By Ken Follett
Number one New York Times bestselling writer Ken Follett takes to the skies during this vintage novel of overseas suspense. Set within the early days of global battle II, evening over Water captures the bold and desperation of normal humans stuck in outstanding circumstances—in prose as compelling as historical past itself.
September 1939. England is at warfare with Nazi Germany. In Southampton, the world’s most opulent airliner—the mythical Pan Am clipper—takes off for its ultimate flight to impartial the United States. Aboard are the cream of society and the dregs of humanity, all fleeing the warfare for purposes in their own…shadowed by means of a probability they don't know exists…and heading instantly right into a hurricane of violence, intrigue, and betrayal…
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Extra resources for Night Over Water
He was hers as long as she wanted him. Which he feared wouldn’t be long enough, but he’d take it. After years of avoiding intimate contact, he’d finally met his match in 48 Red Inferno someone harder, bleaker and more lost than him. Someone who didn’t want what he had to offer. So what? He was a big boy. He’d suck it up. If he sent her out into the world whole and strong, that would content him. Would it, fuck. Who was he trying to kid? She lifted her head and flung back the covers. Underneath, she wore his white tshirt and a pair of white cotton panties.
She moved her hand but he pulled her closer so she couldn’t move away. Did he love the connection as much as she did? ” “Yes but I have my mission right here. ” Pain twisted her mouth. ” “No, mi tesorino, you won’t. I’ve been in your situation, remember? You’re addicted to Cephalox, you’re weak and, like it or not, you need someone right now. ” He pulled her closer and her upper thigh encountered his cock, a hard, pulsating column that spoke more eloquently than anything he’d said. She chuckled.
Let her think he didn’t care. Instead, he took what she offered, lifting his hand and caressing her breast, rubbing it until it peaked hard for him, a little nub against his palm. Tempting, delicious. “So pretty,” he told her before he took it into his mouth. He caressed her stomach and slipped his hand down over her soft cotton panties. He felt the texture of the soft underwear against his hand, an intriguing contrast to her 49 Lynne Connolly silky skin. He cruised down, taking his time, until his hand covered her mound.