Chosen Bride

By Linzi Basset

In Chosen Bride, Book 2 of The Bride Series, FBI Agent Mark Farrow chose the fiery redhead florist, London Sanders, as his bride and believe me ... the hunt was on!

London was once bitten, twice shy.

London Sanders had no intention of falling into the same trap again. Love wasn't an option now. Besides, Mark Farrow was trouble with a capital T, not to mention annoying and self-righteous—but damn, he was hot with his bulging muscles ... something that made her ovaries burst out in song and dance every time he was near. Why deny herself some ... er ... pleasure, right? Soooo ... she offered him a compromise.

London Sanders was his chosen bride and he went at her with all guns blazing.

Mark Farrow had it all. Born from old money and with a heart of gold, he was every woman’s dream. Only he preferred to ... er ... play the field and wasn’t looking for love. That is, until the cheeky redhead came across his path and changed his destiny. He had no intention of allowing a misplaced broken heart—because he didn't believe she'd truly loved the man who'd treated her like dirt—stand in his way of getting what he wanted.

Would Mark be satisfied with a friends with benefits arrangement ... and if so ... for how long? Was London just setting herself up for heartache ... again?

Only time would tell.

Editor's note:
I'm jealous of London. I want a Mark. As usual, Basset intertwines an exceptional love story—with EXCEPTIONALLY hot scenes—with a twist of crime and suspense. Tender, romantic, with just a dash of jealousy and angst, as well as a healthy dose of erotic candy for the eyes, and Chosen Bride will easily become one of those books you want to read again and again just for the good feels.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Linzi Basset
• Release date: Aug 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005180027

Linzi Basset

“Isn’t it a universal truth that it’s our singular experiences and passion, for whatever thing or things, which molds us all into the individuals we become? Whether it's hidden in the depths of our soul or exposed for all to see?” Linzi Basset is a South African born animal rights supporter with a poet’s heart, and she is also a bestselling fiction writer of suspense filled romance erotica books; who as the latter, refuses to be bound to any one sub-genre. She prefers instead to stretch herself as a storyteller which has resulted in her researching and writing historical and even paranormal themed works. Her initial offering: Club Alpha Cove, a BDSM club suspense series released back in 2015, reached Amazon’s Bestseller list, and she has been on those lists ever since. Labelling her as prolific is a gross understatement as just a few short years later she has now been published forty-one times; a total which fails to take into account the three other published works of her alter ego: Isabel James who co-authors—nor does it include the five additional new works marked for imminent release. “I write from the inside out. My stories are both inside me and a part of me so it can be either pleasurable to release them or painful to carve them out. I live every moment of every story I write. So, if you're looking for spicy and suspenseful, I'm your girl... woman... writer... you know what I mean!" Linzi believes that by telling stories in her own voice, she can better share with her readers the essence of her being: her passionate nature; her motivations; and her wildest fantasies. She feels every touch as she writes, every kiss, every harsh word uttered, and this to her is the key to a never-ending love of writing. Ultimately, all books by Linzi Basset are about passion. To her, passion is the driving force of all emotion; whether it be lust, desire, hate, trust, or love. This is the underlying message contained in her books. Her advice: “Believe in the passions driving your desires; live them; enjoy them; and allow them to bring you happiness.” Follow Linzi everywhere: https://linktr.ee/LinziBasset

Book preview

Author’s Note

Dear Reader,

The Bride series are the stories of gorgeous and successful Alpha Males and the sassy women they choose as brides. Although some characters will appear in other books in the series, all of them are standalone novels.

In Chosen Bride, Book 3, we meet FBI agent, Mark Farrow and London Sanders, who was on a quest for a new beginning.

London was once bitten, twice shy. 

London Sanders had no intention of falling into the same trap again. Love wasn't an option now. Besides, Mark Farrow was trouble with a capital T, not to mention annoying and self-righteous—but damn, he was hot with his bulging muscles ... something that made her ovaries burst out in song and dance every time he was near. Why deny herself some ... er ... pleasure, right?  Soooo ... she offered him a compromise.

London Sanders was his chosen bride and he went at her with all guns blazing.

Mark Farrow had it all. Born from old money and with a heart of gold, he was every woman’s dream. Only he preferred to ... er ... play the field and wasn’t looking for love. That is, until the cheeky redhead came across his path and changed his destiny. He had no intention of allowing a misplaced broken heart—because he didn't believe she'd truly loved the man who'd treated her like dirt—stand in his way of getting what he wanted.

Would Mark be satisfied with a friends with benefits arrangement ... and if so ... for how long? Was London just setting herself up for heartache ... again?

Only time would tell.

Editor's note:

I'm jealous of London. I want a Mark. As usual, Basset intertwines an exceptional love story—with EXCEPTIONALLY hot scenes—with a twist of crime and suspense. Tender, romantic, with just a dash of jealousy and angst, as well as a healthy dose of erotic candy for the eyes, and Chosen Bride will easily become one of those books you want to read again and again just for the good feels.

I trust you will enjoy this tender, yet suspenseful love story.

Warm regards,

Linzi Basset

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Chapter One

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We need to hustle, people, time isn’t standing still.

London Sanders clapped her hands irritably to draw the attention of four of her staff, who were all huddled together at the wide glass door of her flower design boutique, Blossom and Bloom in Manhattan. Her hands landed on her slim hips when they paid no attention to her but continued to point outside and chitter excitedly among themselves.

Her eyes caught the round, handcrafted tree of life wall clock above the door. It was already after ten AM and the team at the back wasn't even close to finishing the arrangements for the Mayor’s birthday luncheon at City Hall.

No wonder, seeing as their bosses are loitering about for fun!

The irritating tap-tap of her foot on the hardwood floor drew the attention of Abel Reitz. He was a master at designing the perfect arrangements for corporate functions. London hadn’t hesitated to appoint him when he’d approached her for a twenty percent share in the shop a month after opening.

He jabbed his elbow into Becca Smith’s waist. Becca was the resident rose wizard and produced breathtaking arrangements of all shapes and sizes with the delicate and most sought-after flower of all time.

I already saw him, Abel, and I’m afraid he’s off hands to you. If anyone is gonna get their claws into that gorgeous specimen of a man, it’s me. Another hard jab. Hey! She straightened and glared at him. Oh! She spun around as she noticed him staring in the opposite direction. Morning London, would you like some coffee?

London’s lips pursed sourly as she frowned at the four people who now stood in a row, like trained soldiers, watching her with embarrassed smiles.

We were just ... Xena Lotz, who was the latest addition to the design team, blushed as she pointed over her shoulder, watching the commotion outside.

The commotion, or are you gawking at the uniforms I see swarming all over the street? she asked with a raised eyebrow after a quick glance through the windows of the shop.

Well, you can’t deny it, deary, there’s just something about a man in a uniform ... it sets anyone’s heart aflutter, Vale Wilson, the oldest of them all, said tongue-in-cheek as she took another peep outside. Vale doubled as front receptionist and was also responsible for the bouquets and flowers displayed for sale to walk-in customers.

You too, Vale? London said with an indulgent smile.

I might be a grandmother, deary, but I’m not blind and there’s definitely nothing wrong with my libido. As a matter of fact, I feel quite moist—

Oh, my gaaawd, Vale! Abel slapped his hand dramatically in front of his forehead. TMI, girlfriend. Way, way too much!

Vale frowned sideways at him. TMI?

Too much information, honey bunny.

Then why don’t you just say so? I can’t get you young ones who feel the need to abbreviate everything.

You need to get with the groove, gramma, he teased.

Says he who just had a hissy fit because I dared mention—

Stop. He puffed out his chest. In case you forgot, there’s a man present.

Pfft, like that stops you from bragging about your hard rod when a certain chef from Amber’s Cuisine drops by.

Well, can you blame me? I mean, have you seen the biceps on that hunny?

Can we please get back to work? London’s acerbic voice put an end to the banter. She cast a sharp look at the clock. We have less than two hours to get all the flowers to City Hall and since all of you are loitering out here, your staff is lagging behind.

Oh, hell no, they’re not. Let me get in there. Today is the day petals are gonna fly. Abel immediately stomped to the back with Becca and Xena in tow, feeling properly chastised.

London walked toward Vale who was staring outside again.

What’s all the commotion about?

An NYPD officer came to warn us to lock the doors and stay inside. With all the FBI suits, SWAT and NYPD milling around, I’d say they’re either doing a kind of raid or something is happening at City Bank. She tried to peek further down the street. I can’t see that far though.

London looked around. There were barricades to the left of the shop, manned by armed NYPD and FBI officers. A large man walking around a parked black SUV drew her attention. Her blood flow increased and did a quick detour south to set her loins alight. She was amazed and annoyed at her body’s reaction.

Mark Farrow was no more than an acquaintance who she’d met soon after she’d arrived from Miami to start the new life she’d set out for. He was one of the best friends to Blake Harper, husband of her cousin, Amber. A man who had an immediate effect on her the first day they’d met and one who had a voracious appetite for food, among other things.

Oh, sweetheart, you don’t know the half of it. There’s one appetite only you can satisfy, and I have to tell you, it’s growing stronger every day.

His lazy drawl in that deep, gruff voice echoed in her mind. At the time it had thrilled her, to be the sole recipient of his attention. When he’d told his friend, Drake, to keep his distance, her heart had missed a beat. To hear he’d reserved her had made every nerve ending in her body tingle. On the other hand, she realized that becoming involved with anyone so soon after her arrival in a strange city, spelled disaster. Especially as she was in the process of building her business from scratch. Not to mention that she was wary of trusting any man after what Richard had done to her.

Besides, London, you haven’t seen him in over four months. His appetite was clearly being taken care of by some blonde.

She still bristled over the eloquent way he’d informed her that he’d make her wear a wig when he made love to her, seeing as his preference for blondes was an ongoing joke among his friends.

How long has this been going on? she asked with her eyes following the long, muscled lines of his legs as he walked toward the NYPD Chief stationed at his vehicle parked next to the shop’s delivery van.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t pull her eyes from his muscled frame encased in an expensive, charcoal-gray suit that fit his wide shoulders snuggly. She’d forgotten how striking the contrast of the white shirt and silver tie to his longish dark hair that fell negligently over his forehead was, similar to the suit he’d worn to Amber’s wedding. His body was powerfully built, and she’d always been astounded at how gracefully he moved, like a panther.

His features were striking and manly, the kind of face that made you look twice. What woman could resist those high cheekbones or the square jaw? It was so tantalizing to her senses that she could imagine the sensations thrilling through her as she slid her tongue over his chiseled features. He looked like a modern version of a suave noir hero, from his roguish expression to his neatly kept stubble.

About an hour. So far nothing has happened but it’s evident they’ve cordoned off the entire street from one corner to the next.

London nibbled on her lower lip. I hope they do what they need to before we have to leave with the flowers. It’s our first prominent function and it can make or break our reputation within the corporate world.

I hear you, deary. Well, I better get to work as well. Tomorrow is Friday and one of our busiest days of the week for shop sales.

I’ll be in my office. I have a couple of quotes to finalize. Keep me in the loop on what’s happening out there, please, Vale.

Of course, deary. She winked at London. That’s if you can drag your eyes from that scrumptious FBI agent.

London felt the telltale heat of a rosy blush covering her cheeks. She laughed as she took a final glance outside.

Well, I never said there was anything wrong with my libido either.

That’s the spirit. It’s about time you start dating. Your poor ovaries must be in starvation mode by now.

Vale, you’re too much, London berated her with a smile as she finally managed to pull herself together and walked toward her office. Drooling over a man like a teenager who had most probably already forgotten about her existence; what was she thinking?   

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What’s the status, Chief? Mark’s deep voice echoed over the bustle of city sounds in the background.

NYPD Chief, Josh Brodie, shook Mark’s proffered hand. Suffice it to say, what should’ve been an easy arrest, turned into a power stakeout.

Mark spread and anchored his feet as he glanced toward the bank entrance a couple of yards further down the street. He pushed his jacket out of the way and rested his hands low on his hips.

And I assume seeing as you’re all out here, your perp is the one with the power at the moment?

Yeah, someone must have tipped him off that we were coming.

Mark methodically searched his memory banks for details on a case involving City Bank. As Senior agent of the Corporate Criminal Fraud Division of the FBI, he headed up the task force team against white-collar crime, which over the years had become synonymous with the full range of frauds committed by business and government professionals. Crimes that were characterized by deceit, concealment, or violation of trust and usually weren’t dependent on the application or threat of physical force or violence but rather financial gain.

The particular case had been assigned to his Division two months ago. The information supplied by the NYPD, Securities and Exchange Commission, and the Treasury Department’s Financial Crimes Enforcement Network, supplied sufficient reason to investigate the bank manager of City Bank for suspected money laundering involving gold coins. Mark had been appointed as the lead in the investigation and currently had an undercover agent in place at the bank. His eyes grazed with icy interrogation over Josh Brodie.

We’re talking Gustav Lochner, bank manager of City Bank, I assume?

The one and only. We’re taking him in for interrogation.

On whose order?

Josh straightened to his full height, but Mark still towered over him. Mine, of course.

I see. Mark stroked his jaw. Did I mistake the assignment, Chief?

Look, Agent Farrow, this is a high-profile case, and I for one, will not stand back and allow injustice to continue. Lochner committed a crime—

"Yes, Chief, at this stage, only an assumed federal crime, which falls under my jurisdiction as the assigned division to handle it. Unless there’s information that you didn’t share with me in the reports you supplied?"

No, but it has come to our attention that he has just made an offer on a big consignment of gold.

Information you should’ve brought to my attention, not used as a tool to further your campaign in running for Mayor.

Josh Brodie simmered visibly. His head snapped up to glare at Mark. And wait until he turned it? Give the crime syndicate more money to widen their reign of terror?

You know we need concrete proof in a case like this and completing the transaction proves his involvement. Do you realize that you’ve placed my undercover agent’s life in danger, Chief?

Josh frowned. You have someone on the inside? Why the hell didn’t you tell me?

Because I don’t need to. It’s my case and, as you well know, you’re supposed to relay any information you receive to me to decide on the appropriate action. This spectacle might just have blown it out of the water. Until now, Lochner had no idea he was under suspicion, let alone investigation. The fact that you’re out here, tells me, we just lost that advantage.

I don’t believe so. Why would he put the bank under lockdown if he wasn’t guilty?

Mark lowered his chin to his chest in defeat. Chief Brodie was so focused on building a political career, he’d lost sight of police procedures.

It’s a bank, Chief. What’s the first thing they’ll do if they notice the NYPD and FBI arrive en masse and surround the area, especially when there’s no threat inside at the particular time? They’ll safeguard the people and the money. They go into lockdown as a precautionary procedure.

Brodie’s lips thinned. Maybe he had been in too much of a hurry to take the credit for uncovering one of the largest corporate money laundering schemes in NY.

What do you propose we do?

Have you talked to anyone inside the bank?

No. Before we could get through the front door, the security lockdown already barred our entry.

How long ago?

Brodie checked his watch. Almost two hours.

Mark was annoyed. Chief Josh Brodie had a stellar reputation as a fair and highly competent law enforcer, but since he’d set his sights on becoming the future Mayor, he’d lost focus. This slip up could cost them the investigation.

I suggest we set up a diversion. Get a couple of officers to enter the building next door, dressed as perps and then we charge it. At least that way, Lochner isn’t alarmed or put on alert.

You’re not serious, Brodie huffed angrily. He’d been primed for this arrest, which was why he’d personally arrived at the scene.

I am very serious, Chief. This case is my jurisdiction and if you need verification, feel free to phone the First Deputy Commissioner, Warren Jones. I’m sure your boss would agree with me. He looked around at the officers milling around. I suggest we act quickly. The longer we’re out here, the better the chances Gustav Lochner is going to walk away scot-free. In the meantime, I’ll instruct my agents to stage a robbery at the jewelry store next door. Keep your men back. I don’t want any of my agents killed by a trigger-happy NYPD cop.

Mark ignored the furious look Josh shot at him as he walked away; he was too angry himself to care.

Devon, he called his second in command closer and briefly explained the situation.

What a shithead, Devon Brown muttered, watching the Chief through veiled lashes. We were already working that information. It came in while you were in the meeting with the Director.

Is it veritable?

Solid but not enough to pin more on Lochner than being negligent and not following protocol.

My thoughts exactly. If our suspicions are correct and he actually heads up the entire operation, we need to make sure we connect all the dots. The gold could be our main lead to get to him, as we already suspect he’s laundering proceeds from drug syndicates through the purchase and sale of gold.

Exactly and we’ve identified one syndicate so far.

Good job, Devon. We can discuss this in detail later. For now, we have to try and smooth over this fuck up.

Any ideas?

Yes, get a team of four agents to dress up as robbers. We’re going to stage a robbery at the jeweler next to the bank. Make sure all NYPD officers stand down. I only want our team working this. Go blue on weapons, I don’t want anyone getting shot by accident. I’ll go around the back and talk to the owners to get them out of harm’s way before we go.

On it, Boss.

Mark decided to pass through the flower shop next to the jeweler instead of going all the way around the block to the back of the building.

We move in twenty, Devon. Tell them to hustle, he called over his shoulder as he walked toward Blossom and Bloom Boutique. As he stepped onto the pavement, a husky voice to the right drew his eyes sideways.

Well, well, well, look who's here.

The smile that curved his lips upward was predatory and filled with anticipation as he recognized the beautiful redhead, currently in an argument with one of the NYPD officers.

I need to get past that barrier, officer. Either you move it, or I will drive through it.

Is there a problem?

He watched with male satisfaction as her head snapped around and her pouty lips formed a round oh in surprise. She recovered too quickly in his estimation as she spun about to face him. Her hands landed on her hips, which of course distracted the male in him when her breasts bounded in reaction. Dressed in a pair of designer jeans and a silk shirt that molded her full breasts like the caressing hands of a lover, she looked sensational. He walked closer.

I’ll take care of this, officer, he said without taking his eyes off her. He immediately became enamored by her green, multichromatic eyes that glimmered with spectral highlights of yellow and slate gray. She blinked slowly and the sweep of long, dark eyelashes momentarily shielded her surprise.

I suppose you’re the one in charge of this ... she gestured irritably at the street, circus?

London was taken aback that her annoyance didn’t seem to faze him