walked through you?”
“Yes, but I feel nothing, not even the whisper of a breeze.”
His hand was almost there, close to her cheek. He wanted to cup her face and sweep his thumb across her skin. His hand inched closer and her jaw tightened.
* * * *
Abigail held her breath and closed her eyes, focusing on feeling his hand. She had to feel him! For so many years, loneliness had filled her heart because of her uncertain future. Nicholas Marshal must be the one to save me from the unknown.
As he drew near to her, his spicy, masculine cologne created a sensation inside her unlike anything she’d experienced before. Between that and his powerfully good looks, her stomach was in a constant flutter around him. Still, she’d met too many men in her lifetime that looked like perfection but were far from it. By now she knew the true beauty of a person came from within. She would watch carefully to see if Mr. Marshall was as beautiful on the inside as he was on the outside.
“No . . . way,” he muttered in amazement. “I can’t believe this.”
**excerpt**
“Tell me how am I supposed to discover who killed you if it happened all those years ago? I would think the person who killed you is more than likely dead by now,” Nick asked.
Abigail lowered her gaze to the ground. “That is a good question, but finding my killer is the only way I can cross over. I suppose you would have to use your investigative skills to help me.”
Nick drummed his fingers on the desk and studied her. In all his years practicing law, not one of his cases had sent excitement flowing through his veins like this, or made him feel so alive. If he could take on this case and solve the nearly one-hundred-year-old murder, it would definitely boost his reputation.
Wait, what am I thinking? Even if he did solve her case, who would believe him? Nick knew people would simply think he’d gone crazy like his mother. After all, Miss Carlisle was a ghost—wasn’t she?
He loosened his tie. After releasing the first button at his neck, he cleared his throat. “How about I start using my investigative skills now?” He pushed away from his desk and stood.
Her body stiffened, and she held his gaze.
“Tell me one more thing, Miss Carlisle. What if I were to touch you?” He reached his hand toward her face, stopping just a few inches away. “If you are a ghost, I wouldn’t be able to feel anything. Am I correct?”
She nodded but kept her eyes on his hand.
He hated to admit that he wanted to touch her more than anything, and not just to find out if she were a ghost. As she’d told her story, her green eyes hinted of a great sadness, and he wanted to comfort her. And since she would never be his client, he saw no reason not to flirt with her. Suddenly, Nick frowned. What if Travis and Steve were really behind this prank? Was this a test? Were they trying to see if he could withstand such a charming woman?
“What do you think will happen if I touch you, Miss Carlisle?”
She swallowed and backed up until she came to the edge of his desk, then sat. “I—I—don’t know. So far, nobody has been able to touch me.”
“Have people walked through you?”
“Yes, but I feel nothing, not even the whisper of a breeze.”
His hand was almost there, close to her cheek. He wanted to cup her face and sweep his thumb across her skin. His hand inched closer and her jaw tightened.
* * * *
Abigail held her breath and closed her eyes, focusing on feeling his hand. She had to feel him! For so many years, loneliness had filled her heart because of her uncertain future. Nicholas Marshal must be the one to save me from the unknown.
As he drew near to her, his spicy, masculine cologne created a sensation inside her unlike anything she’d experienced before. Between that and his powerfully good looks, her stomach was in a constant flutter around him. Still, she’d met too many men in her lifetime that looked like perfection but were far from it. By now she knew the true beauty of a person came from within. She would watch carefully to see if Mr. Marshall was as beautiful on the inside as he was on the outside.
“No . . . way,” he muttered in amazement. “I can’t believe this.”
