Download as pdf or txt
Download as pdf or txt
You are on page 1of 96

Ten Shades of Sexy

A free sampler collection from:

Shelly Thacker Kathryn Shay Patricia Ryan Julie Ortolon Patricia McLinn Julianne MacLean Wendy Lindstrom Allyson James Emma Holly Lori Devoti

Turn down the lights and indulge in ten steamy scenes from ten bestselling, award-winning authors. Readers love to bookmark the good parts of their favorite romance novels, the scenes they want to read again... and again. Ten Shades of Sexy is a FREE sampler collection that brings you nothing but the good parts! Enjoy ten complete love scenes selected from ten steamy novels written in ten different shades of sexy: from heartbreakingly tender to scorchingly erotic. Whether you love contemporary, historical, or paranormal romance, youll find something to tempt and please you in this collectionand you might just discover some new favorite authors. Ten Shades of Sexy. It has all the good parts!

Meet the authors:


Shelly Thacker has earned a place on national bestseller lists and lavish praise from Publishers Weekly, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution and The Oakland Press for her innovative, addictive, erotic historical and paranormal romances. Kathryn Shay has more than 5 million copies in print of her 46 published novels. Her contemporary romances have been serialized in Cosmopolitan magazine and featured in The Wall Street Journal and People magazine. Patricia Ryan is a RITA Award-winning author known for breaking boundaries with her fresh, swift and sexy page-turners that blend romance, history and suspense. Her 28 books have been published in more than 20 countries.

Julie Ortolon is a USA Today bestselling author who has earned raves from Publishers Weekly and Booklist for her sparkling romantic comedies filled with passion and heart. Her novels regularly appear at the top of the ebook bestseller lists. Patricia McLinn is the author of 27 powerful, compelling contemporary romances cherished by readers worldwide for their memorable characters, sensuality and emotional intensity. There are more than 4 million copies of her books in print. Julianne MacLean is a USA Today bestselling author praised by readers and reviewers alike for her smart, thrilling, sizzling writing. Her 15 historical romances have been published internationally by three major New York publishers. Wendy Lindstrom is a RITA Award-winning author who has earned comparisons to LaVyrle Spencer for her beautifully poignant, wonderfully emotional historical romances. Allyson James is a pseudonym for Jennifer Ashley, the New York Times bestselling author of more than 45 novels. As Allyson, she writes award-winning erotic romance and urban fantasy. Emma Holly is a USA Today bestselling author of more than 30 stunning, smoking hot erotic romances featuring werewolves, faeries, and just plain extraordinary ordinary folks. Lori Devoti is a bestselling author who writes sexy, refreshing, unconventional paranormal and contemporary romance and urban fantasy for three major New York publishers.

Total length: 40,000 words, about 125 pages (size matters!) Adult content warning: explicit love scenes (ten of them!) Some scenes include graphic language and highly erotic subject matter This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the authors imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Publishing History First edition, 2012 Published by Summit Avenue Books Smashwords Edition, 2012 ISBN: 978-0-9847646-9-3 Excerpt from His Forbidden Touch Copyright by Shelly Thacker Meinhardt Excerpt from After the Fire Copyright by Kathryn Shay Excerpt from Heavens Fire

Copyright by Patricia Ryan Excerpt from Just Perfect Copyright by Julie Ortolon Excerpt from The Games Copyright by Patricia McLinn Excerpt from Taken by the Cowboy Copyright by Julianne MacLean Excerpt from Lips That Touch Mine Copyright by Wendy Lindstrom Excerpt from Justin Copyright by Jennifer Ashley/Allyson James Excerpt from Hidden Crimes Copyright by Emma Holly Excerpt from Trust Me Copyright by Lori Devoti All rights reserved. No part of this book, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews, may be reproduced in any form by any means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission from the authors. The scanning, uploading, and distributing of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owners is illegal and punishable by law. Please download only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the authors rights is appreciated. Cover design by Kim Killion of Hot DAMN! Designs www.hotdamndesigns.com Digital formatting by A Thirsty Mind www.athirstymind.com

Table of Contents Meet the Authors Shelly Thacker A love scene from His Forbidden Touch (historical romance) Kathryn Shay A love scene from After the Fire (contemporary romance)

Patricia Ryan A love scene from Heavens Fire (historical romance) Julie Ortolon A love scene from Just Perfect (contemporary romance) Patricia McLinn A love scene from The Games (contemporary romance) Julianne MacLean A love scene from Taken by the Cowboy (time-travel romance) Wendy Lindstrom A love scene from Lips That Touch Mine (historical romance) Allyson James A love scene from Justin: Tales of the Shareem (paranormal romance) Emma Holly A love scene from Hidden Crimes (paranormal romance) Lori Devoti A love scene from Trust Me (vampire romance) E-Newsletter Links

His Forbidden Touch


Stolen Brides Series Historical Romance

By Shelly Thacker In a realm of snow and ice, a mercenary is assigned to protect a princess on a journey that may prove deadly to them both. Disgraced ex-knight Royce Saint-Michel was banished from his homeland because of an impulsive act that cost him all he held dear. Now, he has the chance to reclaim his birthrightif he escorts the lovely Princess Ciara to her royal wedding and ensures that she arrives untouched. The two set off alone on a treacherous journey through snowy mountain passes, but forbidden desire soon proves even more dangerous than the assassins on their trail. With the fate of two kingdoms hanging in the balance, will Royce and Ciara do as honor and duty demand... or surrender to the longing in their hearts? A fun and erotic 14th-century romp... loaded with non-stop adventure. Publishers Weekly

His Forbidden Touch


He swore he could hear each drop of water as it glided down her body. Seated on a stool in front of the hearth, his jaw clenched so hard that it hurt, Royce kept his back to Ciara and his gaze on the untouched trencher of food in his hands. And fought a desperate battle to ignore the liquid, sensual sounds just a few paces behind him. He should have told the innkeeper and his assistants to take the hot bath away. The fire and the fur had clearly been enough to revive Ciara. She was in no danger. But after all she had endured this day, he had found himself unable to deny her a few moments... Pleasure. The word made his entire body go taut with strain. He realized he was sweating. The chamber that had seemed so cold just minutes ago now felt much too hot. Sultry. Confining. Every splash of warm water caressing her naked skin made his heart beat harder. Each barely audible sigh that escaped her lips made his blood pound through his veins. He could not even draw a complete breath, longed to get up and pacebut that would mean turning around. And seeing what he was hearing. He grabbed a haunch of roast meat from his trencher and sank his teeth into it, struggling to remember that a great many lives depended on him doing what was right and honorable. Including his own. Wolfing down his meal, he resisted the urge to steal a glance over his shoulder... and tried to keep his mind off the large, soft bed in the corner. At least the arrival of the tub had spared him one bit of torture: having Ciara tend his injuries. He had seen to his own cuts and bruises while she had prepared for her bath. The thought of what her tender ministrations might have been like, of her fingers moving over his bare skin... He gnawed the last bit of meat from the mutton bone, unable to forget the way she had looked at him when he had stripped off his tunic and turned to face her. The wonder in her gaze, and the

unexpected, unmistakable arousal, had hit him like a punch to the gut, reminding him of the sweet, feminine passion he had tasted so briefly at Bayards castle. The passion that he had no right to taste or to take. Royce? He almost choked on his food. Aye? Could you... mayhap hand me something to... to dry off with? Please? His heart thudded. Her tremulous voice revealed that she was just as affected as he was by the heat sizzling through the room. His gaze slid to the stack of linens on the table to his left. He wished fervently that she had thought of this before getting into the tub. Of course. He tried to say it casually, to act as if he had beautiful, naked women bathing within five paces of him every day. Setting his trencher aside, he picked up some of the clean linens and moved as close to her as he dared, keeping his gaze averted. He placed them on the floor within her reach. But he did not move away. He heard her breath catch. For an instant, just one instant, he lingered there. Wishing...wanting... Then he forced himself to reclaim his place before the hearth. Water sloshed over the edge of the tub. Thank you, she whispered. You are welcome. He glared into the flames, felt beads of sweat slide down his temple, his neck, into the matted hair of his bare chest. Neither of the tunics he had pilfered from the stable boys fit him, both too tight to get past his shoulders. He could only hope one of the garments would fit Ciara. The wish became a prayer a moment later as he heard her stand. He had to shut his eyes to banish the image painted by the sounds: water sluicing off her naked body. The little rush of breath between her teeth as the night air touched her wet skin. He imagined her nipples tightened to hard pearls, imagined them a perfect, dusky pink. Next he heard the crunch of the rushes beneath her feet as she stepped from the tub. And the quiet rustling of the linen as she rubbed the soft cloth over her smooth, wet curves. Then silence. Every muscle in his body tightened. He remained still, not trusting himself to move. Knowing that if he so much as dared draw breath, he would have her in his arms and on the bed before either of them could say a word. He blinked once, slowly. Waited. Royce? she whispered tentatively. What? His voice sounded rough and hollow. She hesitated a moment. What am I to wear? The chamber seemed to grow smaller and even hotter around him. He waved a hand over his shoulder, motioning her toward the corner near the door. See if any of those fit you. He listened while she padded barefoot over to the pile of stolen garments. She could not put her ruined gown back on. The few bits of cloth left intact after their escape today had more or less shredded when she had disrobed for her bath. The task of getting undressed had apparently been difficult with her hands bandaged. And he had not dared to offer help. Nor did he offer any now, as he listened to her wrestling with the homespun garments in an attempt to fit them over her curves.

She made a sound of frustration. I do not think these will work. My hips are too... and my... my... He did not need an explanation. His imagination provided a complete, vivid picture. Gritting his teeth, he whispered an oath and flicked a glance heavenward. Was it not enough that he had to spend the next few days alone with her in this room? Did she have to be as naked as Eve the entire time? He stood, raking a hand through his hair. I will have to risk a visit to the marketplace in the morn, to purchase us both some clothes, he told her, trying to think of what to do with her tonight. Blankets were the only answer, he decided. Bundles and bundles of blankets. For now, you will have to make do with the coverlets from the bed. He felt relieved when he heard her cross the chamber quickly, heard the rustling of the blankets. But then silence fell again. Princess? he asked warily. Mayhap she had decided to forgo her supper, to simply go to bed. It would be a relief to discover her fast asleep. But when he heard her voice again, he realized he had not been born a fortunate man. I... I feel much better now, she said. Thank you for ordering the bath for me. It was very kind. And thank you for being so... so chivalrous. He would have laughed if he could breathe deeply enough. Aye, he had kept his back turned but chivalrous was the last word he would use to describe how he felt at the moment. You are welcome, milady. Are you ready for... As he turned to face her at last, the question died on his lips. She had not covered herself with all the blankets; she had chosen only one. The fur. He felt every drop of blood in his veins surge into his lower body like a flood of fire. The silky fur covered her from neck to toes, leaving only her oval face and damp hair exposed. The thought of her pale nakedness hidden from him by only that soft robe... He was suddenly aware of his arousal pressing painfully hard against his leggings. Of the overpowering desire to step toward her, slide that coverlet from her shoulders, reveal her body one slow inch at a time... He forced his gaze back to her face, could not make himself look away fast enough to conceal his feelings. She saw it all in his eyes. How powerfully she affected him. How much he wanted to make her his own. He heard himself speaking, as if from far away. Are you ready, Princess? She took a step toward him, even before he amended the question. For your supper, he said quickly. Are you hungry, Princess? Mayhap if he kept calling her that, it would be enough to remind him of all the barriers between them. Of why he must not do what every fiber of his being urged him to do. Starving, she said with a tremulous curve of her mouth, drawing closer one hesitant step at a time. But I... think I may have a problem. She lifted her bandaged hands, still clutching the fur, and he understood: she was having a hard enough time keeping her makeshift robe in place. She could not eat and remain covered at the same time. Which meant she could either stay warm and go hungry... Or eat her supper naked. He shut his eyes, trying to banish that delectable image. And then he thought of a third possibility.

Opening his eyes, he gestured to the hearth, noticing that his voice sounded too deep, too husky when he made the suggestion. Come and sit by the fire, and I will... see what I can do. Turning away, he filled a trencher with food at the table in the corner while she settled herself before the fire. From outside their chamber, the delicate strains of a harp and pipes drifted on the night air. Where is that music coming from? Ciara asked. The tavern down the street. The stringed instrument sounds like a tympanum. I have one of those at... Home. She did not say the word, and Royce felt something inside him wrench tight, reminded that she had left her home behind. Forever. Twas a feeling he knew too well. His heart beating strangely, he felt somehow that he knew her thoughts as she gazed toward the window. She had become an exile, as he had been. In a matter of days, she would be arriving at her new home, Mount Ravensbruk. Where they would part, forever. He stood there watching her, holding a trencher of food in his hands, racked by denial and frustration. And by another, new emotion. One that should have startled him. Alarmed him. Instead, he could only yield to it, wonder when it had happened. When it was that she had claimed his heart so completely, this lady with the topaz eyes and quiet grace, delicate as snowfall, rare and precious as a Chlons garnet. This princess who was both regal and ravishing, who had a soft spot in her heart for every child she met and courage enough to climb an icy cliff. And willingness to sacrifice her own happiness to save her people. Mayhap, he thought, swallowing hard past a lump in his throat, he had first realized it on the cliff today. Or later when she had walked for hours without telling him how badly she was suffering. Or mayhap it had happened the moment he first saw her in the chapel, when she had appeared like an angel drifting into his life on a beam of morning sunlight. He was in love with her. His grip tightened on the carved wooden trencher, almost hard enough to break it, as everything inside him was breaking. He was in love with her. With this sweet innocent who looked so vulnerable huddled within the fur, her damp hair trailing down her back. Princess Ciara. King Aldrics daughter. Prince Daemons betrothed. A lady who belonged to everyone but him. He looked away, had to set the platter down before he snapped it in two. Brutally reminded himself that she was never meant to be his. He could not change what had to beand he could not make the same mistake he had made four years ago. Peace depended on him carrying out the mission he had been entrusted with. This time, he had to do what duty and honor demanded. This time, he had to put his countrys needs ahead of his own. The music still drifted in through the shuttered window, and he knew he would never again hear the sound of harp and pipes without remembering this night, this moment. This bitterness.

Steeling himself against the forbidden feelings, he picked up the trencher again, poured a cup of wine for her, and returned to the hearth. Sitting with his back against the warm stone wall, he tried to keep his voice casual. You say that instrument is called a tim-what? Tympanum. Ciara was still looking toward the window. It is a stringed instrument, like a harp, native to Scotland. I have rather a large collection of stringed instruments at... home. She finished in a scant whisper, still holding the fur close with her bandaged hands. Glancing from his face to the platter in his hands and back again, she regarded him with a bewildered expression. Have you given thought to how I might eat that, or are you teasing me? She attempted a smile, lifted an eyebrow. Nay, now I have guessedyou mean for me to gobble my supper like a hog at a trough. He realized she had noticed his somber expression and was trying to lighten his mood. But he could not muster even the slightest grin. Nay, I thought we would try something more civilized. Not to mention more tidy. He cut a bite-size chunk of meat for her and held it out toward her. Ah, I see. Instead of a hog, I shall be fed like a loyal hound. Still smiling, she leaned forward and nipped it from his fingers. He tried to ignore the sensual impact of the brief contact, dropped his gaze to the trencher, and cut another piece for her. Have you always liked music? Aye, she said between bites. It is hard to say whether I like reading or music best. A lady of many talents. She shrugged at the compliment. A lady with a great deal of time on her hands, she corrected. And many costly tutors. You are being generous, milady. And modest. She chewed and swallowed before speaking, shaking her head. Nay, my musical skills are entirely the fault of my royal tutors. She laughed. When I was young, you see, I used to sneak away from them whenever possible to spend time with the minstrels who visited the palace. The minstrels were the ones who taught me to play and compose. Royce could not help grinning, picturing a mischievous little princess skipping her lessons. And the musicians were no doubt more colorful and fun than your stuffy royal tutors. Much more fun. She nodded. But in truth, I believe I have always favored intellectual pursuits like reading and music simply because I have never been particularly good at physical ... She had leaned toward his outstretched hand again, her eyes on his as she spoke, and it took her a moment to finish the sentence. ... activities. He held her gaze, silently sharing her memories of the various physical activities they had engaged in together. Not only today, but last night. Her mouth hovered just above the meat in his fingertips. Then she took it quickly. And sat back, drawing the fur closer around her, as if suddenly aware of the erotic aspect of what they had been doingof the way the pads of his fingers just brushed against her lips each time... Of the savory juices on his fingertips, and in her mouth... Of the unintentional, wet touch of her tongue against his skin... B-but I-I should... she stammered, I should not be so critical of my tutors. They were most... most... Most fortunate to have a pupil who is both intelligent and gifted, he whispered, as well as beautiful.

Her eyes widened, shining. Her gaze searched his for a long moment before she replied, softly, No one has ever said that to me before. He knew he had no right to be the first. Knew he should stop. And instead he heard himself telling her more. Ciara, you are more beautiful thanhe searched for a comparison worthy of herthan snow falling in the mountains at dawn. You are more beguiling and more lovely than any woman I have met. Her cheeks colored. I always thought that I did not compare well to other women. My eyes are too dark, and my mouth is... and my hair... She reached up to touch the jagged ends of her damp tresses. Your eyes are much better than blue, and your hair is like copper and gold spun together. Not even my handiwork could mar its beauty. He lifted the cup of wine toward her. And your mouth... She leaned forward and took a sip from the offered goblet, lifting her gaze to his. He purposefully ran his thumb over her lower lip. Your mouth is perfect, Ciara, he said huskily. You are perfect. And you have become more precious to me than anything in my life. If she had not looked at him that way, her eyes suddenly glistening with dampness, filling with warmth and longing and so many other, deeper emotions... He might have been able to stop himself. But the need had become too strong, the feelings in his heart and in her gaze too powerful to resist. As if in a dream, he picked up another piece of meat and held it out to her, leaning closer. Groaned softly as she parted her lips to let his fingertips slip inside. And then he was sharing the taste of it with her, kissing the succulent juices from her lips. Sliding his tongue along hers. Meeting her mouth as she sought his and devouring her with a hot, deep kiss. One of her hands came up to rest in the center of his chest, over his heart, and he flinched. Thought for an instant that she might push him away. End this now. Now, before it was too late. Instead, she made a low sound of need. Of wanting. Kept her mouth molded to his. And then she released her grip on the fur, slid her palm up over his chest to the nape of his neck. He dropped the trencher, undone by her touch. Lost in her silky heat and delicious sighs. Cupping her face, he deepened the mating of their mouths, reason gone, sanity slipping. All he knew was that he needed her, wanted her. Loved her. Driven by the deafening, pounding demand of his heart, he lifted his mouth from hers to nip a hungry path along her jaw, her throat. Glancing down, he caught a breathtaking view of her ivory skin warmed to gold by the firelight. The fur had parted just enough to reveal the soft curves of her breasts, their rosy peaks taut. He went still, stared in awe at the sheer perfection of her, exhaled a harsh gasp of air. And the touch of his breath made the tempting pearls tighten even more. Dusky pink, they were, just as he had imagined. He told himself he should not, must not... But then his hand was there, cupping one exquisite globe, his thumb whisking over her nipple. Her skin was so satiny pale against his dark, callused palm; her voice so soft as she inhaled a small cry of pleasure, of discovery. Of longing. A single drop of wine had trickled from her lips to splash onto that soft curve of flesh, and he could not resist the urge to bend his head and kiss it away. She shuddered in response, making

small, passionate sounds that touched him like hot brands and set him ablaze. His lips and tongue licked up the tiny dot of liquid... and then he lifted her to his mouth, tasted her, suckled her. His boldness did not seem to make her afraid. Or even cautious. She had become as reckless as he, as lost in the flames that threatened to burn them both to ashes. Her fingers buried in his hair and she arched her back, allowing him to take her more deeply, allowing the fur to slide down her body. Revealing more of her, all of her. Her slender rib cage, her impossibly tiny waist, her flat stomach... Driven to the edge of madness by her response, he lifted his head, slanted his mouth over hers once more, encircling her with his arms. The feel of her soft, naked body against his, the way she pressed herself closer to him, snapped the last threads of his control. And before he knew what he was doing, he lowered her to the floor, pressing her down into the fur. +++ Ciara trembled in his arms, not from fear or even uncertainty, but from an unfamiliar excitement that left her gasping for breath between his deep, hot kisses. Royces words and his touch and the steely strength of his arms had all woven a glittering tapestry of magic around her. She surrendered to it, to him, to the tumult of emotions in her heart and the infinite gentleness of his hands, until naught existed outside of this small chamber and the firelight and the heat and longing that bound them together. The bristly hair on his chest felt rough against her breasts, made the sensitive tips pinch tight. When he tore his mouth from hers, she heard a moan of protest issue from her throat, but then he was sliding down her body, his lips closing over one aching crest. He kissed and teased it with his tongue until her breath broke and she arched up off the soft fur beneath her, his name a whispered plea on her lips. His arm slid around her back to hold her fast as he gave hungry attention to each tender peak in turn. The need that twisted through her, the shocking, indescribable sensations felt like tendrils of flame. Like lightning. Sharp, glittering. Her pulse pounding, she tossed her head helplessly, lost in the exquisite storm. She knew she should stop him, knew that what they were doing was wrong. By all the laws of God and man, this was wrong. Forbidden. He was not her husband and never would be. Her hands sought him, her fingers curling into the hard muscles of his arms. But she did not stop him, did not even try. To the depths of her soul, she feltknewthat this was what she was meant for, what she had been born for, to be held in this mans arms. Caressed and cherished and claimed. She heard his breathing, ragged and hoarse, as he lowered her back down onto the fur, balancing his weight on his forearms. She felt his body so hard and hot against hers, streaked with sweat, shuddering with his own need. Yet he nuzzled her gently, brushing his stubbled cheek over the wet, delicate skin he had kissed, making her shiver and writhe beneath him. She buried her fingers in his hair, did not care if she was condemned to spend eternity in Hell as punishment for this one sweet night of Heavenfor she had already been condemned to spend the rest of her life without him. Nay, she could not think of that. Not while they were still together. Not tonight. Unable to deny him her body or her soul, she offered up both willingly, gladly. For he already possessed a part of her that no other man ever would. Her heart. And all that mattered was here, now, him.

She tried to draw him back to her, longing to wrap her arms around him, to be closer to him in a way she could not begin to understand. But he pulled away from her grasp, moving lower over her body. Tracing a damp path down her ribs, her belly. Unable to reach him, she grasped handfuls of the fur beneath her, shock lashing through her when he kissed his way even lower. His fingers followed, brushed against her hip. Her thigh. She went rigid, stunned breathless, unable to believe what he meant to do. Surely he could not... dear God, he could not... He answered her unasked question with a touch. With a breath. His fingertips burning her like a brand, he gently nudged her thighs apart. Heat ignited inside her, a liquid fire born deep within the core of her being. Sizzling through her until she could not even remember being cold only minutes ago. Could only surrender to him. Closing her eyes, catching her lower lip between her teeth, she parted her thighs, bared her most intimate, feminine secrets to his eyes, to his touch. The deep, strained sound that came from his throat told her more vividly than words of his passion and desire for her. But instead of claiming her quickly, he went more slowly, drawing out the tension. Tracing a single fingertip along her thigh... higher... closer... one slow inch at a time. She held her breath, quivering. Trusting. Willing to go wherever he would take her. She could not hold in a low cry when his fingers brushed over the soft, dark triangle between her thighs. Lightly, so very lightly. Stroking her, exploring. Tenderly seeking and finding the liquid fire that poured forth from deep within her. And then she felt the touch of his lips there. And his tongue. Her body jerked in a spasm of pleasure, arching into a bow, undulating in a dazzling storm of fire and lightning. If she had not been biting her lip, her cry of wonder and ecstasy would have filled the darkened chamber. But it was only the beginning, for his hands came to rest on her hips, held her against him while he found a small bud, at the core of her being, touched it with just the tip of his tongue. Softly. Again and again. Until she was twisting on the fur, tossing her head wildly. Dazed, mindless, she felt the storm building again, more powerfully this time. He held her fast and sampled her intimately, parting his lips to taste her. Bright stars whirled inside her. A tempest of stars and flame and lightning. Hotter. Faster. Spinning tight. And then his tongue slipped inside her. She shattered in his hands, felt all the lightning and stars explode in the same instant, and she was falling through the rain of heat and light, sailing downward through the storm, drenched with pleasure. Her body went limp, spent. Shivering, she felt too weak to move, almost thought she had fainted. When she finally opened her eyes, it was to find Royce wrapping her in the fur, covering her nakedness as he gently gathered her in his arms. Though he was still breathing harshly and shaking with his own need, he sat back against the hearth and cradled her against him, whispering soft, sweet words in her ear. The unexpected end of their loving stunned her almost as much as the unexpected beginning. She closed her eyes and pressed her face against the strong column of his throat, trembling, filled with awe at what had just happened. And she prayed that he could not tell she was crying. Knew she could not explain her tears. Could not put them into words. Not to him, not aloud. He had taken no pleasure for himself, had left her maidenhead intactfor her future husband to claim.

And that made her want to sob. The idea of sharing such intimacy with Prince Daemon, with any other mannay, she could not! She wanted to give herself to only one man. To this man. And it endeared him to her more, that he would give to her without taking, when his own longing had been so fierce. She bit her lip and fought back the tears, wanting to rail against God for bringing Royce Saint-Michel into her life when it was impossible for her to share a future with him. Buy HIS FORBIDDEN TOUCH now at your favorite ebook store: http://www.shellythacker.com/hisforbiddentouch.html

Reviewers use words like exquisite and stunning to describe Shelly Thackers unique blend of powerful emotion, edge-of-your-seat adventure and sizzling sensuality. Shellys historical and paranormal romances have earned her a place on national bestseller lists and lavish praise from Publishers Weekly, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, Locus, and The Oakland Press, who have called her books innovative, addictive, erotic, memorable and powerful. A two-time RWA RITA Finalist, Shelly has won numerous other honors for her novels, including a National Readers Choice Award, several Romantic Times Certificates of Excellence, and five straight KISS Awards for her outstanding heroes. The Detroit Free Press has twice placed her books on their annual list of the years best romances. When shes not at the computer, youll find Shelly reading with her kids, knitting in local cafes, or kickboxing at the gym. She lives in Minnesota with her husband and children. Visit Shellys website: www.shellythacker.com. Like Shellys Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorShellyThacker Subscribe to Shellys e-newsletter: http://www.shellythacker.com/contact.html

After the Fire


Hidden Cove Series Contemporary Romance

By Kathryn Shay The Malvaso family has more than its share of firefighters, and when three of themJenn, Mitch, and Zachalmost lose their lives in a disastrous inferno, they change their views of the universe and their places in it. Jenn, a single woman living a platonic existence with Grady, her fellow firefighter and best friend, decides to have a baby. Mitch tries to make a go of his failing marriage and be a better father. Zach, too, has to get past a ruined relationship and fight many demons of his own. This powerful, emotionally realistic book is the first of Shays five Hidden Cove Series about the men and women who put their lives on the line every day and how that dedication and commitment affect all those around them. Poignant and compelling, this novel reinforces Shays well-earned reputation as a first-rate storyteller. In the following excerpt, Jenny and Grady have decided to have a baby together, but to keep their relationship platonic before Baby-Day and after, when they will raise the child together. Both are afraid that sex will screw up their deep bond and agree to date, but not sleep with, others before the conception. However, mention of making love has unfurled a passion for each other that neither knew they had. In this scene, they come to terms with those emotions... almost!

After the Fire


Jenn let herself in and checked the clock. TWO A.M. What the hell was Grady doing up? Should she go see? No, she was feeling vulnerable tonight, and had been all week, though shed hidden it from him. In her heart, she knew their decision last week not to make love was the right oneGod, she couldnt risk losing his friendshipbut that nagging feeling of attraction just wouldnt go away. Best just to sneak into the duplex they shared without his knowing. She headed to her room.

And there he was. Again, he stretched out on her bed, holding a book in his lap; hed put on his glasses, which he only needed when his eyes were tired. Riding low on his hips were black sweats; he wore nothing else. What are you doing up? she asked. I couldnt sleep. Were you waiting for me? No. Removing his glasses, setting them on the table, he glanced at his watch. It is late, though. She turned back to the dresser. Sorry, Dad. Very funny. What did you do tonight? Zach and I got the old paneling down. Slipping off her necklace, she removed the belt and reached for the back of her outfit. The zipper seemed stuck. She struggled with it. Here, let me help. He was off the bed and behind her before she could say no, she didnt think it was a good idea for him to touch her right now. He looked sexy lazing on her mattress, and theyd agreed not to notice those things. His hands went to her shoulders and rested there for a minute. Leaning over, he buried his nose in her hair. You smell good. Her breath hitched. Thanks. He stayed where he was. She caught his gaze in the mirror. Gray? As if coming out of a daze, he eased away and she felt his fingers on her back. He tugged on the zipper. Then his knuckles brushed her skin, over her bra. She shivered; he raised gooseflesh all down her spine. Your skin is so soft, he whispered. It feels like expensive silk. She didnt think she could talk. He parted the material of her jumpsuit. What the hell is this? he barked. She was startled by his tone. What? You wore a red lacy bra. None too gently, he yanked the zipper all the way down. And panties to match. So? You only wear this stuff... He seemed to stutter. ... That date you had a while ago and I waited up, you said you wore your white underwear because you werent gonna do anything. Because of the baby. She stilled. Why had she worn this? She remembered thinking about Grady when shed chosen her underwear tonight and how hed snapped her bra for her that morning; and she did recall the conversation theyd had a few weeks ago. Forcefully, he gripped her arms. You havent forgotten about the baby next week, have you? Shaking her head, she wouldnt meet his gaze in the mirror. His fingers tightened on her arms and he stepped closer again. I saw him kiss you. Her head came up. Were you spying on me? Maybe. He ran his hands down her side, to her hips. He touched you here. Like a lover would. His fingers flexed on her sides. Did you want to fuck him? Grady!

I wanna know. No! She tried to pull away. He held her fast. Drew her back against him. Oh, God, he was aroused. Fully, heavily, gloriously aroused. Gray. She breathed his name. How was the kiss? Stop this. He yanked her even closer. How was it? Sighing, she felt control slip away from her. Okay. Just okay? She leaned back, let him slide his arms around her waist. No fireworks, if thats what you mean. Good. He lowered his head. Kissed her bare shoulder where the suit had slipped. I can give you fireworks, Jenny. Closing her eyes because the sight of them together in the mirror drove her wild, she struggled for sanity. Somewhere, in the dim recesses of her mindwhich was suddenly clouded with the feel and smell of her best friendshe remembered their fear of blowing their friendship and how it wasnt worth the risk of experimenting sexually with each other. We agreed that wasnt a good idea. Right now, I dont give a shit what we agreed on. She watched this time, as his nose pushed at the material of the outfit. It fell off one shoulder. I want you, Jenny. We said we were going to be sensible about this. Screw sensible. He nipped at the red lacy strap with his teeth and she jerked into him. I dont think... But his hands came up, pushed the jumpsuit to her waist, and cupped her breasts. She filled him perfectly. Gently, he caressed her. She moaned. Jenny. His voice was scraping, parched. Still, she tried. Grady, Im scared But one of his big, masculine hands drifted lower, pushed the suit completely off, and covered her midriff. She sucked in a breath when he went even lower and cupped her. No longer could she remember her objections, that this was the boy shed known since they were five. Simply, he was a man she wanted with utter desperation. Acute, raw desire shot through her, like water surging through a hose, charging it with an unstoppable current. When he slid his hand inside the lacy ridge of the panties, the desire erupted. She thrust her hips forward with his very first intimate touch of her. Grady. His mouth was on her ear. His tongue traced it. Jenny, love. His words were slurred, like a drunks. Closing her eyes, she felt his fingers slid through her curls and find her. He rubbed her there, up and down and she groaned. Moaned. The sounds escaping from her became one long sexual chorus. Suddenly, the exquisite sensation was gone. Her eyes flew open. Youre close, he said, sliding down the red lace so she was fully exposed. Kick these off. Sexually drugged by his ministrations, she obeyed him. Meanwhile he disposed of her bra and she spilled into his hands. Spread your legs. She closed her eyes as she did that, too. No, no, open your eyes. She was powerless to deny him. Now watch me touch you. One hand fondled her breast, the other slid down to cup her again. There was so much heat, she thrust forwardto douse it? To make it burn hotter? His knuckles grazed her up and down. Harder? he asked, nipping at her ear. Every single nerve ending sizzled inside her. Yes, oh, God, yes.

He increased the pressure. In only seconds she was about to burst into hot, dangerous flames. But again, the tender, violent pressure stopped. Ohhhhh, she said and then he thrust two fingers inside her, keeping his thumb on the most sensitive spot. She came, so fast and so intensely that consciousness dimmed. She was aware only of his fingers ramming inside her, stoking the fire, burning her up like the sun. When sanity returned, she opened her eyes and saw that his hand was still on her. Its pressure and slight movement sent aftershocks through her. Then he began massaging her. His face was flushed, his eyes sparking in the mirror like blue flames. He said, simply, Again. +++ They stumbled to the bed. Jenns mind was muddled in the aftermath of two climaxes, and Grady was about to die with need. Pressing her down on the mattress, he shucked his sweats; she stretched out; he covered her with his body and took her mouth. Their first real kiss wasnt gentle it was fast. Hard. Furious. He was barely sane as he devoured her, his teeth closing over her bottom lip, nipping it. Need thrummed inside him like an explosion waiting to happen. When she kissed him back, invaded his mouth with her tongue, it detonated. Suddenly, he was on his back. And she was straddling him. He wanted her hands on him, her mouth all over his body. But she continued to only kiss him. His fingers fisted in her hair, keeping her fastened to him. Then her lips found his chest; when she tongued his nipples, he arced forward off the mattress. Her laugh was a seductresss; he gripped her arms, roughly. But when her hand went to his erection and closed around it, his mind blanked. All he could do was feel... slow, strong... up and down... hard... harder... And then her mouth was there. Circling the tip... licking the shaft... and finally, finally taking him in fully. He let it go on until he thought hed burst into a thousand pieces. But he needed to be inside her the first time, so he flipped her over and plunged into her. At the primitive connection with Jenny, his Jenny, he came with volcanic force. 3 A.M. Sit up in the middle of the bed and cross your legs. Since she was high on him, like a sexual junkie who couldnt get enough, she did as she was told. He rose, went to her dresser, and came back with something. From behind, he knelt on the mattress and slid up to her. Close your eyes. Again, no argument. But when she felt something cover her eyes, tie at the back... a blindfold? Jesus. Shh, he said into her ear. Its me, remember. Him, Grady, oh, God... He encompassed her; his chest fitted against her back, his arms encircled her. She could smell him, feel him, his hard thighs imprisoning hers. Then his hands were everywhere. She didnt know she could get aroused so quickly again, but the mental images that danced behind the blindfold went straight to her core. When he fondled her breasts, he whispered, Ive teased you about being small. But these are perfect. He played with one nipple. Just perfect. Arching into his palm, she moaned. When he took her hand and placed it between her legs, she stilled. Gray?

Its okay, just a bit, I want to see you do this. His breath was silky in her ear. For me. She touched herself. Just a bit. Hearing his breath come fast, feeling him harden impossibly against her, she smiled, and continued the gentle rubbing until he took her hand away and replaced it with his own. My turn, he said hoarsely. 4 A.M. Theyd gotten drinks, and he thought it odd she brought in a glass of ice. But the only talking they did was naughty sex talk, so they sipped their beer in silence, holding hands on the bed, not thinking, either, about what they were doing. He was surprised when she took his glass from him and eased him down to the bed. Pleased when she pressed him back into the pillows and switched off the light. Thrilled when she opened his legs and went down on him again. God... the sensation spiraled in him, hot, heavy, and thick with passion.... But he practically ricocheted off the bed when, after bringing him to the brink, as ecstasy clawed to get out, he felt something shockingly cold against his balls. It catapulted him into oblivion. 10 A.M. How can you be hard again? Never happened like this before, he said groggily. Theyd slept, and awakened cuddled into each other. Once again her hand found him. It didnt take long to bring him totally awake. Suddenly she was at the end of the bed, flat on her back, her knees draped over the edge, her feet on the floor. Open for me, baby. He could have done it for her. But his face was intense and he seemed to want the dominance. She did as he ordered. He stood between her legs, then, slipped one hand under her buttocks and lifted them high, throwing her weight onto her shoulders. She gasped at the vulnerable position, at the exciting sensation. He buried himself in her. She moaned. He positioned her legs over his shoulders, then held them there as he began to thrust harder. Gray, she said. The friction against her was almost intolerable. I cant, Gray, its too much, I... She writhed on the bed. Oh, yeah, you can, Jenny. Come again, for me. 1 P.M. She was half on her side, half on her stomach. His hand clasped her breast; hers gripped his shoulder. Theyd made love again, and he was still inside her, from behind. Never in his life had he felt so joined to someone. His mouth on her neck, he inhaled her, tasted her. He could barely see straight, his eyes blurred with fatigue and sexual drunkenness. She said, Gray. Jenny, my Jenny. He reached down and pulled up covers. Clasping her to him, he fell into a deep sleep. The images came then....

Linda, screaming at him, just before he was leaving to take Jenny to the doctor because shed been ill. Youre terrible at this, you know. Terrible at what? Loving me. Its all your fault. What is, Linda? We cant make this work. Were never going to make this work. Maybe its your father, leaving you so young. Maybe its because youre so fucking handsome. He started to walk away. She pulled him back with her next words. Maybe its Jenny Malvaso. What the hell do you mean by that? Shes too important to you. Youd give up your life for her. Sacrifice our marriage for her. No, Linda, shes sick. I just need to take her to the doctor. Fine, go to her. But dont think its going to be any different with her. You destroyed Sheila. Youre destroying me. Youll hurt Jenny, too, just like you do every woman you come near...And youll kill her baby, like you killed mine.... Grady, wake up. No, no, no... Grady. He reached out for purchase. Something shook him awake. Jenny was holding him. He glanced out the window to get his bearings. Holy hell, it was getting dark again. He looked around. The bed was destroyed. His hands tightened on her; he realized they were both naked. It was then he remembered what had happened last night. Jesus Christ, what had they done? Buy AFTER THE FIRE now at your favorite ebook store: http://www.kathrynshay.com/backlist.html

Kathryn Shay has been a lifelong writer and teacher. She has published 46 romance novels with the Berkley Publishing Group and Harlequin Enterprises, 1 mainstream womens fiction with Bold Strokes Books and several online only books. She has won five RT Book Club awards, four Golden Quills, four Holt Medallions, the Booksellers Best Award, Foreword Magazines Book of the Year and several Starred Reviews. Her work has been serialized in Cosmopolitan magazine and featured in The Wall Street Journal and People magazine. There are over five million copies of her books in print. She lives in upstate New York with her husband and children. Visit Kathryns website: www.kathrynshay.com Like Kathryns Facebook page: www.facebook.com/KathrynShay Subscribe to Kathryns e-newsletter: http://on.fb.me/MGucuV

Heavens Fire
Historical Romance

By Patricia Ryan Teaching priest Rainulf Fairfax, doubting both his faith and his value as a teacher, has renounced his vows and set his sights on becoming Chancellor of Oxford, which will require him to remain celibate. This resolve is tested when he offers the protection of his home to Corlissformerly Constancea young woman from the local village of Cuxham whos in hiding from her sadistic overlord. As Rainulfs desire for the beautiful and spirited Corliss deepens, it takes all his strength of will to keep their relationship platonic. Corliss dresses as a boy to avoid detection by her overlord, so Rainulf is able to pass her off as one of his studentsbut her disguise is less than perfect, as she discovers one night when a ruffian tries to rape her at knifepoint, the blade

ending up in his own throat as she fights him off. Having heard her screams, Rainulf pulls the mortally wounded attacker off of Corliss and gathers her up.

Heavens Fire
March, 1161, Oxford, England As Rainulf carried Corliss back to the house, she began to shiver in his arms. Everythings all right, he soothed. Insipid words; nothing was all right. Corliss was hurt. He didnt know how badly, and he dreaded finding out. At his front door, he called, Thomas! Brad! Two sets of footsteps pounded down the stairs, and the door swung open. Rainulf muscled the young students aside and bounded up the steps with Corliss, ignoring their horrified gasps and offers of help. Theyd told him the screams hed heard must have been student horseplay; thank God hed gone to investigate. Magister! Thomas exclaimed as they followed him, stumbling over their feet and each other as they clambered up the stairs. What happened? Burnell attacked her. He heard them hesitate on the stairs, and could sense their bewilderment. Her? Rainulf winced inwardly, wishing hed had more presence of mind than to slip up this way. But could he hope for presence of mind when the woman he loved had been... The woman he loved. God help him. In the well-lit main hall, he paused to look down at her. Corliss. Oh, Corliss. She was covered with blood, covered with it, especially her upper body. The remnants of her shredded clothes were saturated with it, although it seemed to have stopped flowing; it stained her face, matted her hair. Please, God, let her be all right, he prayed, with more pure, simple faith than he had felt in years. He strode into her chamber, shouting commands over his shoulder, which the young men hurried to obey: Unfold that blanket on her bed. Bring me a bowl of water and some clean cloths. And a brazier. She needs warmth. Wrapping her in the blanket, he lay down beside her and enfolded her in his arms. Her trembling had grown into a convulsive shuddering that racked her body, as if a great hand shook her in its grip. There now, its all right, he murmured inanely as he stroked her hair, her face. He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her temple, holding her as tightly as he could. She freed her hands to grip his tunic. Its not that bad, she whispered shakily. Its not Shh, its all right. He kissed her cheek, her hair. Its all right. Rest. He glanced up to find Thomas and Brad exchanging a look, their expressions a mixture of astonishment and concern. I sent for Will Geary, the surgeon, Rainulf told them. Go outside and watch for him. A pointless assignment, but one they eagerly accepted, colliding with each other in their haste to get downstairs. When they were gone, Rainulf gently drew back from Corliss. She clutched at him with palsied hands. Im not going anywhere, he assured her as he dipped a cloth in the water and wrung it out. Just lie back. Yes, like that.

He carefully dabbed her face with the wet cloth, breathing a sigh of relief to find it uninjured, except for a knot on the side of her forehead. For the second time since hed met her, he silently thanked God that her facethat extraordinary, singular facehad been spared. Rinsing out the cloth, he bathed her throat, blotting cautiously when he discovered the nick at its base, already scabbing over. He swore under his breath, imagining the fear that must have consumed her to be at the mercy of that animal. He had a knife? M-my dagger, she rasped. He got it away from me. Your...? Youve been carrying... He grimaced and shook his head. Her eyes clouded with anguish, and she squeezed them shut. You were right when you warned me not to buy one. I was a fool. Her voice quavered so badly, he could scarcely understand her. II didnt know what to do with it. Oh, Rainulf, Im sorry. Her quaking worsened. Im sorry. Shh... She shook her head violently, her eyes glassy. Its all my fault. I should have listened to you. I shouldnt have gone out at night. I shouldnt have bought that Nonsense. He took her face between his hands and forced her to look at him. None of this is your fault. Youre not to blame. What happened was no ones fault but Burnells. Hes a monster. Or was a monster. Chances were good that even now he lay dead on some dark side street. Rainulf dipped the cloth in the bowl again, parted her torn clothes slightly, and pressed it to her bloody chest. She sucked in a breath. Easy, he said. Ill be careful. As delicately as he could, he wiped the blood off her skin, revealing a long, shallow cut running halfway down her chest. He hissed a low oath. He kn-knew I was a w-woman, Corliss said. He wanted to... he tried to... But he didnt. Did he? She shook her head. Nay, you came just in time. I fought him, but he was too strong for me. I broke his nose and his finger, though. He took her in his arms. Good for you. You did well. Im proud of you. Was that the only cut on her chest, he wondered, or were there others? How badly had the son of a bitch hurt her? I need to get this tunic off you. He unbuckled her belt and threw it on the floor, then eased her out of the ruined wool garment and tossed that aside as well. Her bleached linen shirt, once snow white, had turned the brownish red of drying blood. He left it on out of deference to her modesty, but ripped it open the rest of the way, pulling out and discarding the shredded strips of linen that had bound her small breasts. He pushed aside the bloodied halves of the shirt, exposing more of her chest. Taking up the wet cloth, he cleaned the blood off, relieved to find no more wounds. He rinsed the cloth out again and passed it under her shirt at her waist, smoothing it up her side and over a breast. She shivered and threw an arm across her eyes. Did he cut you here? She shook her head. Anywhere else? he asked as he tended to the other side. Nay. Thank God, thought Rainulf, realizing her injuries were far less than hed supposed. Most of the blood must have been Burnells. But... Corliss began. Aye? She turned her face away. He-he touched me, she whispered brokenly. He t-touched

Oh, Corliss. He dropped the cloth in the bowl and wrapped her in his arms, breathing against her hair, Its over. Its over. He cant hurt you anymore. Hes probably dead by now. That was Rainulfs only consolation, the only thing that kept him calm and sane in the face of what had happened to Corliss. His rage toward Burnell was pure and savage; the bastard deserved to pay for his brutality with his life. Was it un-Christian to take satisfaction in his death? He felt a moment of guilta stab of self-doubt: What kind of man am I to rejoice in the death of another? And then Corlisss voice came to him: Save your doubt for the lecture hall, where it belongs. Dont turn it in on yourself. How right shed been. How wise she was. Wiser in many respects than he. He threaded his fingers through Corlisss hair and kissed the glossy black waves. Her trembling had abated, but not gone away entirely. He rubbed her arms and back, murmuring a litany of comforting words. It would have killed him, he realized, had anything happened to her. Shed gotten inside him, become a part of him. How had that happened? He heard voices from the street, and then the door opening; footsteps on the stairs. The surgeons here. He sat up and pulled the two sides of her shirt together. Stay here with me, she pleaded. He smoothed her hair off her face. Of course. The leather curtain parted, and Will Geary hurried into the chamber, bag in hand. They told me someone was hurt, Will said. Corliss? What happened, boy? Corliss glanced uneasily toward Rainulf. Taking a deep breath, he said, Can I trust you to keep your counsel about something, Will? Something important? Of course. The young woman who disappeared from Cuxham, the one Sir Roger Foliot is looking for... Will nodded. Rainulf took Corlisss hand. The surgeon blinked. His eyes grew round. His mouth opened, then shut, then opened again. And then he laughed in astonishment. Well! Id just about decided you preferred boys, and here youve been hiding your mistress in your own home, dressed as a Shes not my mistress, Rainulf hastily corrected, squeezing Corlisss hand. I took her in to protect her. Wills gaze took in Corlisss chausses, and he smiled. Very clever, young lady. Thank you. Her trembling had let up, but she was parchment pale, and her eyes were pools of sadness. Is this the only cut? Will asked, indicating the small gash on her throat. Nay. She parted her shirt just enough for the surgeon to see the long dagger wound that marred her chest. He frowned. Vicious bastard. He grinned sheepishly at Corliss. Pardon the language. I dont quite think of you as a woman yet. Thats all right, Corliss mumbled. Rainulf didnt like the lack of spark in her eyes, the apathy in her expression. It was so unlike her. Even under the most trying of circumstances even when shed been ravaged by smallpoxshed retained her... sense of herself, her love of life, her irrepressible humor. But now... Rainulf shook his head. She was just a shell that looked like Corliss, but didnt have Corliss inside it. There was more of Corliss in him right now than there seemed to be in her.

This will sting, Will warned her before cleaning her wounds with something from a small flask. She gripped Rainulfs hand painfully as the surgeon sponged on the fluid, apologizing all the while. These cuts arent very deep at all, he assured her. Although Ive no doubt they hurt. They should heal quickly, without scarring. Dont bother bandaging themjust keep them clean. Ill leave this salve for them. He placed a small jar on the night table. Thats all I can do. Will packed up his things, then rose and took his leave, promising to return at a moments notice if they needed him again. Rainulf swore Thomas and Brad to secrecy, then sent them home. Returning to the bedchamber, he found Corliss staring at the canopy above her, expressionless. He sat on the edge of the bed. Are you all right? She mumbled something shakily that sounded like He touched me. Rainulf leaned closer. Who? Will? She sat up and looked down at herself with an expression of revulsion. Burnell. Wrapping her arms around herself, she closed her eyes tight. I can feel his hands on me. Everywhere he touched me, I can feel his hands. Rainulf encircled her with his arms. Hes gone, Corliss. Hes dead. I can smell him, she choked. I can smell him on me. And his blood... Ill never get it off. Staring in horror at her bloody arms and chest, she began to shake again. He held her tightly. You can wash it off, Corliss. All of it, the blood, the smell... and then hell be gone. You can wash him off with soap and water. She shook her head, but he was insistent. Ill heat up some water for a bath. Twill work. Youll see. He put the kettle on and dragged the bathtub into her chamber, next to the brazier for warmth. Sitting next to her, he took her hand; it felt as lifeless as she looked. It didnt take long for the water to heat. Rainulf filled the wooden tub and left her, pulling the curtain closed behind him. Then he poured himself a brandy in the main hall. He heard the water being displaced as she got in the tub, and turned automatically toward the sound. Through a narrow gap in the curtain, he saw a flicker of pale flesh as she sat in the tub. The sight reminded him of that time hed seen her bathing at Blackburn Castle, and it made him ache in the same way; it made him long to touch and hold and possess that which he had only ever seen in brief, tantalizing glimpses. He exchanged his bloodstained shirt for a fresh one, then nursed the brandy for some time, letting his thoughts float where they would. He mused on the chancellorship, wondering how it would feel to give up teaching for the sterile, dispassionate arena of administration. He thought about Corliss, and how she had forced him to feel what he hadnt felt in years, as well as some thingslike his love for herthat hed never felt. Shed made him human again. Shed awakened him, as if hed been a hibernating creature and shed reached into his hole and dragged him, growling and clawing, out into the sunlight. A soft sound from the bedchamber drew his attention, and he stilled, straining to hear. An indrawn breath... and another... and another, this time with a slight hitch. He stood, set down his cup, and crossed to the leather curtain. Corliss? She didnt answer, but he could hear muffled gasps; not gasps, but sobs being choked back. Corliss. Are you all right? Foolish question, not deserving of an answer; none was forthcoming. Im coming in, Corliss. He paused, then drew aside the curtain.

She sat facing away from him in the big wooden tub, her arms wrapped tightly around her updrawn knees, her bare back shaking, although little sound came from her. He had the sense that she was trying to contain her sobs, but having a hard time of it. He circled the tub and knelt in front of her. She lowered her head to her knees, her fine-boned shoulders convulsing with the strain it took to keep from crying out loud. He wove his fingers through her damp hair, stroking her scalp. Her nudityalthough he could see little of her in the dim lamplight, tightly enfolded as she wasenhanced her aura of vulnerability. The effort it cost her to fight her tears broke his heart. Let it out, Corliss, he softly urged. Go ahead. Cry. She shook her head. Yes. He gently rubbed her wet shoulders and back. Come on. Leaning over, he kissed her on the top of her head. That simple gesture of affection seemed to push her over the edge, robbing her of her hard-fought control. She cried in earnest, shaking with her sobs, tears streaming down her reddened face. Thats right, he soothed, holding her as best he could. Thats right. Twill make you feel better. Everythings all right. She shook her head. Yes, it is. N-nay, she choked out. Im a f-fool. No youre not. I told youyou didnt bring this on yourself. None of this is your fault. You know that in your heart. Dont torment yourself this way. He murmured reassurances to her for some time, until her tears diminished and her breathing steadied. Theyd switched positions, he realized. Always in the past, shed been the one trying to cheer him up, to encourage him to accept what he knew in his heart and stop analyzing things. Now it was the other way around. He didnt seem to be doing a very good job of it, though. She may have stopped crying, but she looked miserable, devastated. Still curled into a tight ball, she rubbed her face, her breath catching as she struggled to regain her composure. Here. He rose and fetched the towel shed laid out to dry herself off with. Standing behind her, he unfolded the large square of linen and held it open. Stand up. She hesitated; then, apparently realizing the towel would shield her from his view, she stood. He wrapped the big cloth around her and supported her as she stepped out of the tub. Taking her in his arms, he rubbed her through the linen. How do you feel? She shrugged. He sighed and held her close, feeling her trembling heat through the thin, damp cloth. Something inside him unfurled, warming him from within. It was something hed never felt before: part protectiveness and part desire. He wanted to shelter her. He also wanted to join his body with hers. As he held her, the two urges merged into something unique and strangely powerful. So this is what it feels like to love a woman. He left the chamber to give her some privacy, returning once shed changed into her nightgownone of the silk shifts Martine had given her. While he emptied and removed the bathtub, she sat on the edge of her bed, hands curled limply in her lap, eyes vacant. Kneeling at her feet, Rainulf enclosed her hands in his, rubbing her palms with his thumbs. She still gazed at nothing, lost in her melancholy. He felt so helpless, so useless, so terrified to see her this way.

I dont know what to do, what to say to ease your sadness, he whispered hoarsely. Youre so much better at this than I am. She bit her lip; tears welled in her eyes. He lowered his head to her lap and wrapped his arms around her waist. God, no, dont cry. I didnt mean to make you cry again. He felt her fingers in his hair and felt a flutter of optimism. She wasnt completely closed off from him; he was doing some good. He raised his head and found her looking at him. Forcing a smile, he reached up and stroked her cheek. She closed her eyes. His gaze followed the curve of her throat to the nick at its base. The long scratch down her chest was hidden by her silk shift, which laced down the front. Did you put on the salve Will left? She shook her head. I forgot, she said, her voice rusty from crying. Rainulf got up and fetched the little jar. Lie down. She scooted back on the bed and lay with her head on the pillow. Sitting beside her, he opened the jar and dipped a finger into the amber-colored balm. She closed her eyes, tilting her chin up to give him access to her throat, and he dabbed the salve gingerly on the little cut. He hesitated for just a moment before untying the cord that laced her shift closed. She opened her eyes and looked at him, but he avoided her gaze. Drawing the cord through the eyelets carefully, to avoid irritating her wound, he slowly unlaced the gown almost to the waist. He pushed aside the silk, then dipped up some more salve. Starting at the top of the shallow cut, he applied the soothing medication with as gentle a touch as he could manage. Her breathing quickened as he slowly worked his way down the shallow cut; so did his. When he was done, he cleared his throat. Does it still hurt? Nay. She hadnt looked away from him this whole time. The one on my neck does a little. Bending down, he softly pressed his lips to one side of the little wound. He felt her pulse speed up just beneath the hot satin skin, felt her throat move as she swallowed. The sensation was unexpectedly erotic; he felt a heaviness in his lower body, felt his chausses stretch as he grew hard. He kissed her throat again and again, all overwhisper-soft kisses, his lips barely grazing the creamy flesh. Taking her head gently between his hands and tilting it, he touched his lips to the underside of her jaw, which was indescribably, unbearably soft; and then to the edge of the jaw itself, bestowing a path of soft kisses along the graceful curve of bone beneath smooth-stretched skin. When his mouth passed lightly over her ear, she took in a startled little breath. Closing his lips over her delicate earlobe, he touched his tongue to it, and heard her sigh. He tangled his hands in her hair, half-dried by the warm night air into unruly curls. Hers skimmed upward from his elbows, braced on either side of her, to his shoulders, which she gripped ever more tightly in response to his gentle attentions. Kissing her cheek, he tasted salt. Without thinking, he licked her dried tears. Instinct had taken over; his analytical mind had shut down. Hed never felt so unencumbered, so free of restraint, so driven. The heat that consumed him wasnt limited to his stiff and aching member; his entire bodyhis very soulfelt as if it were on the verge of crisis ofwhat? Not pleasure, more than pleasure. Rapture. He vibrated with a power and energy that went beyond lust, that promised limitless possibilities. Corlisss eyelids were puffy; he pressed his lips to them, and then to the tip of her nose, pink and shiny. His mouth hovered over hers now, and for the first time, he looked her directly in the

eyes. Her pupils were enormous black pools encircled with flecks of bronze and copper and gold. She met his gaze unwaveringly, but with a sharp little glimmer of wonder, a spark that shot between them like heat lightning. He felt the same wonder, the same ecstatic incredulity. They smiled into each others eyes, two beings with the same thought, the same desire, the same driving need; Rainulf had never experienced such intimacy with anyone. He looked at her lips, blood flushed and swollen from crying; his own lips tingled with the need to touch them. The prospect of kissing her, after all these months of wanting to, imagining it, craving it, filled him with a drunken excitement that made his senses whirl. She watched him intently, her breath coming faster, as he lowered his mouth on hers. The moment before contact, she closed her eyes, and so did he. Her lips were warm satin beneath his, and they tasted of her tears. He kissed her lightly at first, barely brushing her lips with his, reveling in her soft sighs of capitulation and pleasure wordless promises of things to come. Her hands roamed over his shoulders through his linen shirt, meeting behind his neck to bring him closer. He deepened the kiss, devouring her mouth, greedy for that which hed imagined so vividly and waited for so long. Flicking his tongue across her lips, he darted it between them until it found her own. She gasped. He opened his eyes and saw her bewildered expression. Had she never felt a mans tongue in her mouth before? Clearly not. Just as shed never been properly bedded, shed never been well and thoroughly kissed. Despite her sexual experience, there was an untapped innocence about Corliss. The same could be said of him, of course; eleven years had passed since hed lain with a woman. If Corliss had much to learn, so did he; they must teach each other. He kissed her again, at first chastely, murmuring reassurances, then lightly stroking the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue. She quivered. Let me in, he breathed. Another light caress of the tongue, and another... Her lips parted tremulously, and his tongue slipped between them... to meet hers. Yes... She held him by the back of the head as she explored this new pleasure. A hum of satisfaction coursed through him. He settled against her, one leg resting between hers, his erection hard against her stomach. She pressed her hands to the small of his back to urge him closer. He thrust against her just once, then held himself still, sucking in a breath. Its too soon... Youre too close. Breaking the kiss, he shifted his weight and moved down, lowering his mouth to her collarbone. He touched it with his lips, and she shivered. Easing aside the silk, he trailed kisses along the delicate ridge, and back again. He lay next to her and kissed a slow path adjacent to the thin red line etched down the center of her chest, breathing in the sweetness of her skin mingled with the herbal salve. He felt her silk-clad breast against the side of his face, felt her nipple stiffen as his cheek grazed it. Arousal flared within him, and he tightened his arms around her. When he felt her hands in his hair, he heard a low, shuddering groan, and realized it had come from him. Overwhelmed with sensation, Corliss closed her eyes. She felt the soft flax of his hair between her fingers, felt the heat of his breath through the thin silk covering her breast. Her melancholy, so bleak and suffocating, had evaporated almost completely, like nighttime fog burned off by the hot morning sun. Again she felt, through the sleek fabric, the pressure of his cheekscratchy with the slight growth of beard that always darkened it in the evening. This time, she knew, the contact was

deliberate. He nuzzled her, gently rubbing his prickly jaw on her tender flesh. The friction against her nipple sparked little thrills of pleasure that coursed throughout her, coming together between her legs like streaks of lightning converting at a single white-hot target point. She felt a shivery heat and realized he was kissing her breast through the shift. Her heart pumped so hard, it hurt. She arched her back. His lips brushed her nipple, and she gasped. Impatiently sweeping aside the silk, he closed his mouth over the tight little bud. So hot. So hot and wet. She moaned softly as Rainulf gently tugged on her supersensitive nipple, caressing it with his tongue. He threw a long leg over hers and let the hard length of his erection rest against her thigh. For a timeless, dreamy interlude, they lay together like that, Rainulf suckling while she spiraled slowly upward, into a state of breathless arousal. She felt dampness between her legs, little pulses of pleasure. When he finally moved, it was to slide his hot, rough hand beneath the silk and close it over her other breast. He squeezed her gently, fondling her nipple until she thought shed scream. She writhed as his mouth and hand worked their dark sorcery; he tensed his hips, pressing himself against her thigh. Her own hips moved without her willing it. He answered her unspoken need by smoothing his hand downward from her breast until it found the white-hot need between her legs. Oh, God, she thought as he caressed her through the damp silk, Im going to go mad from pleasure. He pulled her shift up and glided his hand between her legs. The first light probing of his fingers galvanized her. She moaned unselfconsciously, clutching at his hair as he explored her wet recesses. It was tormentsweet, unbearable torment. Rainulf... Rainulf... He raised his head and met her gaze. His eyes glittered with the same wolflike hunger shed seen one time before, when hed gotten up and walked away from her at Blackburn Castle. This time, she knew, he would not walk away. This time he would find what he wantedwhat they both wanted. He sat beside her and whipped his shirt off over his head, then untied his chausses and kicked them off. God, hes magnificent! She sat up, staring openly as he kneeled before her, gathering her shift in his clutched hands. From wide, sinuous shoulders, his torso was carved in a graceful contour, sloping dramatically toward narrow hips. He was the epitome of masculine strength and beauty. Rainulf pulled the nightgown over her head and smiled. For a few hushed moments, they just looked at each other, naked together for the first time. Rainulfs lean body vibrated with immense strength held in reserve. His arms and legs, banded with muscle, might have been those of a stonecutter. On one side of his lower abdomen, just beneath the taut surface, a single vein snaked from hipbone to pubic hair. Her gaze was drawn to the straining organ rising from that hair. It gleamed silkily in the lamplight, a tiny teardrop at the tip. So... arousal makes him wet, too. It seemed she had much to learn about men, after all. Rainulf reached out almost tentatively and trailed his fingertips over her face, her throat, her shoulders, breasts, belly, and hips. God, you are so beautiful, he whispered. I cant believe how beautiful you are. So are you. She ran her fingers through the impossibly soft fur that blanketed his solid chest, following it down to the dense tangle between his legs. He sucked in a breath when her

hand brushed his rampant sex. She lightly touched it, and he gripped her shoulders hard. Drawing her hand up its taut length, she smoothed the hot little droplet with her fingertips. He growled low in his throat. Corliss... She glided her moist fingers down the quivering shaft, and up again. He groaned and grabbed her wrist, then seized her by the back of the head and took her mouth in a hard, searing kiss, his beard abrading the tender skin around her lips. The rhythmic invasion of his tongue felt so frankly sexual that she moved her body against him; he grabbed her hips and thrust hard against her belly. She wrapped her arms around him flinching when his chest hair came in contact with her dagger wound. He backed away sharply. Corliss! God, Im such an ass. What am I doing? What I want you to do. She tried to embrace him, but he held her at arms length. I cant. Twill hurt you. She laughed incredulously and grabbed him around the neck, pulling him down on top of her as she fell backward onto the bed. If you dont, Ill hurt you! He chuckled as he lowered himself carefully, holding himself up on his elbows to keep his weight off her. It so gratified her to hear his easy laughter; to see the way he looked at her with such longing; and to feel him hot and hard and ready between her legs. She was ready, too; she throbbed with need. He nudged her wet opening. She closed her hands over his shoulders and arched against him, begging him wordlessly to fill her. Now. Nay, he whispered, poised to enter her but making no move to do so. Beneath her hands, the hard muscles of his shoulders quivered with strain. His face was darkly flushed and the little vein on his forehead pulsed. Rainulf... Oh, God... Frustration swelled in her throat, tears stung her eyes. Had he changed his mind? After all those years of celibacy, had he decided, at the last moment, that he couldnt do this? He shook his head. Corliss, I cant No! without telling you Dont do this! The tears spilled out; her chest shook. God, Rainulf, dont stop now. Stop? An astonished huff of laughter escaped him. I couldnt stop now. I just need you to know that I love you. His voice caught. To her astonishment, his eyes shimmered wetly. I love you, Corliss. Im in love with you. He flexed his hips. She felt the broad, wet tip of him inch into her, just enough to stretch her open. Oh, God... She laughed and cried as he paused and then pressed in againa delicious, almost painful intrusion, sharply pleasurable. I love you, too. Taking his face between her hands, she kissed him. I love you. And again. I love you. Ive always loved you. Rainulf watched the tears spill down her cheeks: hers and his, mingling together. She loves me! Corliss loves me! She threw her head back, her eyes half-closed in ecstasy, smiling that guilelessly joyful smile of hers. He should have known that shed approach lovemaking as she did the rest of life: eagerly and uninhibitedly, with an awe-inspiring sense of wonder. And she loved him! She loved him! Painfully aroused, he longed to drive himself into her with one fierce stab, but she was so extremely tight that he worried about hurting her. Instead, he gritted his teeth against that urge and pushed in slowly, again and again, easing farther and farther into her as she stretched around his unyielding thickness.

Her hips trembled, her breath came in frantic little pants. Just seeing her like thishalfdelirious with pleasure as her climax approachednearly stripped him of his resolve to go slowly. That resolve vanished altogether when she reached around him to slide her hands from the small of his back to his buttocks, pressing down harda wordless but eloquent entreaty, and one that he couldnt resist. Bracing himself on one forearm, he reached beneath her and tilted her hips up. He withdrew to the tip, then thrust forcefully, sheathing himself completely within her. They groaned in unison. God, it was incredible, being buried deep inside hereven better than hed imagined it would be, better than all his exaggerated memories of women from his past. He did feel virginal. This might as well have been the first time hed ever lain with a woman. It felt extraordinary the slick, tight heat and maddening pressure, compelling him all too swiftly toward completion. Pulling almost all the way out, he sank in again to the hilt. Oh, God... She grew rigid, clutching his back. With his next thrust, she cried outa raw, womanly cry of fulfillmentas her body convulsed, rocking beneath him. From deep within her, a succession of spasms gripped him, like a slippery hand stroking, pulling, squeezing... Not yet... not yet... Gripping her hair in his fists, he tried to hold still, to make it last, but her ecstatic cries and movements, and the rhythmic contractions pumping him from within, undid him. His body took overtightening, arching, ramming deep, deep inside her. Pleasure gathered, drew up, erupted, shooting into her with astonishing force, wracking him with its power. For a few endless moments, he couldnt think or see or hear. His blood ceased to flow; his lungs ceased to breathe. He came with luxurious intensity, as if his entire body were coming, filling her with his essence, his seed, his love. When his ears stopped ringing and his body stopped quaking, he became aware of hands on his shoulders, pushing. He opened his eyes to find himself lying heavy and sated atop Corliss, his head limp in the crook of her neck, his face buried in her fragrant hair. She was trying to push him off her... Her cut! He was hurting her. Oh, God. He levered himself up, taking his weight on his arms. Corliss, Im sor Pressing her fingertips to his mouth, she smiled. Shh. She caressed his beard-roughened cheek and jaw and chin. I wish Id shaved for you, he said. Nay, I like it. She grinned and bit her lip. I like the way it scratches me. She stretched like a cat, then pressed down again on his buttocks. And I love feeling you inside me. I want you to stay inside me forever. Id give anything if that were possible. For a moment, he sobered, as the reality of their situation intruded on his bliss. They were lovers now, he and Corliss. Lovers, and in more than a physical sense. He loved her. He needed her, wanted her. He also needed and wanted the chancellorship, to which he would be appointed within the next few weeks. A man with a mistress might teach, if he were willing to forsake higher administrative posts, but he could not hold the position of Chancellor of Oxford. And any attempt to keep a secret loverin or out of his homewas pointless, of course. Hed seen colleagues ruined more than once over a woman they were convinced would never be discovered.

Her hand lightly stroking his furrowed brow drew him out of his dark ruminations. You mustnt be sad, she gently scolded. He expelled a long, troubled sigh, and rested his forehead against hers. But what are we Shh. She caressed his hair, his neck and shoulders. Were going to love each other. For as long as it lasts. But I want it to last forever. So do I. I wish it could. She did, desperately. But the unalterable truth was that it couldnt. It was a painful truth, unbearably painful, and one that she couldnt bear to contemplate right now, with his arms around her, his body inside hers. Promise me, she said, that you wont think of these things while were together. We only have until the end of the summer, when the chancellorship is decided. Lets spend that time making each other happy. Smiling, she wrapped her legs around his waist. Lets spend it making love. He smiled, too. Vixen. Youve always been adept at changing the subject. Slipping an arm beneath her, he scooped her upstill intimately connected to him, with her legs encircling him and sat back on his heels. She laughed delightedly, never having conceived that a man and a woman could be joined in such a position. Gripping her hips, he drove into her, quick and fierce. I want to feel you come again, he whispered gruffly. His erection had waned, of course, but he was still mostly hard, and the friction of his thrusts against her slippery-wet sex was incredibly stimulating. Closing her eyes, she held on to his shoulders and arched her back, matching his vigorous strokes with her own. God, youre beautiful, he rasped. So beautiful. They connected with increasing urgency, the bed ropes creaking in time to their ragged gasps. He moaned, and she realized hed grown fully erect again. His shoulders felt slippery beneath her hands, like rain-slicked rocks. Opening her eyes, she saw that he was wet with perspiration. So was she; he could barely keep a grip on her hips. He had his head thrown back, his expression one of excruciating pleasure, the cords on his neck standing out in sharp relief. Oh... oh, God... With a guttural growl, he shuddered, his fingers digging into her hips. He rammed her down hard on his pulsing organ. She felt the hot jetting of his seed inside her, and then her own climax was upon her, exploding from their joined flesh and rolling throughout her, shaking her senseless. Oh, yes, she thought as the tremors diminished and he eased her down to lie next to him, their bodies, breathless and soaking wet, still joined, his arms gathering her to him, his kisses all over her face hot and sweet and a little rough, a little unbearably, heartbreakingly scratchy... I want him to stay inside me forever. Forever and ever... Buy HEAVENS FIRE now at your favorite ebook store: http://www.patricia-ryan.com/medievalromances/heavensfire.html

Patricia Ryan, aka P.B. Ryan, is the author of 27 romances and mysteries, which have been critically praised and published in over twenty countries. Silken Threads, a novel of medieval romantic suspense inspired by Hitchcocks Rear Window, won Romance Writers of Americas RITA Award for Best Long Historical Romance. A four-time RITA nominee, she is also the recipient of three Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Awards and RWAs Golden Heart. Pat tapped into her fascination with 19th century urban America to create the popular Nell Sweeney mysteries, which are set in post-Civil War Boston. The first book of the series, Still Life With Murder, has been the #1 bestselling ebook at Barnes & Noble, and Murder in a Mill Town was a finalist for the Mary Higgins Clark Award. Pats medieval and contemporary romances and historical mysteries are all available as eBooks. Before becoming a full-time novelist, Pat worked in publishing, promoting academic books and editing law books. She finds romance and mystery much, much more satisfying. Visit Pats website: http://www.patricia-ryan.com Like Pats Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/#!/AuthorPatriciaRyan Subscribe to Pats e-newsletter: http://www.patricia-ryan.com/home.html

Just Perfect
Perfect Trilogy Contemporary Romance

By Julie Ortolon ER Dr. Christine Ashton thinks shes fallen victim to her old weakness for gorgeous but irresponsible men when she first meets Alec Hunter, her hunky ski instructor. She traveled to Colorado as part of a pact she made with her three closest friends, who have just learned a fourth friend used them as negative examples in her bestselling self-help book, How to Have a Perfect Life. Each friend has one year to prove Ms. Perfect is wrong about them. Which makes Alec Hunter off limits, no matter how much her body begs her to give into temptation. Fate intervenes when a snowmobiling accident reveals Alec is far from a barely employed ski bum. Hes a highly-trained head of Alpine Search and Rescue. Adrenaline and attraction prove a heady mix during the aftermath of the rescue mission and Christine and Alec give in to desire with enough heat to melt the mountains. Forcing Christine to face her toughest battle of all: choosing between her dream job back home and her dream man in Colorado.

Just Perfect
As afternoon drifted toward evening, the stories continued to flow. Mellow from the beer and fatigue, Christine rested her head on Alecs shoulder and watched the fire. His hand moved lazily up and down the outside of her thigh, stirring a low hum of desire deep in her belly. In the corner, someone dropped money in the jukebox and punched in the number for a slow, sexy ballad. As the song played, he nuzzled her hair. Hey, he said near her ear. Youre not falling asleep on me, are you? No. She smiled, thinking her body was far from that. Lifting her head, she watched the firelight play over his face and wished they were alone so she could take his mouth in a long, deep kiss. Dance with me? Ah He hesitated, then spoke low so only she could hear his words. Im not sure standing up right now is a good idea.

His chagrined expression told her he was more than a little aroused and didnt want to announce his state to the whole group. She smiled, slow and sexy, and let her eyelids lower. That wasnt a request. His brows went up. Are you ordering me? Do you have a problem with that? He seemed nonplussed for a second, then looked down toward his lap and back up into her eyes. Apparently not. Good. Sliding her legs off his lap, she stood with him coming up behind her in one fluid motion. He clamped his hands to her hips to keep her close in front of him as they left the fire pit. A few of the volunteers glanced up but went right back to their conversations. While vacationers crowded the tables, the dance floor was empty. When he pulled her into his arms, she discovered just how aroused he was. Her eyes widened as her body heated even more. I have a question, he said, moving his body against her as they danced. Yes? She shook her hair back, trying to look calm when everything inside her longed to jump him right there on the dance floor. How far are we going to take you ordering me around? What do you mean? Well... A line formed between his brows as he considered. For instance, is there going to be any begging on the evenings agenda? That startled her. I... hadnt thought of that. Oh. His expression went flat. She narrowed her eyes. Do you want there to be? I dont know. Shrugging, he moved her in a circle that had their thighs rubbing together. Ive never, you know... Gotten into dominatrices? S and M? He shook his head, then raised a brow. You? No. She laughed at the idea. I know some people think Im bossy, but Im not into ordering people around that way. Oh. He frowned. She studied him. Do you want me to? I didnt think so. He made another turn, pulling her close enough for her to feel that hed gone even harder. But my body sure seems intrigued by the idea. There was certainly no denying that! She licked her suddenly dry lips. So, um, if I asked you to beg me for say, the privilege of pleasuring my body, youd do it? His hand slid up her back, sending shivers of desire racing through her. Are you asking? She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his earlobe. Maybe. He missed a step and groaned. Oh God, youre killing me. Really? She rubbed her hips against his. You feel very much alive to me. That could be rigor mortis setting in. Do I need to check you for a pulse? His face looked intent in the dim light of the bar. I think youd better. She pressed her lips to his throat, licked his skin with the tip of her tongue and felt the rumble of his moan. Pulling back, she smiled. Patients pulse is strong but elevated. Only because Im about to have a coronary. Good thing Im a doctor.

So what does the doctor order? That the patient submit to a thorough examination. As a trained paramedic, I must concur. He stopped abruptly and took her hand firmly in his. Follow me. He tugged her off the dance floor. Harvey, he called to the bartender. Ill catch you tomorrow. Okay, man, Harvey called back. The gang around the fire frowned as they moved passed them. Youre leaving? Jeff asked. Yep. Alec nodded. Im going to walk the doc home, then turn in myself. Steve scowled at him. Since when are you the first to leave a party? Must be getting old. Alec grinned, then gave Christine a heated look as they pulled on their coats. Cold slapped Christines cheeks as she and Alec hurried from the pub all but tripping over their feet in their eager haste. The sun had slipped behind Silver Mountain, casting a dusk-like shadow over the village. This way. Alec jerked his head. Huddling inside her coat, she followed him around to the side of the building. They stopped at a door between the back of the pub and a ski shop. He held it open for. Rather than a fancy lobby, this space was barely larger than a landing with a row of mailboxes and stairs leading up. The instant Alec slipped in behind her, he pinned her against the wall. His mouth swept down over hers. Surprise came first, followed by a heady excitement to finally be able to kiss him with no people looking on. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she welcomed the wild play of lips and tongue. Their bodies molded chest to chest, hip to hip. The bulge of his erection against her belly made her eager to get even closer. To get skin to skin. Somewhere overhead a door slammed. They jerked apart, glancing up, then sagged with relief when no one appeared at the top of the stairs. Sorry. Laughing, Alec rested his forehead against hers, breathing hard. Youve had me so hot for so long, Im pretty much on the edge here. Ill try to slow down. Dont you dare. She grabbed the front of his parka and brought them nose to nose. In fact, if you dont get me somewhere private in the next two seconds, Alec Hunter, I swear Im going to rip your clothes off right here. His eyes widened. My apartments this way. He took her hand and dashed up the stairs to a narrow hallway. At the first door on the right, he reached into his pocket. Dang it! What? I left my keys somewhere. What! She wanted to slug him. How could he get her this revved up, then say they had nowhere to go and do something about it? Its okay. He smiled as if reading her mind. Reaching overhead, he retrieved a single key from the top of the doorframe. I have plenty of spares. She laughed in relief. He unlocked the door and herded her inside. Even as he closed the door, they came together with greedy hands and hungry mouths. She felt him fumble for a light switch, but he abandoned the effort. Enough light spilled in through a window for them to see each other. They shed their jackets, then tugged at sweaters. Bed, she managed between kisses.

This way. His mouth on hers, he walked backward, leading the way. They moved across the room, fumbling with clothes, stumbling over God-knew-what. With sweaters gone, they worked at losing their boots without breaking the kiss. They bumped into a coffee table and something thudded to the floor. The arm of a sofa nearly sent them tumbling. Then finally, finally, they passed through a doorway into a darker room, tripped over objects scattered on the floor, and landed with a bounce on an unmade bedher favorite kind. She grinned as he came down on top of her. Eager to touch and be touched, she turned him on to his back and straddled him as she worked the top of his long johns over his head. She ran her hands over his hard chest and taut stomach, enjoying the heat of his smooth skin, but it wasnt enough. Hang on. She planted a quick kiss on his mouth, then scrambled off the bed and out of her clothes at record speed. Finally naked, she started to jump back on the bed but came up short at the sight that greeted her. From the light seeping past the blinds she saw hed shed his clothes as well. He reclined in the middle of the rumpled bed, his weight on his elbows and one leg bent. Oh my. She blinked at his erection, which was... impressively proportioned to a man of his height. Uncertainty and excitement hit her at once. Dragging her gaze to his face, she saw the glitter of desire in his eyes as he openly admired her naked body. He looked as if he could devour her in one greedy bite. Then his eyes lifted to hers and he held out his hand. Come here. A thrill raced through her when he tugged her back onto the bed, then rolled on top of her, kissing her deeply. One of his hands swept down her thigh, pulling her leg around his hip. She reveled in the feel of his back muscles moving beneath her hands and the jut of his erection pressing against her stomach. She pushed against his shoulder, protesting the position. He rolled on to his back, bringing her with him, until she straddled him once more. Sitting up, she drank her fill of his beautiful body as her hands played over his chest, tracing the contours of his muscles, teasing his flat male nipples to hard peaks. He brushed her hair behind her back so he could touch her as well. She arched into his palms as he cupped her breasts. Lightly pinching her nipples, he smiled up at her, his eyes smoldering. Is this where you break out the whips and leather and tell me to beg? She gave a throaty laugh at the wicked image that popped into her head. Another time. Maybe. Leaning forward, she kissed him long and hard. Lifting her head, she smiled into his eyes. Right now, I have other things in mind. Oh? he queried, then sighed another oh as she kissed her way down his chest and over his abs. Her hair flowed like silk against his heated skin as she moved lower, teasing him with her tongue. Oh God, yes, he thought as she took him into her mouth. He buried his hands in her hair and enjoyed. Arousal built and rippled through his body as everything in him focused on the exquisite sensation of having her pleasure him. A part of him wanted it to go on forever. Another part wanted to roll her over and thrust inside her until they both climaxed in a mindless burst. As she drove him toward the edge, he moved his hands to the sheets and gripped them tight, fighting for control. Enough! he panted, seeing spots of light in the air. With a rumbling laugh, she released him and started her way back up his body, driving him crazy with her tongue. He felt her mumble something against his abdomen. What was that shed said? Condom. Oh, um... Think! Nightstand. Top drawer. She rose up on her knees with one hand planted beside his head as she reached for the nightstand. The position had her breasts dangling conveniently near his mouth. Cupping them

with his hands, he took full advantage, suckling one nipple as his fingers toyed with the other. She whimpered softly, and he grinned with pure carnal satisfaction. Then he moaned in protest when she sat back on his thighs, taking her breasts with her. Although, the view certainly made up for a lot. She had an incredible body, taut and toned with smooth creamy skin. He watched, mesmerized as she tore the foil packet open, then slowly, oh God, so slowly, covered him. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head from the feel of her fingers on his sensitized flesh. It fits, she said with surprise, before giving him a look of naughty delight. I was worried it wouldnt be long enough. The way she said it, and the look in her eyes, made his groin muscles jerk. Oh God, he groaned. If youre trying to make me go off early, youre about to succeed. She leaned forward, took his lower lip in her mouth, then pulled back, releasing it slowly. If you do, Ill have to find some way to make you pay penance. Cupping the back of her head, he held her for a second kiss, then looked into her eyes. How about I promise to worship your body for an hour however you want to make up for it? That would do it. She smiled against his mouth. He started to close his eyes when he felt her heat press against him, then forced them back open. This was one sight he didnt want to miss: Christines face as she sank slowly over him, taking him inside her inch by wonderful inch. A little frown puckered her brow and she stopped. God, she was tight. A spear of panic went through him. He didnt want to hurt her, and this position would have him going deep. Although it gave her the control she seemed to want. She lifted up and sank back down, going a little farther each time. Thinking hed die if she didnt take all of him, he moved a hand to her mound and teased her with his thumb to ease her way. Finally, she had him completely, gloriously embedded inside her. Her head fell back and she moaned as if shed just swallowed a delicious treat. He stared at her, awed by the sight, not just by her physical beauty, but her open sexuality, her lack of pretension, her eagerness to play. Everything about her drew him to her, made him crave her. Something clicked inside him, like the final tumbler of a lock that had been steadily falling into place since the moment hed first met her. And when she tipped her head forward again, opened her eyes, and smiled down at him, he knewin one lightning bolt, clarifying moment that he was in love. This was it. She was it. Hed found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life loving. Thunderstruck by the idea, he went rigidly still as she began to move. His thoughts scattered, but his body had no trouble staying on track. He hardened even more as she drove them both steadily toward a pinnacle of pleasure. What a wild feeling to have joy fill his mind with his body on the verge of exploding. You look very happy, she said, making him smile even more. Mmm, he managed, wondering how shed react when he told her. Come here, he said instead. Obliging, she leaned forward to kiss him. He tunneled his hands into her hair, holding her head as he took over the kiss, pouring every ounce of crazy emotion rushing through him into the dance of lips and tongue. His heart hammered as the pace increased and she arched to catch her breath.

His hands swept down her back, soothing and encouraging. When she started to peak, he squeezed her bottom tightly. Her gasp of fulfillment shot him up and over as well. Snapping free of the strange paralysis, he arched upward, thrusting himself deep over and over, welcoming a shattering release more powerful than anything hed ever experienced. When his mind cleared, he found her draped over his chest, breathing hard. Struggling to get his heart and lungs to slow down, he wrapped his arms around her, drifted for a moment, then kissed her temple, which was damp at the hairline. So, he thought, mentally practicing the words as he stroked her back, what would you think about marrying me? He felt her body jerk in surprise and realized he hadnt thought the words. Hed said them out loud! Holding his breath, he waited for her reaction. She lifted her head and stared at him with horrified eyes. That ishe shrugged as casually as he could manage while having a heart attackif you dont have other plans for the next couple of days. She burst out laughing and hugged him tight. Thats what I like about you. You really are crazy sometimes. Dont scare me like that, though. For a second there, I thought you were serious. I was! he thought with no small amount of shock, but this time kept the words to himself. Good grief, he wanted to marry her! He really was crazy. A woman like Christine Ashton would never marry a guy like him. Although, why the heck not? Theyd both agreed money and status didnt matter. And they were perfect together! +++ You have a tattoo? Hmm? Christine roused herself enough to glance over her shoulder. Alec stood in the doorway to the bedroom, stark naked, holding the glass of water hed offered to get her. His incredulous expression as he stared at her bottom made her laugh. Ah. I see you noticed my little alter ego. Do you like her? Let me have a closer look. He came forward, set the glass on the nightstand, and turned on the lamp. Crawling onto the bed, he straddled her legs. She propped up on both elbows and watched over her shoulder as he tipped his head, examining the sexy devil wearing a red merry widow with wild blond hair swirling around her. She had tiny horns, dragon wings, a long tail, and a very devious grin. Alec nodded. I finally figured out the name thing. Name thing? She frowned. Christine, Chris, and Christi. Christine is Dr. Ashtons daughter, he said in a deep voice. Chris is a real woman I like hanging out with. And this he looked back at the tattoois naughty Christi. Maybe. She grinned. I like her. Do you? Mmm. He planted a smacking kiss on the tattoo before crawling up to lean his back against the headboard. How long have you had her? Since college. Comfortable with her own nudity, she sat up against the headboard as well to drink her water. My friend Amy really wanted a tattoo but didnt have the nerve to do it. Plus, she didnt know where to go, and the whole idea of needles and infection scared her. So I agreed

to take her, provide moral support, and be sure the place was clean. When we got there, I saw a drawing of this devil on the wall and decided on the spur of the moment that I had to have her. Of course you did. She looks just like you. The artist did that. Have you ever regretted it? He bent a leg and draped his arm over the knee, looking sexy and rumpled in the lamplight. Never. She gave him a quick kiss. Thats a pretty permanent decision to make on the spot. Actually, I think some of my best decisions are made on impulse. Same here. He gave her a deep probing look that made her wonder what he was thinking; then he shifted his gaze as he played with her hair. What did your friend get? A butterfly. Right where I got my little devil, so were tattoo twins. She smiled, remembering Amys delight over their mutual brazenness. We tried to talk Maddy and Jane into joining us, but Maddy said shed never be able to make up her mind on what to get, so best to just not go there. Plus, Maddys a fantastic artist. I dont think shed be happy with someone elses artwork on her body. And Jane? Yeah right. Christine snorted. Like Miss Perfect would get a tattoo. Miss Perfect? Alec lifted a brow at her tone. Hmm. That sounded cattier than I meant it. She took a sip of cold water, then set her glass aside. I liked Jane in college, I really did. I just kept wanting her to let her hair down and stop worrying so much about what other people think. Its sad to let the fear of making a single mistake in front of others control all your actions. She seems so confident on TV. Youre saying she isnt like that in real life? Sadly, no. But all the rest of her public persona is true. She honestly cares about people, which makes her a great motivational speaker. Shes just really hard on herself. Makes me wonder about the subtitle of her book, Ten Steps to Outrageous Happiness. Granted, the gist of How to Have a Perfect Life is having the life thats perfect for you. But outrageous happiness? Give me a break. Do you know anyone whos outrageously happy? Well, Im pretty outrageously happy at the moment. He leaned over to give her a quick kiss. How about you? I feel pretty dang good. A smile welled up from inside her as she looked back into his eyes. Glad to hear it. He held her gaze. Feeling almost dizzy, she glanced around the room, really noticing it now that the light was on. He had bookshelves lining the bottom portion of every wall, holding all manner of objects, from clothes and shoes, to duffel bags and backpacks, to medical gear and books. Above the shelves on one wall were hooks holding more clothes. Another wall was covered with colorful bundles of rope and other rock-climbing gear. She frowned at the sight. You have rather, um, interesting decor. He glanced about, apparently not seeing anything out of the ordinary. Its my organizational system. Keep everything out in the open, so I dont lose it. Thats the problem with things like wallets and keys. You cant see them, so you assume theyre in your pocket, until you reach for them and theyre not there. And here I thought you were just really into ropes. Ah, the rock-climbing gear. He glanced at the wall. Ever done any climbing? With my fear of heights? No way!

Here, Ill show you how it works. Now? The word left her mouth as he plucked her from the bed. I guess now. He showed her a variety of gadgets and gizmos, and even got her to step into a harness that went about her thighs and fastened in the front at her crotch, which felt really weird since she was naked. Gee, she said, looking at the rope he was holding. This could get kinky. He looked from the rope to her. His brow lifted. Youre right. Before she saw it coming, he looped and tied the rope about her wrists. The harness fell to the floor with a clunk. Alec! Ha! Ive got you now. She shrieked when he hefted her over his shoulder and tossed her onto the bed. What are you doing! He lifted her arms over her head and secured the rope to the headboard. A strange thrill shot through her when she tugged on the rope and realized hed actually tied it. Alec, this isnt funny. Let me go. What if I said no? Mischief danced in his eyes. She looked at his face, and her heart raced. In spite of his grin, he looked deadly intent on ravishing her. A primal desire blossomed deep inside her at the thought. He placed his fingertip on her chin and drew it slowly down her throat to the center of her chest. I think its my turn to have my way with you. Alec Her breath hitched as her nipples tightened. Need raced through her with shocking speed, making her ache for him to touch her however he wanted. I dont know about this. Oh, I do. I let you have fun earlier. Turnabout is fair play. I didnt have you tied down! She pulled at the rope, but it held firm. Even so, I feel obliged to, um, return a favor. He settled between her legs, moving her thighs apart as he kissed his way down her belly. Her heart beat wildly as she watched his steady progress, his lips brushing the skin just below her navel, followed by the lick of his tongue. His hands slipped beneath her bottom, tipping her hips to give him better access. With her legs held apart by his upper arms, her hands securely tied, she felt completely vulnerable. Shed never given anyone this much trust. The fact that her helplessness excited her also frightened her, which seemed to excite her more. Alec, no, untie me. He looked up at her. His grin slipped a bit as he studied her. If you say noand mean it Ill stop. She stared back at him, barely able to catch her breath, her heart hammering as her body begged for erotic adventure. Its just... Ive never done this. That wasnt no. He flashed a grin before his mouth descended to cover her. Oh God! She arched her back and closed her eyes as he brought her to the point of screaming. When hed pleasured her to delirium, he turned her onto her knees. She opened her mouth to protest, but gasped instead as he entered her with one swift stroke. After that, she lost herself in a barrage of pleasure. When the storm ended, she lay in an exhausted heap, staring at the ceiling. I cant believe you made me scream. Three times. He reached up and untied her hands. He frowned a bit as he rubbed the red marks on her wrists. You okay? I didnt hurt you, did I? If you did, it was worth it, she insisted, still dazed with pleasure. And I was going too crazy to even notice. God! Who knew Id be into getting tied up?

Hmm. He studied her face. Its my theory that a lot of women who like control, also like losing it. She stared back at him. Youve done this before? I never kiss and tell. He smiled slowly. She shook her head. To think when I first met you, I thought you looked like a choir boy. Yeah, the face fools a lot of people. He punched the pillow behind his head into a better shape. That worked really well when I was in school. No, sir, Mr. Truant Officer. That wasnt me you saw skipping school yesterday. I was home sick. He coughed three times. You are so bad. I didnt hear you complaining a minute ago. In fact, what was that you were saying? Oh yes, oh yes, oh God yes! Stop it! She swatted his shoulder, but her laughter took the heat from her words. So do you have any other kinky ideas? Oh, honey, do I ever. Like what? Her interest peaked. Most recently? Doing it on a chairlift. You have got to be kidding me! You know, all that time staring into your eyes while we were going up He traced a fingertip along her jaw. You were thinking about having sex? Yo, Doc, Im a guy. Im always thinking of having sex. But hey, maybe that would help you get over your fear of heights. How about we try it tomorrow? Ditch your family and spend the day with me. Better yet, spend the night with me too. You know I cant do that. Speaking of, what time is it? She twisted to see the clock on his nightstand. Oh man! I need to get home. No, stay. He grabbed her arm as she started to rise. I cant do that. She slipped free. What would my family think? Who cares? Youre an adult. No, really. She searched for her clothes. I have to get home. Oh, all right. He sighed heavily as he sat up. Ill walk you. You dont have to. He scowled at her. Okay, lets get one thing straight. Theres not much good you can say about my family, but when it comes to manners, we Hunters never shirk. I walk you home. I open your doors. I hold your chairs. Got it? She grinned. May I be politically incorrect and say I like that? You may. Once theyd dressed, they braved the cold and hurried through the village. In the lobby of her parents condo, Alec pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Will I see you tomorrow? he asked. That depends. With her arms looped about him, she smiled. What do you have in mind? What are you up for? he asked suggestively. She couldnt help but laugh. A lot of things, apparently. How about this? I need to take the snowmobile and check on one of our cabins in the backcountry. Want to go with me? Snowmobiling?

Without any stupid stunts like Paul and Ted pulled. We can pack some food, build a fire, and play snowbound pioneers. You know, pretend were caught in a blizzard, crawl beneath some blankets, and share body heat. Ooh, wait. She brightened with an idea of her own. Can we play lonely widow who finds a wounded mountainman stranded in the high country instead? Do I get to wake up in your bed with both of us naked because youre warming my body? Absolutely. Youre on. Okay. The elevator opened. Now I have to go. Really. Hang on. With one hand holding the elevator doors open, he moved as if to brush something from her nose. What? She held still, wondering what it was. Rather than a light brush of his finger, he rubbed his whole gloved hand over her face, then studied her. Nope, didnt help. Sputtering, she shook her head, then glared at him. What was that for? He grinned. Just trying to erase the Oh boy, I just had sex look. After a smirk, she gave him a quick kiss. Trust me, Alec, you have no room to talk. Smiling, he stepped back and let the doors close, then stood a while, grinning like a fool. Buy JUST PERFECT now at your favorite ebook store: http://www.julieortolon.com/books/perfect-trilogy/just-perfect/

Reviewers from Publishers Weekly to Romantic Times have praised Julie Ortolons contemporary romance for being sizzling, fast-paced, and filled with genuine heart. Numerous awards for her work include two Booksellers Best Awards. Almost Perfect, book one of her Perfect trilogy was a Rita finalist and was named Best Single Title Contemporary by the readers of Affaire de Coeur magazine. Julies road to success as a romance novelist was a bit bumpier than most authors, however. Her struggle with dyslexia left her functionally illiterate until her mid twenties when she discovered romance novels were worth the effort. To turn her favorite pastime, daydreaming emotionally rich stories, into a career, she taught herself to read, type, and use English as a written language,

not just a spoken one. Her struggles made hitting the USA Today list with her first title even more rewarding. When Julie isnt writing or reading, she enjoys gardening, cooking, and traveling the world. Visit Julies website: http://JulieOrtolon.com Like Julies Facebook page: http://facebook.com/julieortolon Subscribe to Julies e-newsletter: http://www.julieortolon.com/contact/

The Games
Contemporary Romance

By Patricia McLinn In the 16 days of the Winter Olympics, medals can be won, careers can be made... and hearts can be broken. So, whats the one supply that runs out the soonest at most Olympic Games? Condoms. Rikki Lodge, a little known biathlete, is part of an experiment that has her sharing Olympic housing with downhill skiers and figure skaters. In the crucible of the Olympics, their lives and fates intertwine. For Rikki, that includes meeting hockey player Lanny Kaminski, whose intensity she finds... unsettling. A gold-medal winner. Fast-paced, vivid and true-to-life, Patricia McLinns The Games captures the personal drama and compelling stories of the greatest sports event on earth. Christine Brennan, USA Today sports columnist

The Games
After dancing with a Finnish speed skater and talking to a Canadian ski jumper, Rikki found herself near the video games. Lanny Kaminski was nowhere to be seen, not even in the shadowed corner hed occupied earlier, where hed sat alone, maneuvering the video games control with complete concentration. Curious, she sat at the game hed been playing, and dropped in a token. Her second ship was sinkingshed gotten too close to a fjord wallwhen she heard a low voice behind her. Thats pitiful. Sinking already, and you didnt even get out to open sea. Not bothering to turn around, she dropped in another token. So how far did you get, Kaminski? A lot farther than youre getting. Do you even know the object of the game? Loot ancient Britain? Why dont you Its just a game, Kaminski. I dont need a consultant. He lapsed into silence, but he didnt move. She heard his occasional sounds of disapproval at her haphazard play, and she felt his presence behind her. The more he restrained himself, the worse she felt for her churlishness. Shed sunk another ship and another token before she spoke, though. Good game this afternoon, Kaminski. Nice to get that first win. Yeah. He hesitated long enough to make her wonder if that was all. I saw you there. He sounded puzzled and not entirely happy. She shrugged. I thought it might be fun for a change. I dont usually go to hockey games. Was it? Was it what? Fun for a change. Fun? Not quite the right word. Lets say interesting. And a little unsettling. Yeah, it was an interesting game for me, too. Ill bet. Would you have stopped if the referee hadnt made you? Or would you have just gone on adding color to the ice? I dont ever notice when Im bleeding. She nodded as if she understood him totally. Not the noticing sort, huh? I guess not. I dont ever notice people in the stands, either. He said it so flatly it took her a moment. Then she looked up at him. His dark brows were drawn down in a frown and his eyes were intense. But not with the same emotion shed seen in them this afternoon at the hockey rink. The game beeped, waiting for her next move. He leaned over her. If you hold it this way you can get better leverage. Annoyance and amusement warring in her, she turned more to glare over her right shoulder. Ill hold it however I want, Kaminski. I can... The words died under the burning light of intention in his eyes and the weight of realization that his mouth practically touched hers. She was drawing in breath when he kissed her, craving sense-restoring oxygen and instead drawing in his scent and leaving herself slightly light-headed.

It was a brief kiss, a shifting of lips against lips, a fleeting fluke of proximity. And it rocked her. He lifted his head. Still half leaning over her, his one hand rested on her back, the other around her neck. She held on to that wrist, with her other hand caught between her shoulder and his chest. They stared at each other, stunned and wary. Holy shit. She wanted to be amused, but his profane mutter too aptly fit her own reaction. His expelled breath across her dampened lips made her shiver. He saw it, and swooped down to kiss her again. No fluke, nothing fleeting. A smoldering fuse of a kiss that parted her lips and welcomed his tongue to light dynamite deep inside of her. Ka-boom! She slipped her free hand around the back of his neck to explore the texture of his hair softer than she would have expectedand pull him closer. He tightened his hold, drawing her up from the chair. She could feel his hip against her abdomen as he shifted so one of his legs slightly parted hers. Instinctively, she moved against that pressure. Were getting out of here. She heard his words above the ringing in her ears. Felt the tug on her hand and accepted it as he led her directly across the dance floor and out the door. Felt him drawing her parka around her shoulders, guiding her arms into the sleeves, and she accepted that, too. But the slap of cold air against her face brought her back some, and turned down the volume on the ringing. Or maybe his gloved hand on her parka sleeve didnt allow for the skin-to-skin contact that had set off that ringing. Either way, sanity made a comeback. She should welcome that, not regret it. Because this was crazy. Lunatic. She needed a moment to catch her breath. To think. To slow everything down. Lanny... Wait. She tugged back on his hand. He stopped, turning to face her. What? Just wait a minute. Why? That struck her as a reasonable question, which scared the hell out of her. Where are we going? A stupid question. She knew where they were going, at least in general terms. He could have said that in so many words. He could have demonstrated with an embrace she knew she would have returned with full enthusiasm. He just looked at her. This is crazy! Was she appealing to herself or him? Crazy isnt the half of it. He sounded almost grim. I dont do things like this. He gave a bark of laughter that sent a shiver of awareness through her already thrumming body. Me, either, Rikki. Shit, me either. What if its too fast? We need to stop and think about this. No we dont. She shook her head, trying to clear it, not disputing his words. He didnt try to pull her closer. Only their gloved hands connected, their arms stretched to full length.

I have a roommate, he said, but he owes me. Ill call in the favors. Artificial light caught the bones of his face, inking the shadows, making a tough face look even tougher. Hockeys fast, Rikki. If you stop to think, the plays already past you. You have to trust yourself, and go for broke. They stared at each other. But instead of catching her breath she felt it coming harder, felt her heartbeat speeding. She couldnt think; she didnt want to slow. If that was going for broke, she was going. She started past him, tugging his hand again, but to draw him on not to hold him back. My room. I have a single in an apartment. No roommate to kick out. He halted her progress, by the simple expedient of refusing to budge. What? she demanded He didnt answer, instead bundling her backwards into a dark alcove between a building and what she suspected was a dumpster. It didnt matter, because he immediately followed, pressing his body into her. His mouth covered hers, and it was dynamite all over. What are you...? He deserted her mouth, and used his teeth to draw off one glove. His hand tunneled under her parka, under her sweater and up her back, the cold air pouring in as his arm lifted the material. But his hand burned against her skin. He unhooked her bra with one jerk, and his hand found her breast immediately under the loosened material. She pushed her upper body closer to his touch. In response his hand tightened on her breast, and his other hand dropped to her butt to rock her pelvis against his. My God. My God. Her mind couldnt formulate more. But her body wanted more. Wanted the feel of his bare skin under her hands, wanted him inside her. Now. And he knew it. He backed off enough for them to lock eyes. Sure? Rochelle Lodge, who didnt do things like this ever who believed in caution and gradual, met his look. Yes. There were no more words. Not as they walked past drifts of other athletes. Not as she let them into the deserted apartment. Not as he closed her bedroom door behind them, pressed her against it and kissed her. Not as the weight and movement of his body rubbed her loose clothing against her skin in a friction that doubled pleasure and frustration. Not as she started feeding her hunger to touch him by tugging at knit and battling buttons. Not as his intense, concentrated effort stripped away her clothes. Not as he toppled her to the bed, to the coolness of sheets against skin stroked hot by his rough hands. Not as he followed her down. There was a sound from him, not a word, but a rumble of male satisfaction at finding her wet and hot. Ready for him. He wasted no motions in using the condom he pulled from his wallet. On the narrow mattress, he maneuvered her legs to his satisfaction with firm hands, centered himself over her and thrust. She adjusted to him slowly. She looked away, facing the blank white wall, seeking that spurious privacy while she accepted first the pressure, then its transformation into pleasure. He straightened his arms. Rikki, look at me. Only when shed met his demand did he start to move. The sensation allowed no privacy.

She wrapped her legs around his. He slid his hands under her buttocks bringing them into fuller contact with each thrust. As the urgency built in her body, he held that look, never letting her go. Not even when the urgency overtook her, complete and unique. As the echoes of her climax slowed, his thrusts intensified. She matched him then, and felt another kind of pleasure when his head jerked back with a guttural sound and his body shuddered, then dropped onto hers. My God. My God. That first kiss hadnt lied. What expletive would he use to describe this? She wanted to laugh at that speculation, but her skin was rapidly cooling, bringing awareness of his chest pressing against her breasts, her legs hooked over his thighs, his body still inside hers. The urge to move hit so strong she had to tense her muscles against it. She wanted the shelter of the covers with a desperation stronger than any chill. He moved at last, though her relief diluted under the intensely intimate sensation of his pulling out of her body. Without a word he got out of the bed, draping the covers over her in one quick motion. Hed disappeared into the bathroom before she realized she was holding her breath. Even when he came out and dropped beside her on the narrow bed she wasnt sure if shed been holding it in fear that he would leave or stay. With the same decisive, no-nonsense manner hed used in disposing her body to his liking to hers as well, she had to admithe rolled her on her side to face him, slipped an arm under her neck, then hooked a leg over both of hers to draw her close. Ridiculous to feel ill at ease with this man after what theyd just done. To feel she didnt know him well enough to lie like this, naked in bed. Stupid, stupid, stupid, Rikki. This was why she didnt do things like this. She wasnt cut out for the aftermath. No matter how great the sexGod, it had been greatthis roiling in her stomach fed by the acid of What now? drumming in her head proved that. She fit slow-developing relationships, allowing her to see each step coming and prepare herself for it. No rush, so she knew what to expect. From herself andher eyes squeezed shut from the man. Shed know something more than his name and that he played hockey like his life depended on it. Christ! She didnt even know what position he played. She could feel her muscles tensing, from the inside out. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, then ran his lips along her brow bone. An oddly soothing touch. He shifted closer to reach her other brow with a similar caress. The hair on his chest rubbed her nipple, and she retreated. Shit, she hadnt even taken the time before to notice that he had hair on his chest. She tried to shift back, and felt the abyss of the beds edge under her backside. Beds small, she said. Theres not much room. Dont need much. He put his hand on her back and brought her flush against him. He kissed her below her ear, then brushed her hair out of the way and started testing the skin of her neck with his teeth and lips. I, uh, guess you have a roommate, huh? I said that. Before.

Oh. Yeah. Another hockey player? Tonetti. The whole teams in the same area in the Village? Uh-huh. She managed to insert enough room between them to pull the sheet up over her breasts. I guess youve been traveling with them for a while. Uh-huh. So, how do you feel about playing in the Olympics? That got his attention. Youre asking me how I feel about playing in the Olympics? Defiant in the face of his disbelief, she repeated, Yeah, How do you feel about playing in the Olympics? Even in the shadows, his eyes were uncomfortably intense. I feel great about it, he said slowly, watching her. Have you always wanted He cut her off. Let me save you some time here. You want the rundown? Fine. Ive always wanted to play hockey. Ive always dreamed of playing in the Olympics, ever since I was a redblooded American boy whistling Yankee Doodle Dandy a few streets over from Paul Reveres ride. My fathers the manager of a service department for a big Buick dealershipbeen there twenty-nine yearsand my mother works in a department store. Selling perfume right now. I have a younger sister whos married with two kids and a younger brother whos a fireman. Im from Boston and I knew that from the accent. Her only shot in a losing battle. Im on a first-name basis with the nurses for the top two sports rehabilitation experts in the state of Massachusetts. Id been in the minors most of twelve years when I got the call for the Olympics. I got about three courses left on a degree that wouldnt get me a job at McDonalds. Im not married. Not involved. Disease free. No major debts. No assets, major or otherwise. Anything else you want to know? You seem awfully at ease with this situation considering you dont do things like this. She resented the hell out of his ease. I made a decision and I dont regret it. Do you? No! Surprise loosened her hold on the sheet. Maybe shed thought she should, but she didnt regret going to bed with Lanny Kaminski. No. Good. He kissed her in earnest then, slow and deep. Exploring with his tongue, stroking her mouth, setting the first beats of an unmistakable rhythm. His lips touched her brow again, then dropped to her chin on the way to a thorough examination of her collarbone. Lanny? Hmm? After I said we should come here and you pulled me back in that corner? More questions, huh? Yes. She didnt apologize. If he was so intolerant, so unwilling to Okay, what about when I pulled you into that corner? He cupped a palm over her breast as he had in that corner, but now with no clothing to restrict his circling, stroking movements. The friction against her nipple triggered circuits of pleasure throughout her body.

What was that all about? Wanted to give you a chance to reconsider. A little more time to think about it, see? She laughed. The movement pressed her breast into his hand, and he smiled as he stroked her. You didnt give me much chance to think, you know. I know. He was smug. I also wanted to make sure that after you reconsidered you stuck to the first decision. This time when she laughed, he caught the movement of her breast with his mouth, and pulled on her with a persistent gentleness. His hands stroked lower as he shifted against her. Youre the first man Ive ever met who Her breath hitched, but she got the rest of the thought out. indulges in foreplay after sex. He raised his head slowly. Not after. Between. Buy THE GAMES now at your favorite ebook store: http://patriciamclinn.com/games2010/about_the_games.html#order

Frequently praised for compelling and believable characters, Patricia McLinns novels include mysteries, womens fiction, historical and contemporary romance. Her books have resided on best-seller lists and gained national awards judged by readers, booksellers and fellow writers. After accepting that her first two ambitionsbeing a jockey or being the first female football coach at Notre Damewere probably not going to happen, Patricia bowed to practicality and received a Masters from Northwestern Universitys Medill School of Journalism. Since then shes learned many lessons (and interesting vocabulary) in newsrooms in Illinois, North Carolina and Washington, D.C., while serving at various times as a sports writer, columnist, copy editor, copy chief and assignment editor. She left the Washington Post after more than 20 years as an editor there to write full-time. She now lives in Northern Kentucky in a house that grows piles of books and dog hair at an alarming rate.

Visit Patricias website: http://patriciamclinn.com Like Patricias Facebook page: http://facebook/PatriciaMcLinn Subscribe to Patricias e-newsletter: http://www.patriciamclinn.com/newsletter

Taken by the Cowboy


Time-Travel Romance

By Julianne MacLean HERO AND PROTECTOR Former bounty hunter, expert gunslinger, and the toughest sheriff Dodge City has ever known, Truman Wade is a real man from the tip of his black Stetson right down to his spurs and leather boots. Hes never met his match in a gunfight, but hes never met a gorgeous, gutsy woman from the twenty-first century either... TORN BETWEEN TWO WORLDS Newly single after a rocky breakup with her self-absorbed fianc, newspaper columnist Jessica Delaney crashes her car in a lightning storm and soon finds herself dodging bullets in the Wild West. Before the night is out, shes tossed in jail for a murder she didnt commit, and if things dont seem complicated enough, the impossibly handsome sheriff in charge of her arrest has danger written all over himand a sexy swagger to die for. Jessica knows she needs to get home, but when Sheriff Wades enticing touch sets her passions on fire, she begins to wonder if fate has other plans for her, and soon she must choose between the life she longs for in the future... and the greatest love shes ever known. In this excerpt from Chapter Nineteen, Truman and Jessica have just been captured and tossed into a dark cellar by a gang of outlaws who are up to no good...

Taken by the Cowboy


I guess were stuck here until morning, Truman said. Do you have any idea how late it is? It must be after three. Maybe four. We should get some sleep. He unhooked the lamp, carried it to the other side of the cellar, and found an old blanket from behind one of the crates. You can lie down on this. Jessica glanced up at his bruised face. Well share it. How about over there? She pointed toward the far corner where they would be out of sight if anyone came down the stairs. Truman set the lamp down and spread the blanket on the dirt floor. I dont want this to be our last night together, she whispered as she lay down. It wont be. Curling up beside him on the blanket, she hid her face in his shoulder while he stared up at the ceiling, blinking. What if tomorrow...? Truman leaned up on his side and draped one arm across her stomach. Everything will be fine. You always say that, but what if it isnt? What if tonight really is our last night? He touched a finger to her lips. Make love to me, she said. His expression grew strained. Jessica.... Why not? Im in love with you. There, Ive said it. Relief flooded through her, but his reaction crushed it instantly. His eyes turned cold, and his voice was dark and almost threatening. I dont want you to love me. Why? Lying back, his hand slipping from her stomach onto his own, he said, There are things you dont know about me. Things no one knows. She wanted to tell him that it didnt matter. There were things he didnt know about her either, like the fact that she came from another century and still wanted to go home. She felt torn, yes... because of how she felt about him, but this was not her world, and when the time cameif it cameshe would leave him. It would kill her inside, but she would do it. If only she could take him with her, but would he even want that? Would she? How sensible or realistic would it be to bring a lawman from the Wild West into the twenty-first century? How would they ever live? She leaned up on an elbow and looked into his eyes. You can tell me anything, she said, because I have secrets, too. Things you wouldnt believe. He touched her cheek. Ive always known that, since the first moment we met. Abruptly, he sat up, then stood and rested his forehead on a low timber beam. Jessica rose and approached him. Tell me everything. I want to know all your secrets. Then Ill tell you mine. A vein pulsed at his temple. I dont know if I can. The words are like poison on my tongue. He moved into the shadows and sat down on the chair. Jessica picked up the lantern and set it on the dirt floor at his feet. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands locked together in front of him. Why dont you want me to love you? she boldly asked.

He lifted his eyes, and the malice was there again, reflecting in the lamplight. Dorothy loved me, he said, and I wish every day that she hadnt. Are you afraid Ill get sick and die, like she did? He pinched the bridge of his nose. No, its not that. What is it, then? There was a long pause. It was my fault that she died. Jessica knelt down and took his hands in hers. She was sick, Truman. You cant blame yourself. It was no ones fault. He glared at her with dark and brooding hostility. Youre wrong about that. How? The flame in the lantern sputtered and hissed. Because I shot her. +++ A cold wave of shock moved through Jessica as she digested Trumans words. What happened? He sat forward again, rested his elbows on his knees, and looked her in the eye as he spoke. She was sickthat much is trueand we couldnt run the farm. We needed money, so I set out to collect what I thought would be an easy reward. There was an outlaw they called Big Dog. He knew I was looking for him, and by that time, folks knew my aim was good, and I didnt miss my mark often. I reckon he wanted to get to me before I could get to him, so he came to the house. Jessica swallowed over the sickening lump of dread that rose up in her throat. When Big Dog walked in my front door, he continued, I drew my weapon. Big Dog shot me in the shoulder, and I shot him at the same time. He dropped his gun but stayed on his feet, while I fell back onto the floor. He was wobbling, and I figured hed go down any time. So I lay there with my six-shooter aimed at his head, not even knowing if I had any bullets left. Sitting back in the chair, Truman kept his eyes trained on Jessicas. Thats when Dorothy came out of the bedroom with my shotgun. I didnt see her. She was so quiet on her bare feet. Big Dog saw her though. He made a move for his gun, so I fired. Dorothy stepped between us right then and took my bullet in her back. His quiet voice shook. She thought Big Dog shot her, and I never told her the difference. She died right there in my arms. The last thing she said was, I saved you. Jessica got down on her knees in front of him. Im so sorry, Truman. I buried her on the hill, he continued, and everyone in town thought... He looked down. I told them Big Dog shot her. Then I took the reward money, sold the ranch, and left town for good. It was an accident. But I should have told people. I should have told her folks. They were good people, and I lied to them. Youd been through hell, dealing with the worst kind of guilt. You were in no state to think clearly. She ran her fingers down his arm, searching for the right words. I killed my wife, he said, shaking his head. Ill never forgive myself for it, and I dont want to lose you like I lost her. You will forgive yourself, she said. Ill make sure of it. And you wont lose me. A chill shivered up her spine. Could she really promise him that? Suddenly, in a rush of movement, he stood up, pulled her to her feet, and smothered her next words with a deep, open-mouthed kiss that left her burning with love and desire.

She knew she had to tell him the truth about where she came from, but he needed her now. He needed this, so she would confess her secrets later. Besides, morning would be here soon, and theyd done enough talking.... His lips seared a path down her neck, and she threw her head back, opening herself to him completely. I need to make love to you, he growled in her ear, and just the sound of his voice fired a tremor of relentless passion into her blood. Jessica slid her hand down his firm thigh and wondered how he had endured the past two years without intimacy, hiding his secret from the world. Yes.... In a reckless flurry of movement, she unfastened his trousers and slid her hand inside. He responded with a groan of pleasure, while she touched her lips to the fine curve of his collarbone, tasting the delicious salty flavor of his skin. Nipping gently, her lips followed her trembling fingers as she undid the buttons of his shirt and kissed his chest. He pulled his shirt off over his head, and her lips found the firm, smooth corded surface of muscle at his stomach. Next, with clumsy fingers, she unbuckled his empty gun belt and dropped it onto the ground beside them. Come to the blanket, he said, taking her hand and leading her into the shadows. Well be more comfortable there. She followed him away from the lamplight into the darkness where he had laid their bed. Barely able to see him, she reached out to touch him instead, her impassioned senses shifting away from sight and becoming alert to smells, sounds, and textures. Locked together, they sank onto the blanket. Truman uttered a husky murmur and lowered himself on top of her. She wrapped her legs around him, unable to get close enough, wanting, craving everything she knew he was going to do with her. His lips blindly sought the sensitive flesh at her neck. Warm kisses journeyed to her shoulder as he slid a hand inside her shirt. He released each button and slid the shirt off her, covering her with his hot, sensuous weight. You feel good, he whispered, reaching down to unfasten her jeans. She wiggled out of them. He removed his, and as soon as he was naked beside her, she rolled onto him. Lie back. She pressed her palm to his chest and guided him down. Relax. Thats not possible. His tone was low and laden with desire. His fingers found her breasts and inflamed her swirling senses as she eased herself down onto him, melting around him. Slowly she moved with controlled effort. The hard swell of him filled her with soaring pleasure. God, he moaned, his hands trailing down her flat stomach and around her hips to guide her in the directions that pleased him. Jessica tipped her head back, swaying to his rhythm. She went where he moved her, learning what he liked and what worked for her. Then she needed more, so she thrust faster, impatiently, until she was drained of strength, her body depleted of its power to thrust any harder. Truman sat up and rolled them over onto the woolen blanket. I wish we could do this forever, she heard herself say in a cloud of pleasure, aware that she was denying the dangerous reality that faced them. We will, he replied.

Within moments, his hips were grinding against hers, deeper each time as she arched her back. His name spilled from her lips, begging, pleading for moremore of his blinding, plunging desire. Then, just as she began to believe there was no ecstasy more perfect than this, her body gave way, and she bit her lip to suppress the urge to cry out his name. All the sensual pleasures of life came to her at once, until she was spent, collapsing upon him, her arms falling open to the ground. +++ Nestled beside Jessica, who slept contentedly on his shoulder, Truman wondered how he could ever live his life from this day forward without her. He simply couldnt. He was devoted now, for the rest of his days. Thats the kind of man he was. When he loved, he loved forever. It wasnt something he took lightly. He loved from the deepest reaches of his soul. Not even death would keep him from her now. Brushing the tip of his thumb over the soft, creamy skin at her neck, he recalled the sounds she had made when shed shuddered beneath him. The bliss of that moment had consumed him so completely, he had imagined their predicament was all a bad dream. Lying here now, however, he knew that to be a sad hallucination.... Buy TAKEN BY THE COWBOY now at your favorite ebook store: http://www.juliannemaclean.com/index.php?page=2&book=27

Julianne MacLean is a USA Today bestselling author of more than 15 historical romance novels, including her popular American Heiress series published by Avon/Harper Collins and her recent Highlander Trilogy published by St. Martins Press. She is a three-time RITA finalist with Romance Writers of America, a two-time winner of the Booksellers Best Award, and winner of a Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award for her novel LOVE ACCORDING TO LILY. Her books have been translated into many languages, and she is currently working on a new Regency historical trilogy with St. Martins Press. Visit Juliannes website: http://www.juliannemaclean.com

Like Juliannes Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/JulianneMacLeanRomanceAuthor Subscribe to Juliannes e-newsletter: http://www.juliannemaclean.com/index.php?page=49

Lips That Touch Mine


Grayson Brothers Series Historical Romance

By Wendy Lindstrom Prepare to fall in love with The Grayson Brothers in Lips That Touch Mine, the third novel in a four-book historical romance series by award-winning author Wendy Lindstrom. Playboy saloon owner Boyd Grayson is intrigued by Claire Ashier, and considers her temperance crusade to shut down his noisy tavern nothing more than a lark. While matching wits with the beautiful, aloof widow, his game of seduction uncovers her torturous secrets. He never expects that the love of one abused woman will affect him so deeply or force him to face his own painful wounds. A perfect ten... one story that should not be missed! Romance Reviews Today

Lips That Touch Mine


Boyd leaned against the bar and studied the precise angles and valleys his father had carved in the ornate back-bar, the centerpiece of Boyds tavern. It was a masters work. The mark of a great mans passion. Boyd wanted passion... for his art... in his empty life.

As he traced his fingers over the furrowed wood, examining the mirrored shelf, the last project he and his father had worked on together, a shadow shifted across the glass. Claires reflection looked back at him, but he didnt turn around. She wouldnt be there. Her image was a frequent visitor in his mind. To see her face, or her fleeting smile, was nothing new. His need for her was consuming him, but there was no crossing the boundaries she had set. You said I had no sense of adventure. Claires voice startled him and he spun to face her, shocked she was really standing in his bar. No woman, especially Claire who was so against everything his establishment stood for, would be caught dead in a tavern at night alone with a man. His dog Sailor leapt to his feet with an excited bark and ran to Claire. She scratched Sailors head, but looked at Boyd. Maybe youre right, she said, softly. I need to understand. About you. About this. Her gesture encompassed the saloon. Show me what this is all about. He was far from drunk, and yet her presence and her request baffled him. She picked up the bottle of whiskey, further surprising him. Show me what the attraction is to drinking alcohol and to spending time in a saloon. She held the bottle out to him. I assume you drink this from a glass? He took the whiskey from her, mildly horrified at the thought of a woman like Claire enjoying hard liquor. Why the sudden interest? Maybe I havent considered both sides of this issue fairly. Sincerity filled her voice. I want to understand who you are. I want to understand why you and other men choose this life. How could he explain when he didnt know the answer himself? He put the whiskey bottle back on the shelf, then shooed Sailor away from the bar. The dog flopped down on his bed beneath the billiard table. You shouldnt have left the house alone. Ill take you home. She pressed her hands to his chest to stop him from stepping around her. Im not leaving until I experience a night in a saloon. Dont be ridiculous. Her chin shot up and she glared at him. Dont insult me. Ive made my position on intemperance specific and clear, but youve never shown me one reason to support your view. Show me now. She retrieved the whiskey bottle and held it out to him. Convince me to stop marching for temperance. Her eyes sparkled with challenge. Hed rather kiss her than drink whiskey, but she was so sincere in her quest that he couldnt turn her away. He exchanged the whiskey for a jug of wine. What do you want to know? he asked, filling two glasses. What do you do here? What do you talk about? What attracts men to alcohol? Why do you like being here? He handed her a glass. This could take a while. Ive got all night. To his shock, she lifted her glass and drained it. Her face pruned, her eyes squinted, and her body quivered in reaction. He burst into laughter. You were supposed to sip that. She palmed her stomach and leaned against the bar. I wish I would have. He laughed again and gestured for her to follow him. Come on. He took the bottle of wine, rounded the bar, and nodded for her to sit beside him. Relax. Thats what most men come here to do.

She took off her coat and laid it over the bar, then perched her perfectly rounded bottom on the edge of a barstool. They can do that in their parlors with their families, she said. He filled their glasses then braced his elbow on the bar. When a man sits in his parlor he thinks of all the unfinished chores he should be doing, or the attention he should be giving his wife and children, or the neighbor he should be helping. When he sits in a saloon he doesnt have his family or his fields to remind him of his duties and obligations. Thats exactly why Im fighting to close these places. She lowered her half empty glass to the bar. His family needs him at home, or in the fields, or any place that supports them. Your saloon merely tempts him away from his commitments. Thats not true. It is. She finished her drink then reached for the wine bottle. He grabbed the neck and stopped her. If you dont want to get sick, I would suggest you pass. Im perfectly capable of drinking wine with you. I agree, but not at my pace, and definitely not double my pace. I didnt come here for a lecture. Im here to learn about this life. I intend to experience all the sin and vice your saloon has to offer. Darling, you couldnt sustain the shock. Something dark flickered in her eyes. You have no idea what I can endure. It dawned on him that he wasnt talking to a virgin, but rather an experienced widow, who understood the layers of their conversation. She was daring him to treat her as his equal, to test her intelligence and grit. Are you certain you can handle the education, Claire? Quite. She tugged on the bottle. Go ahead and indulge all your bad habits. You can pretend Im a man out for the evening. The wine had gone straight to her head. It must have. Even during his worst drunk, he wouldnt mistake her for a man. But she was interesting with her guard down and her dander up. The scruples and secrets she used as a shield had been washed away by her first glass of wine. It would be interesting to see what another few ounces would wash away. He took the bottle from her then filled her glass. Sip that one, he instructed, then placed the wine out of her reach. She teetered on her chair, and he frowned. Sit back and put your feet on that rail. He pointed to a brass rail attached to the bar eight inches off the floor. She slid back on the stool and propped her feet on the rail. Thats a definite improvement. Now if the rail were heated, I could be quite content to sit here and warm my feet for a spell. Only a woman would think of something like that. He patted his thigh. Lean back and put your feet up here. She glanced at him. Now youre being ridiculous. Im only offering to warm your feet. Theres no one here to tell you its improper. Now put them up here, unless youve changed your mind about sin and vice and want me to take you home. She hesitated, then lifted her chin and swung her knees toward him. Im staying. He slid his chair back to allow her to stretch out her legs. She put her feet in his lap, but eyed him warily while he unlaced her boots and pulled them off. He dropped her boots on the floor then slipped his palms over her cold feet.

Ummmm... thats nice. Her eyes widened. I mean, the wine is nice. He grinned. Of course. I was trying to make a point. Her brow furrowed as if she were searching for the thread of their conversation. He bit his lip to avoid laughing. We were talking about why the men come to my saloon. Right. She sloshed the burgundy wine in her glass. So why do they? For camaraderie. Oh... Her shivery moan sent blood singing through his veins. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to start nibbling at her slender ankles and kiss all the way up her sleek, long legs until he reached the apex of her thighs. And then... Those men can find companionship at home with their wives, she said, her chin lifted in challenge. What? Those men should give their wives more credit. Oh. Right. Now he was fighting to keep his mind on subject. My saloon isnt meant to draw men away from their families or responsibilities, Claire. They come here to seek information to help with their crops and businesses. Do you expect me to believe that? Yes, but I guess Ill have to work harder to convince you to stop trying to close my saloon. He gave her toes a light squeeze. He had to get his hands off her before he slid them up her legs and gave her all the sin and vice she could handle. Lets see if you have the daring to learn how to play billiards. She toasted him with her glass then took a healthy swallow. This is really quite lovely. She slid off the barstool in a rather loose-jointed manner then swung her glass toward the billiard table. Lead on. Would you like some help with your boots? She pressed her palm to the front of her skirt. Her toes peeped out from beneath the blueberry-colored velvet panel. I think Ill leave them off. This seems like the perfect opportunity to let my hair down. A grin climbed his cheek. Claire, darling, Im really beginning to like you. She returned his smile, hers warm and open. Our friendship is rather... unexpected, isnt it? They were more than friends, but it was enough to hear her say so. She finished her wine then licked her lips and grinned up at him. After that first swallow it goes down easy. Should I get the bottle? Absolutely not. He handed her a billiard stick. You wont be able to play if you drink too much. I feel fine. In fact, better than ever. She spread her arms and winced. Well, almost fine. He nodded toward her injured shoulder, furious with the man who threw the brick through her window. Being on opposite sides of a matter was no cause for threats and violence. Is it causing you much pain? Surprisingly, no. The abrasion is sore and ugly, but the doctor says it should heal quickly. She set her glass on the edge of the table and pointed her stick at a corner pocket. Do we just whack the balls into those holes? He moved her glass to a shelf that ran the length of the west wall then explained the basics of the game and how to direct the balls.

Can I hit one? Of course. Take several shots until you get the feel of it. On her first shot, her stick lifted out of her fingers. Hold it like this. He took the stick and demonstrated for her, then handed it back to her. She adjusted her grip, but her aim was bad. Stay there. He placed his hand on her back to keep her bent over the table. Two thoughts raced through his mind as he stared at her rounded behind, but he chose the safer course of action and put his arms around her shoulders. Im going to show you how to eye this up. To his surprise, she didnt tense up or pull away. Keep the stick loose in your grip, he said, turning back to his lesson with an eagerness that shamed him. Like this? She sawed the stick between her slender fingers, driving him mad, making him cap his hand over hers. Her hands felt cool, but her hip burned hot against his thigh. He gulped a breath and focused on the table. Imagine a straight line from that corner pocket through the center of that green ball. He touched the tip of her stick to the ball. You want the cue ball to hit this ball right here. All right. She drew the stick back with a quick jerk, but he stopped her hand. The motion should be smooth most of the time. He moved the stick across her fingers in a slow arc, cursing his train of thought that circled his roguish mind on one damned track. Her beautiful body. In his bed. Easy, he said, speaking to both himself and Claire. Like this. She turned her head, putting her face within inches of his. Like a bow across violin stings. The wine brought a pink flush to her cheeks and made her eyes sparkle. Ive never thought about it that way, he said, battling the urge to kiss her. But it has merit. Its like an art. She was art. Graceful, glowing, beautiful. He wanted to smooth his palms over the peaks and valleys of her body, learn her shape, feel the grain of muscle and tendon along her bones, the texture of her skin. He wanted to tighten his arms around her and taste her skin where her neck and shoulder met, let her scent fill his nostrils like a fresh-cut pine filled his sawmill. Can I try it now? she asked. He forced himself to step back. Line it up before you shoot. She squinted at the ball, drew her stick back then pushed it forward with an admirably smooth stroke. The ball dropped in the corner pocket. I did it. Her eyes were filled with such surprised delight, he laughed. Her slight imbalance made it obvious she was feeling the wine, but she was trying to hide it by bracing her hip against the table. Im ready. He was ready too, but not for a game of billiards. To distract himself, he walked to the bar, retrieved the jug of wine then filled their glasses. Highest score wins, so aim for the highest numbered balls. She raised her glass in a mock salute. What are we wagering? Hed like to wager her into his bed, but doubted she would appreciate his suggestion. He scoured his mind for something that wouldnt chase her across the street to her sad boardinghouse. Nothing but undressing her came to mind. I cant think of anything. She set her glass on the shelf. If I lose, Ill bake a pie for you. If you lose, you have to show me some of your carvings. He chalked his stick and moved to the table. Thats an awfully tame wager for a lady who wants to indulge in all the sin and vice my saloon has to offer.

As hed expected, her chin lifted, but the move unbalanced her. She gripped the edge of the table and stared up at him. Name a fitting wager then. A kiss. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Or something less threatening if you dont have the nerve, he teased. Her gaze snapped back to his. All right. But it must be a totally improper kiss. Oh, she was amusing. How improper? Sinful. The kind of kiss you would give a woman while... in private. The stick slipped through his hand and hit the floor. Or something less threatening if you dont have the nerve, she said, the challenge so thick in her voice it made him grin. She reached for her glass, but he caught her hand. She wasnt slurring her words, but shed lost the crispness of her speech. He didnt want her to be too drunk to remember the kiss. Because he was damned sure going to get one. Save that for after the game. He turned her toward the table then scooped his stick off the floor. He bent over the table, but stopped in surprise when he realized his hands were shaking. The sight stunned him. Only three events in his life had made him tremble. Carrying his fathers coffin had been one of them. Pulling his brother Kyle from a burning building was another. The third was the battle he waged each time he tried carving. Never had he trembled with need for a woman. But his body quaked and he ached to touch Claire, to kiss her and convince her to go upstairs with him. To his bed. To make love. Whats wrong? she asked. He stepped away from the table and blew out a breath. This was ridiculous. It was... unnerving. He forced himself to calm down, to focus on the game, to stop acting like a schoolboy. But his hands still shook, and he did a bad job of breaking the billiard balls. My turn? she asked, her look so innocent and trusting, he felt the urge to warn her to run, to get the hell away from him before he devoured her. She missed her shot, but didnt pout or ask for another chance. In fact, she insisted that they play by the rules. Its grown rather warm in here, dont you think? She pressed her palms to her flushed face. He had a damned inferno roaring inside him, but her comment surprised him. He had let the fire die down, and worried it may be getting too cool for her. I can open a window. I cant risk being seen. He grinned. I suppose this would be difficult to explain to your temperance friends. Can you imagine their faces if they saw me drinking wine and playing billiards? She snorted and clapped a hand over her mouth, her gorgeous blue eyes sparkling with laughter. Id pay a small fortune to see that. Laughter bubbled out between her fingers. She lowered her hand, revealing a wide white smile. It was the first time hed noticed that one front tooth was slightly ahead of the other. It was barely noticeable, but something about the slight imperfection warmed him and made him want to hug her.

Wouldnt it be gay to do something naughty like that, then wind back time so nobody would know what youve done? she asked. The implications of what she was suggesting astonished him. He planted the stick on the floor, waiting to hear what she might say next. What naughty thing would you do if you wouldnt be found out? She lowered her lashes. I cant tell you. Why not? Youre trusting me not to tell anyone about your visit tonight. True. Well, then, you can trust me to keep your secret. She seemed to consider for a moment, then gave him an impish smile. Id go swimming without any clothes on. He gasped in mock horror and stumbled against the billiard table. She burst into laughter, deepening the flush in her cheeks, but she took his teasing in good humor. What would you do? He lifted his hand to stroke her warm, beautiful face. Id make love to you. Her breath whooshed out and her eyes widened. I shocked you, he said, but he had shocked himself. As much as he wanted her, she was not the sort of woman to have an affair. She gripped the table and looked up at him, her blue eyes wide. He liked that she was so aware of him, that she felt his desire for her. I should be used to your teasing, she whispered. Youre no innocent, Claire. He stroked his thumb across her jaw, enjoying the flare of passion in her eyes. You know I wasnt teasing. He enjoyed the blush that flooded her cheeks. Shall we finish our game? At her nervous nod, he stooped down to eye up his shot. A tiny pearl button dropped onto the felt table top in front of him. He glanced up and stopped breathing. Claire was unbuttoning the bodice of her dress. +++ Claire tugged at the neckline of her dress. Sakes alive! She was burning up. She released several buttons then fanned her bare neck and chest. She had to cool down, sober up, regain her common sense. Her body had turned traitor, craving and yearning and leading her astray. Boyd was purposely testing her, as he had from the moment they met. She knew that, and had even grown to like matching her will against his, but tonight, he was too tempting. Looking at him made her want to throw propriety out the window. He was bent over the table, bracing himself on one hand, the billiard stick forgotten in the other hand as he stared at her. What are you doing? he asked, his voice oddly strained. Glancing down, she realized her bodice was gaping open. She was revealing herself to him as boldly as a tavern wench. Shed been desperate for air, but suddenly, she understood she needed more than air in her lungs. She needed freedom. Living with her abusive husband had suffocated her. Her fear had smothered her. But now that Jack was dead, she needed to breathe, to sing and dance and laugh. She needed to live. She hadnt meant to tempt Boyd, had only meant to cool her flushed face, but she wasnt imagining the hunger in his eyes.

Something wild whispered through her, daring her to shed the harness of propriety, to embrace her freedom, and this gorgeous man, for one glorious evening. No one will know. Her pulse throbbed beneath her fingers, reminding her she was alive, that risk was part of living, that tonight might be her only chance at passion. To bolster her courage, she picked up her glass of wine. He lowered his billiard stick. Are we changing games? he asked, his voice low and unsteady. Yes. She had changed the game. And she liked it. She liked the idea of seducing him. Especially in his own saloon. The idea was so wildly out of character for her, and so wonderfully ironic, she giggled. Youd better not drink the rest of that. He reached for her wine glass, but she stepped away from him. The movement felt odd, like she was no longer solid, but rather a wave of water rolling across the floor. She gratefully sank onto the piano bench. Are you afraid of me, Boyd? Im afraid for you. His genuine look of concern touched her. Underneath his flippant and charming manner, he was a sincere, and even honorable, man. She set her wine glass on top of the piano. I want to play a song for you. He braced his elbow beside her glass. I thought we were playing billiards. She waved a hand. Well get back to that. Her vision blurred as she looked down. She blinked and squinted at the black and white keys. How about a temperance song? No thanks. The disdain in his voice made her laugh. I was joking. Im going to make up a song for you. Thankfully, her fingers functioned better than her brain, and she managed to play a verse of Cold Claire, the very song hed made up to taunt her. He grinned. I know that song. Not my version. She smiled up at him while naughty wordsnew words, wild words flitted through her mind. I can hardly wait to hear this. He gestured for her to begin. Show me how much nerve you have. She lifted her chin and stroked the keys with authority. The sound reverberated through the room as she began to sing. I know a man whos impudent and bold. He claims hes a prince, but I suspect hes a toad. Charming, he drawled, his voice rich with irony as a grin broke across his face. She laughed and missed her next verse. Oops. She lifted her fingers from the keys and started over. He is handsome and charming and a little too bold,

but theres something I like about that naughty toad. His face scrunched as if hed bitten into a lemon. Your lyrics are awful. She burst into laughter and her hands slipped off the keys. I know, but I enjoyed making them up. Play a song with me. He sat and began to play Moonlight Sonata. Oh, how lovely. My mother used to play this song. Her heart sang with memories of being ten years old and dancing with her father in their parlor. She lay her palm on the piano, feeling the vibrations radiate up her arm. The music moved through her, and she ached to be held, to be touched, to be loved. This is so beautiful, she whispered. So are you, Claire. Her breath hitched, and he stopped playing. Dance with me. He pulled her to her feet and slipped his arms around her waist. Hum your favorite song, and Ill do my best to keep time. She smiled and started humming a verse of Cold Claire. He laughed and tightened his arms around her. You should drink more often. I do feel rather friendly tonight. Is that bad? I dont know. She lowered her head to his shoulder, hanging onto him as their bodies swayed in the silence. This doesnt feel bad. It isnt bad. His strong fingers played down the muscles of her back as if he were stroking piano keys, sending delicious shivers down her spine. She remembered this rush of excitement in her blood. She remembered love. Fitting herself against him, she burrowed her nose into the crook of his neck. He smelled of soap and bay rum cologne and warm skin. You smell so good Im tempted to bite your neck. He gazed down at her. Youre a silly but amazing lady. She was. In his arms, she was everything he claimed her to be. They were amazing together. She felt the unmistakable plunge of her hair falling down her back, and knew hed somehow pulled her chignon free. His lips tugged up at one corner, like he was too pleased with himself for words. You said you were going to let your hair down. She had let her hair down, hadnt she? Shed swallowed three glasses of wine, shed her boots, unbuttoned her gown, and played a bawdy song on his piano. If that didnt constitute letting her hair down, what did? Its just us, Claire. You can relax with me. That could be dangerous, she said softly. Couldnt he tell? She knew exactly how dangerous it was to relax with a man. But she wasnt afraid. She liked being touched by Boyd Grayson, charmer, rake, reprobate. She loved being caressed and held tight, deliciously tight, against his tall, hard body. A small, rational, corner of her brain cried out to be careful. He was a man, a strong man, a fierce man when angered, a man who had loved many women. She had loved one man, a strong, violent man, who had tried to break her body and had broken her heart. Lord, her mind was reeling. She was at the edge again, the very edge of loving a new man she did not fully know.

Would he change without warning? Would he hurt her? Would he hit her? Would he mock her, punish her, desert her? Would he make her wish she was dead? That he too was dead? Shed almost wished for death, hers and Jacks, at one point, but shed survived. She was alive. And falling in love again. Oh, how her head spun. Boyd was a man of experience. Shed shared her bed with Jack, and no one else, not ever. Early on, shed enjoyed it, but then her bed had become one more cage she couldnt escape. The tremor passing through her wasnt fear though. It was desire, sharp and intense. It was passion, hot and wild and demanding. And what was wrong with desire? She couldnt get pregnant. Why shouldnt she experience desire and passion? Why couldnt Boyd be her lover? He was perfect for the position. He desired her, but didnt want the bonds of marriage. He wouldnt hurt her. He wouldnt cage her. He would be content with passion. He would keep their secret. She could have one night of passion without selling her soul. Excitement shook her as he pulled her closer to him. Are you cold? he asked, his voice low and husky. No. She was hot with need, her need, his need. Heat radiated from his body and burned through to hers. She lifted her hand and touched her fingers to his mouth. He inhaled sharply and his eyes darkened. She looked into those dark eyes and saw her freedom. He lowered his head and kissed her, eyes open, letting her see his need, the way she was shaking his control. Not an ounce of resistance resided in her as he pulled her against him. She felt weightless and giddy, reckless and wild, and oh, God, wonderfully free. Nothing could possibly compare to the feeling of his arms around her, the heat and hardness of his body against hers, the slow, probing of his tongue in her mouth. It was shocking. It was sinful. And so unbelievably fulfilling. The loneliness and pain and isolation that had cloaked her life fell away. Her thoughts and anxieties turned to vapor and vanished on her breath. What a blessing to be free of that voice in her head, to simply feel. Warmth surged through her as she fit her hips more tightly to his groin. A raspy groan rumbled his chest, thrilling her, encouraging her. No one would know. And she would never tell. In the pleasant haze, he broke away. She kissed his neck and licked his earlobe. His breath rushed out, and he buried his face in her hair. No one would know. She wanted to be free of her dress, free of everything that kept her from being skin to skin with him, but he gripped her arms and set her away from him. Im taking you home, he said, but his voice was hoarse, and his body did not make a move in the direction of her boardinghouse.

We havent finished our billiard game, she said, not caring a whit about the game. This new game was much more exciting. Well finish it in the morning, he said firmly, but his unsteady voice gave him away. Shed turned the tables on him, and now he was fighting the temptation she was dangling in his face. Its my shot. Are you afraid Ill win? He sighed against her ear, his breath spiraling hot sensations all the way down between her legs. Perversely, he leaned back and gestured to the table. Go ahead. She sauntered over, swaying her hips the provocative way Jacks lady friends used to do. The enhanced motion tested her balance, but she kept her head high and steadied herself by bracing her hand on the table edge. She picked up her stick, and eyed up her shot. Claire? She glanced up. He stood beside the table, feet spread, arms akimbo, wearing a grin only a lady of the night could understand. Was she his latest lady of the night? She wanted to be, heaven forgive her. He nodded toward the ball she was aiming at. She blinked, trying to focus on the bright red ball against the dark green felt. You need to shoot the ball with the higher number to have enough points to win. He pointed to the black ball near the corner pocket. You need to sink that one. Oh. She flushed at her mistake. I knew that. I was just... I was making sure I wouldnt touch your ball. He barked a laugh then bit his lip. Suddenly, she realized how he might have taken her comment, and she bit her own lip to keep from smiling. She was past all blushing now. She was committed to her night of sin, to opening the door of the claustrophobic cage shed been hiding in. He leaned down and braced his hands on the edge of the table. They were tan and manly beneath his white shirt cuffs, and she imagined how good it would feel to have his hands roam her body, massage her breasts, cup her hips and... heaven help her, touch her lower. Her breath gasped out as if hed stroked the cradle of her thighs. She couldnt play this game with him a minute longer! And how could he? Was he feeling this same glorious rush of longing that was pounding through her body? Youd better sink that ball, Claire. If you dont, youre going to owe me a kiss, because I wont miss my shot. She was willing to owe him a lot more than a kiss, but how could she if he wouldnt ask? Ill move away if Im distracting you. She didnt want him to move away. She wanted him to pull her into his arms and kiss her until morning. Her stomach fluttered as she angled her tortured body over the table. Its not necessary. A child could make this shot. The ball was lined up for a direct shot into the corner pocket. She drew the stick back, feeling the wood slide between her fingers, imagining Boyd sliding between her legs.

She squinted, but her head felt light. Was it the wine? Was that why she was pulsing with desire for the man leaning against the table? Or was she finally being honest with herself for the first time in her life? Could she risk a bit of safety for a taste of passion? Yes. She wanted a lover. She wanted Boyd to be her lover. She laid the stick on the table without taking her shot. I need to check my shoulder. May I use your water closet? Concern filled his eyes. Would you rather I took you home? Id like to finish our game, she said, hoping she was convincing. If she had her way, they wouldnt finish the billiard game tonight. He clasped her elbow and turned her toward a staircase that led to the second floor. Well need to go upstairs. Shed assumed that. In fact, shed planned on it. Upstairs, he closed his apartment door behind them. He struck a match, and the little blaze lit up his handsome face, giving him a golden princely glow, marking all the angles she coveted to touch, she would touch. Slowly the room around them filled with light. Clean and spare, the kitchen was welcoming with its buff colored walls and walnut wainscoting that matched the sideboard and cupboards. A small four-plate stove sat in the corner, and a tea table with two Windsor bow-back armchairs were centered in front of a tall window. This was his home. The place where he took off his mask. Being in his private space was like being inside his skin, and her stomach fluttered with excitement. Would she finally see the intimate, secret side of him tonight? He guided her into the parlor. Sturdy hickory armchairs and a camel-back sofa upholstered in a green damask fabric beckoned her to recline there with him. Woozy, she shifted her gaze to the dark mahogany mantle above the fireplace, and tried to remember how many glasses of wine shed had. In silence, he placed the lantern on a low table then lit another lantern. The water closet is in there. He nodded toward a door off the parlor. Take one of the lanterns with you. Intentionally, she fumbled with the tiny buttons that closed the bodice of her velvet dress. My fingers wont cooperate. Would you help me remove my shirtwaist? Wariness stole into his eyes, but he moved to stand in front of her. She lowered her arms to her side, giving him access to the tiny pearl buttons, to herself. His artists hands were nimble, but too efficient, as if he didnt trust himself to be near her. After hed opened the buttons along her bodice and wrists, she turned her back to him, pretending a modesty she didnt feel. He peeled the fabric over her shoulders then cupped his palms over her bare, upper arms. Gooseflesh speckled her skin as he drew his warm hands down her arms, pushing the soft material to her wrists. His warm breath caressed her neck. She longed to lean back into his arms, but he tugged the sleeves over her hands, and stepped away. He draped her shirtwaist over the arm of the sofa. Theres a mirror above the basin, he said, his voice low and gritty. Until now, she had considered honor a virtue, but the vein of integrity keeping him from making love to her was becoming an obstacle to her plan of seducing him.

How could he act so deliberate and controlled? Was he so used to undressing women that it didnt arouse his ardor? She panicked, almost afraid to think what she was thinking. She ducked into the spacious, and surprisingly clean, water closet. The instant she closed the door, she set the lantern on the cabinet, and pressed her hand to her pounding heart. He couldnt be rejecting her. He had just told her he wanted her. Hed said he wanted to make love to her. And hed flirted with her shamelessly almost from the moment they had met. Was he waiting for a sign from her? Shed asked him to unbutton her dress. What more of an invitation did he need? The mirror flashed her conflicted expression back at her. She leaned toward the glass and peeked at the one-inch gash marking the crest of her shoulder. The slash of dark red blemished her skin, but it wasnt bleeding, thank goodness. What if he changed his mind? She was as committed and as ready as she would ever be. She couldnt lose this opportunity. Somehow, she must force him to make love to her, to forget everything but her for this one night. She turned away and unbuttoned the waist of her skirt and petticoats. They fell to the floor in a puddle of lace and velvet. She stepped free of the yards of fabric, then bent down to remove her stockings. The room tilted. She braced her hand on the basin stand to steady herself. Was she drunk? Was that why she was peeling off her clothes in Boyds water closet? Suddenly, her actions seemed illogical, reckless, irresponsible, absurd. What was she thinking? She was a lonely widow whod had too much wine. She would regret this tomorrow. She... oh, Lord, that wasnt true. She must do this. She must! If she turned coward now, she would never forgive herself for passing up her one chance for a grand passion. She would never be free if she didnt exorcize Jack from her memory and embrace a new man, a new life, her own life. It had to be tonight. She rolled down her stockings, stripped them off her feet, and dropped them on the floor in a wrinkled heap. Years of depending on herself allowed her to struggle out of her corset. It fell to the floor with the rest of her garments, and she took her first full breath since dressing that morning. Shivering, she stood in her chemise and lace drawers, suddenly afraid of how Boyd would see her, how he would react to her outrageous behavior. Would he find her too wanton? Of course he would. How could he not? But would he reject her for her wantonness? She was dressed in her unmentionables, and bent on seducing him. What else could her behavior be called but wanton? Daring. Stupid. Adventurous. A gamble. Back and forth her mind rushed, questioning and weighing the rewards and repercussions of her actions until she clenched her fists to her temples. For better or for worse, she was going out there. She would storm his senses before he could think, before the serious, noble side of him demanded he act with honor. She wanted the charmer, the rake, the man who had been seducing her for weeks. That man would make love to her.

With her stomach cartwheeling, she wrenched open the door and stepped into the parlor. +++ Boyd looked up from the carving hed been fiddling with. Claire Ashier, the widow he wanted to seduce, the woman he wanted to protect, stood before him in her lacy white chemise and drawers. Silky, golden hair draped her narrow shoulders and breasts, lifting and falling with each panting breath from her parted lips. Her stormy blues eyes, filled with questions and doubts were fixed on him. He could barely force words from his tight throat. What are you doing? She crossed the carpet and sat beside him on the sofa. Im ready to give you that sinful kiss, she whispered. His knife and wood carving fell to the floor. Tonight, she said. If you want me. If he wanted her? Maniacal laughter welled up inside him. Hed wanted her from the first time hed seen her standing on her porch. That evening shed tried to scare him by pointing her revolver at him, but shed intrigued him instead. Tonight, though, he knew real danger. Her bare skin and lacy garments were weapons he couldnt defend against. Her nearly naked body was a lure he could not turn away from. She angled her breasts toward him, her long, bare, incredibly gorgeous legs stretched out beside his. Do you want me? God, yes. He wanted to devour her. He gripped her arms and held her away from him. Any man alive would want you. I dont want any man. I want you. He could hardly believe this was the same Claire who mere weeks ago had refused to let him touch her foot. I shouldnt have allowed you to drink so much wine. You didnt allow me to do anything, she said. Im capable of making my own decisions, and Ive decided I want you. She leaned forward and kissed him, fusing their mouths together with such heat, his mind reeled away like a runaway tire hoop. She lifted her knee across his lap, fitting herself more tightly against him, killing him, killing his willpower, killing every thought but those of her. He roamed his hands over her body, sculpting her rounded bottom beneath his palms, pulling her around to straddle his hips, promising he would stop soon. He kissed her tenderly. She took the kiss deeper, pushing him to respond until his breath came in gasps against her cheek. She arched her neck, offering her smooth white throat to his mouth. He tasted her, sucked and kissed and nibbled until she lifted his palm to her breast. He groaned, believing hed betrayed her with the wine. We need to stop. We dont. She tugged her chemise up over her waist, over the full globes of her creamy taut breasts, over her head until she had bared her torso. God in heaven, she was beyond beautiful, surpassing every dream hed ever had of her. Hunger gnawed at him as he looked at her. She was no virgin. She knew what she was doing, what she was asking for. My imagination didnt do you justice. He stroked his thumbs across the hardened peaks of her dusty brown nipples, knowing he should stop, that she deserved more than a tumble on his sofa. Shed been hurt by her husband. He didnt want to add to her heartache. She threaded her fingers into his hair and kissed his neck, her tongue swirling over his skin.

He needed to get her out of his arms, out of his house. She raised her head, her eyes glassy from the wine, or passion, or both. Which gave him pause, which lured him on. Make love to me, she whispered. She rocked her hips against his groin and sent his heartbeat ricocheting through his chest like a bullet in a canyon. His body melted, then hardened, then ached like holy hell. With her face flushed and her hair flowing across her shoulders in waves of gold, she was too perfect. She had no idea what she was doing to him, of the inferno raging inside him. He gripped her wrists to stop her from unbuttoning his shirt. Im burning too hard, Claire. Its going to consume both of us if we dont stop. Let it burn, she said, her eyes fierce, her breath hot against his jaw. Let our passion scorch the walls. She rolled her hips against him, sending a stream of heat burning through his groin. He gritted his teeth, shaking from the battle raging between his desire and his conscience. He gripped her arms and forced her to look at him. Are you certain? Yes. She covered his mouth with her own, pressed her bare breasts into his palms. Like an insistent wind, she curled around him, caressing him, bending him to her will until a groan of surrender tore through him and he pulled her down beside him on the sofa. Desire rolled through him, boiling his blood, melting his will, burning away his resistance. She moaned into his mouth as he moved his fingers over her, slipped them inside her drawers, stroking her until she was as wild and greedy as he felt. She fumbled with the buttons on his trousers, caressing his hardness where it strained against the cotton fabric. She freed him then closed her fingers around his turgid heat. He groaned low in his throat, knowing he was lost, knowing shed just sealed their fate. He gripped her hand and stopped her before she pushed him over the edge. He bent down and slipped his arms beneath her. To Claires surprise, he cradled her body against his chest, and carried her through a door off the parlor. He lowered her feet to a plush carpet beside a huge four-poster bed then turned back a thick quilt. While she slipped between linens that smelled freshly laundered, he lit a lantern then slipped off his shirt. Dark hair fanned across his chest and over muscle and sinew as it descended and disappeared in the waistband of his trousers. The shadowy fringe of his eyebrows and lashes... and those dark eyes watching her made her burn. The force of his gaze tightened her stomach muscles and her breath caught. He brushed his knuckles across her cheek. I want to make love to you the way you deserve to be made love to. Of all the things he could have said to her in that moment, none would have filled her with more confidence or joy. She turned back the bedding to welcome him, her lover. Muscles shifted across his shoulders and tapered, naked back as he bent to lower the lantern wick. The room turned golden, his skin bronze. Unabashedly, she watched him shuck his trousers and drawers. Shed seen Jacks body through peeks and glimpses, the young girl in her too shy, the experienced woman too intimidated, to openly appraise him. But she wasnt shy or afraid tonight. The woman in her took a good, long look at the man she was inviting into bed, into her heart, into her life. Boyd was beyond impressive.

He slid beneath the covers and reached for her. She moved into his arms, coveting the warmth radiating from his hard body. The hint of bay rum clung to his neck and chest where shed nestled her head. What a surprise you are, he said, awe in his voice. She smiled against his chest, enjoying the rumble of his voice beneath her ear, enjoying his approval. Shed surprised herself too. It pays to be daring at times, she said, recognizing the truth of her words. How daring do you feel now? She lifted her head, expecting to see humor in his eyes. She saw banked fire. He scraped his blunt fingernails across her scalp, sending a delicious shiver through her as he slipped his fingers into her hair. I want to touch you all night, starting right here. He drew his thumb over her lips. And give you so much pleasure you beg me to stop. She never begged, but when he rolled her to her back and kissed and nibbled and stroked her until she was mindless and gasping, she considered it. And he hadnt even touched her below the neck. Roll onto your stomach, he said near her ear. A wicked thrill zipped through her, stealing her ability to speak. She hesitated, unsure what he was asking. He kissed her neck. Trust me. She would. Oh, she would. She rolled onto her stomach, trusting that whatever he did to her would be heaven. He sat up and spanned her back with his talented artists hands, moving his warm palms over her skin with slow, fanning strokes that made her moan. The tips of his fingers dragged across her skin, leaving behind a trail of gooseflesh that made her shiver with pleasure. His hands were magic, melting away the tension in her neck, her shoulders, her hips, and lower as he drew his hands down the length of her legs in long, gentle strokes. She moaned. And sighed. And moaned again. This is sinful, she said, her body deliciously alive. I learned how to do this from a Chinese lady a few years ago. For a worldly man, youve missed an important lesson. Youre not supposed to talk about other women at a time like this. Not even if shes old enough to be my great grandmother, and our relationship was platonic? That may give you some leeway. He slid his thumbs along her arch and around the ball of her foot, pushing up beneath her toes. She moaned, unable not to. I like making you moan. This is taxing, but I can bear it a bit longer. He laughed and kissed the arch of her foot. Tell me when it becomes too much for you. She smiled into his feather pillow, basking in the feel of his hands caressing her body. The depth of his kindness, and the pleasure he was giving her, was beyond anything shed ever experienced. So was the feeling of his lips kissing a leisurely trail up the backs of her legs. She gasped when he nipped the flesh on her bottom.

Turn over, he said, his voice ragged, his request gentle. Her heart pounded as she rolled to her back, exposing herself to him. He sat on his knees above her, appreciation shining in his eyes as he stroked his hands up her body. You are an artists dream. Your legs and curves and smile are a work of art. He leaned down and kissed her lips. Youre perfect. He kissed her breasts. Enchanting. He kissed her naval. Ravishing. He kissed herwhere shed never been kissed before. She gasped from the shock and the avalanche of pleasure rushing through her. She threaded her fingers into his hair, intending to make him stop, but she couldnt. Within seconds, she was moaning to the point of embarrassment, and praying he would never stop. As if he sensed her racing toward the edge, he rose above her and stretched out on top of her. The weight of his body pressing her into the mattress thrilled her. She shifted her knees, and he slid between her white thighs, entering her with a groan of satisfaction. She smoothed her palms over his back, loving the feel of his hard body, the crisp hair on his legs that brushed her inner thighs as he rolled and thrust inside her. She gripped his flexing buttocks, savoring the feel of him, the weight of his body shifting and pressing into hers. His kisses grew deeper, his thrusts firmer, until they were both gasping and clinging and squeezingand then she was there, leaping from the peak of the mountain theyd been climbing, hurtling into turbulent currents that shuddered through her body, twisting and spinning her out of control. She cried out, clinging to his sturdy shoulders as he lunged hard and followed her into the wild, passionate blaze they had built together. She embraced the heat, gloriously, wonderfully free, wondering how she would manage to love him for only one night. As Boyds heartbeat calmed, he watched Claire. She lay on her back, her body flush against his, her hair splashed across his pillow like rays of sunshine. Hed always prided himself on maintaining control of himself both physically and emotionally, but this woman, this vulnerable widow, had shaken his control and moved him beyond his wildest imaginings. Her daring had stunned and impressed him. Her lusty, playful participation in lovemaking had thrilled him. He stroked her silky hair, knowing he could make love to her a million nights, and not get enough of her. Even now, he yearned to wake her with a kiss. Instead, he held her in his arms for hours, stroking her hair, knowing he was completely and utterly trapped by his need for her. Buy LIPS THAT TOUCH MINE now at your favorite ebook store: http://www.wendylindstrom.com/wl%20ebooks.html

Wendy Lindstrom is the winner of Romance Writers of Americas prestigious Golden Heart and RITA Awards. Romantic Times has dubbed her one of romances finest Americana writers and she has earned comparisons to LaVyrle Spencer for her beautifully poignant, wonderfully emotional historical romances. Growing up in upstate New York with seven siblings, she fell in love with the rich landscape that would later inspire the setting for her award-winning Grayson Brothers series. When shes not researching or writing new adventures for her characters, Wendy practices tai chi, kickboxing, and karate. Visit Wendys website: http://www.wendylindstrom.com/ Like Wendys Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/authorwendylindstrom Subscribe to Wendys e-newsletter, Shout Out: http://www.wendylindstrom.com/

Justin
Tales of the Shareem Paranormal Romance

By Allyson James (aka Jennifer Ashley) Welcome to the Tales of the Shareemmen created solely for womens pleasure. Shareem come in three levels: Pure sensuality; Fun and games; and the Ultimate experience. Outlawed now, Shareem eke out a living in the backstreets of their city, restricted by rules that keep them near-prisoners, each searching for the one woman who will fulfill his long-denied need for love. Justin has spent much of his life as a free citizen, but he returns home to search for the daughter he was forbidden to have. But a feisty female patroller whos following him is getting in his way, especially when she keeps shooting him in the backside. Justin needs to protect his secrets, but he decides that the patroller is worth a second look, and maybe some instruction in level-two games. He sets out to seduce, but discovers that Deanna, his pretty patroller, has a few surprises of her own in store for him. Deanna cant understand why the exasperating Justin wont follow the rules, considering the trouble he keeps getting himself into. She also cant understand why he excites her so much patrollers are supposed to tame Shareem, not fall for them. But as Deanna uncovers his secrets, she learns exactly what Justin has given up, and what kind of courageous man lies behind the faade of the pleasure slave. In this scene, Deanna has just found out what Justin has been keeping secret from her and desperately needs to talk to him, but he wont answer his door. Using her patroller codes, she breaks into his apartment, to find him sound asleep on his bed. Seeing him lying naked, facedown, she cant resist turning the tables on the man who likes her at his mercy... Justin: Tales of the Shareem

Justin was having a bad dream. He was at DNAmo again, his hands and feet bound, while the scientists injected him with everything from suped-up adrenaline to the strongest tranquilizers to see what his system could take. He remembered his heart nearly exploding in his chest and him screaming, to being so groggy he barely had strength to breathe. If he doesnt make it, one of the scientists was saying, take a few DNA samples and incinerate the body. Kind of a waste, another said. Dont worry. He has a daughter. We can do the tests on her. No! Justin jerked his hands as he came awake, panting and sweating, and found his wrists still bound together. What the fuck? He lay facedown on his bed, nakedhed stripped off his clothes before hed fallen onto the mattress and never bothered with the covers. His arms were now stretched over his head, his wrists tethered to his headboard. The cuffs felt wrong, though. They werent the super-strong metal that had kept him constrained at DNAmo, but soft and warm, like his own toys. Someone had gotten out his handcuffs and manacled him to his own bed. Justin lifted his head, his headache pounding as he looked over his shoulder. He went instantly hard when he saw Deanna standing beside his bed, arms folded, her coverall half open to reveal the tunic beneath. What the fuck? he said out loud. Or maybe he should say, Be gentle with me, sweetheart. Then again, he didnt want any gentleness going on in this room right now. Rough play had its time, and that time was now. You didnt answer your com, Deanna said. Or your door. Busy. Then drunk. And sound asleep. You never heard me come in. Are you arresting me? Again? Have to admit, this is more fun than the first time. Or do you have a stun gun ready to go? I should, Deanna said. But I dont. She put her hand on his bare shoulder, and Justin jumped like hed been shocked. I was thinking about a dream I had after I met you. I dreamed I came into your apartment, and you were tied to a chair, waiting for me. Justin got harder. Yeah? You have a thing for putting me in bondage, do you, Patroller? Maybe. Deannas voice was soft. Though I dont know why. Youre a closet dominatrix? I dont even know what that means. You like being in control, Justin said. You want to be the one holding the whip, so to speak. Maybe thats why you became a patroller. I dont know. Again the soft wonder. I like both ways, I think. Justin broke into a warm sweat. Thats what a level two likes to hear. Deanna reached for the bedside table, and he realized that his box of accoutrements lay open on it. His heart beat faster as she lifted something out of it. What are these? She showed him the three small balls nestled in their velvet-lined box. Those are for you. To remind you of me when Im not around. Want me to show you how to use them?

Not yet. Deanna returned the box, to his disappointment, and brought out a slim, small plug. What is this? Ass plug. Do you use it on yourself? Sometimes. Why? Why? Why bother to eat delicious food when bland fare will keep you alive? Justin shrugged the best he could. It feels good. Full. Stimulating. Want me to show you? Deanna examined the little plug in curiosity. It wasnt very big, just enough to feel, to enhance the ladys pleasure while he pleasured her in other places. How does it...? How do you...? Lube. In the jar. Smear it on, and it goes in nice. He held his breath while Deanna opened a jar of flowery-smelling lube and tentatively smeared it on the plug. Watching her concentrate, the toy near her face, had him throbbing and ready. Justin pulled at his cuffs, but they wouldnt budge. Hed designed them himself, and hed done a good job. Deanna put the lube away, then her lips quirked into a little smile as she touched the plug to Justins buttocks. It goes here? Justin stiffened. She didnt mean she wanted to try it on herself. Oh, no. His little patroller preferred to torture Justin. He forced himself to relax. You have to play a little bit. Get me ready and open. Its a very sensitive place, and it can hurt if you rush. I wont hurt you, Justin. Gods, hearing her say that in her sexy little voice was going to make him lose it way too soon. Put lube on your fingers. Then touch me there, very gently, until I open to you. Deanna nodded, her expression solemn. He might be instructing her how to fix a hovercar. He watched while she opened the lube again, making her fingers glisten. When she lowered her hand to his backside, Justin closed his eyes and moved all his attention to the warm, sensual pressure of her fingers. She had no idea what to do. An experienced woman would press around his entrance before slipping in a finger. Deanna touched, caressed, rubbed, and played, until Justin thought hed come off the bed. This was so backward. He should be tethering her, touching her, teaching her how to take the plug. But how sexy was it to teach her how to pleasure him, and how fucking good it was to lie here and take it. Under her silken touch, his cock got harder, his backside more ready. The warmth of her fingertip slipped insideby her start, she hadnt expected that. But shed learn that when it was time, it was time. Now, he whispered. He clenched his jaw when her warm, sweet finger went away, then made himself relax again when he felt the cooler press of the plug. It slid in, nice and snug, not too big. What does that feel like? Deanna asked, full of curiosity. Hot. Full. Satisfying. Good. Ill show you once you unlock me. She didnt move to. What else can I do to you?

Justins headache had disappeared. His body was pliant, warm, excited. Turn me over and suck me. Let me suck you. Get up here in front of me so I can fuck you. Want me to go on? Her eyes went wide at his blunt words, but she stood her ground. How could you... back to front? Justin leveraged himself to his knees, the plug staying put. He held on to the headboard, his cock sticking out like a thick pole. Theres plenty of room for you to kneel in front of me, even if you did chain me up. You mean... up my ass? The hesitant way she said it had him throbbing with longing. No, sweetheart. Thats too much for you yet. I mean in your pretty pussy. I can do you if youre in front of me. She wanted to. Her cheeks and throat were flushed, her nipples tight. Justin waited for her to turn and walk out, to leave him manacled and needy, to have second thoughts about being here at all. Then she pulled her coverall down and stripped out of her underclothes. Naked, she was sleek and beautiful, her breasts full, hips curved, legs strong. Still, Deanna hesitated, hands pressed together, fingertips at her mouth. Im your prisoner, Deanna Surrell, Justin said, his need for play rising. What do you want your prisoner to do? Deanna swallowed, her slender throat moving. All at once, she ducked under his arm and came up on the bed, facing him. This, she said, and kissed him. +++ Deanna shook all over as Justin kissed her, his strong mouth pinning her despite his hands being cuffed. Touching him had been exciting, watching him respond to her had made her feel powerful and tender at the same time. Before when hed loved her, hed started slowly, caressing. This time, his mouth punished, his teeth catching and nipping her lips. Turn around, he said. I thought I was the one calling the shots, Deanna said. Turn around and take hold of the headboard, before I break out of my chains and swat your ass. Deanna shivered, a dark excitement rushing through her. She kissed his lips one more time, then obeyed. She wasnt certain that there was room, but Justin told her how to get positioned in front of him, her back to him, hips canted up and open to him. She jerked when his tip pressed her opening... no, he wouldnt fit. Before Deanna could slide away in worry, Justin pushed himself all the way inside. He was filling her up, spreading her, too much, too much. Having him inside her the first time had felt good, but this took her breath away. You like that, Deanna? he asked. Sweet baby. You like being full of me? Yes. Yes. Youre a cute little tease. Justins hands were strong on the headboard, his forearms bunching with muscle. Binding my hands, playing with my ass. I cant let you get away with that. No, she said breathlessly. So take me. Take all of me.

She was taking all of him, whether she liked it or notand she decided she definitely liked it. Im only sorry I cant spank your ass while Im doing you, Justin said. But you have me chained. Later, though, Ill make up for it. Spank her? Deanna wasnt sure what to think of that. But Justin thrusting against her, his balls slapping her ass, made a pleasant tingle on her skin. He kept thrusting, never slowing, never backing off the power. Deanna lost control of her words, crying out how much she loved what he was doing to her. Justins dark voice responded, calling her his, telling her what he wanted to do to her, how much he loved fucking her. It went on until Deanna was certain nothing in her life had ever existed but this bed beneath her hands and knees, the strong man thrusting into her and making himself a part of her. Fire ignited where they joined and ran through her body, the stream of it one, and whole. Deanna. Gods. Fuck. Justins seed scalded into her, as Deanna continued to come apart. She wanted to cry, the feeling so beautiful, knowing that it wouldnt last. She heard the sound of tearing metal, then Justins hands were on her back, his weight pressing her down into the bed. He started to laugh, his breath hot in her ear. Justin caressed her hair, turning her head so he could kiss her, still laughing. The chain had broken, Justins hands still in the wide cuffs, but no longer tethered together around the headboard. Deanna laughed too, loving how his body shuddered on top of hers. He was still inside her, still hard, but they moved more slowly together, until they drifted to silence. Justins bedside clock chimed softly to show that it was full morning, the sun up now, the last thing Deanna heard before she drifted to sleep. Buy JUSTIN: TALES OF THE SHAREEM now at your favorite ebook store: http://www.allysonjames.com

Award-winning author Allyson James is a pen name of New York Times bestselling author Jennifer Ashley. Allyson has written more than 45 published novels and novellas in romance, urban fantasy, and mystery under the names Jennifer Ashley, Allyson James, and Ashley

Gardner. Her books have been nominated for and won Romance Writers of Americas RITA (given for the best romance novels and novellas of the year), several RT BookReviews Reviewers Choice awards (including Best Urban Fantasy and Best Shapeshifter Romance), Prism awards for her paranormal romances, and Passionate Plume and CAPA awards for her erotic romances. Visit Allysons website: http://www.allysonjames.com Like Allysons Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/jenniferashleyallysonjamesashleygardner Subscribe to Allysons e-newsletter: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/allysonjames/

Hidden Crimes
Paranormal Romance

By Emma Holly Cats and dogs shouldnt fall in love. Like any wolf, RPD detective Nate Rivera knows this. He cant help it if the tigress hes been trading quips with at the supermarket is the most alluring woman hes ever metsassy too, which suits him down to his designer boots. Evina Mohajit is aware their flirtation cant lead to more. Still, she relishes trading banter with the hot werewolf. This hardworking single mom hasnt felt so female since her twins baby daddy left to start his new family. Plus, as a station chief in Resurrections Fire Department, she understands the demands of a dangerous job.

Their will-they-or-wont-they tango could go on forever if it werent for the mortal peril the citys shifter children fall into. To save them, Nate and Evina must team up, a choice that ignites the sparks smoldering between them...

Hidden Crimes
The fact that Nates boss thought Evina couldnt be trusted didnt seem like news he ought to share by phone. Because it was past eleven, when shed mentioned her shift started, he made the ten-minute drive out to Company Number 5. He parked across the street half a block from their garage bay. This was where their limegreen tiger-striped fire trucks would pull out. Evinas station owned two apparatuses. The first was a pumper. As Nate understood it, pumpers increased the pressure of hydrant water, to ensure it would blast from hoses onto a blaze. The second truck was a lengthy ladder and platform deal, designed for attacking fires or entering buildings from high floors. The pup in Nate was excited to be close to these life-size toys. The man in him preferred the prospect of sniffing around Evina. From the moment hed seen her behind her cart at the Holy Foods, his sexual antenna had been hyper-tuned to her. His pulse quickened as he left his car, his outlook brightening in spite of the awkwardness of his errand. A second later, he realized seeing her wasnt going to be simple. A tiger were the size of a refrigerator was working in the bay. He was folding a soft-sided hose so that it accordioned neatly into a compartment on the truck. The taut set of his giant shoulders told Nate the tiger knew a stranger was approaching. You cant park there, the firefighter said without bothering to turn his head. The implication that Nate posed no threat was a classic wereanimal insult. Theres no sign, Nate said, taking in the mans height and build. He was bigger than Nates packmate Rick67 if he was an inch and equally muscle-bound. He could bench press Nate without effort but wouldnt be as fast. This knowledge was in his voice as he continued. I made sure your trucks would be able to get by if they went out in that direction. The man tucked up the last of the hose and turned. His hair was strawberry gold and wavy, his skin a rosy cream color. Many weretigers were of Indian descent but not all. This fellow looked like a Celt to him. When he spoke, a growl rolled under his voice. You misunderstand me, dog. You cant park anywhere near here. A grin broke across Nates face. He wasnt any more afraid than if this had been his packs beta. Nate knew how good he was at hand-to-hand. Civilized or not, some big lunk spoiling for a tussle put him in his happy place. I can park there, he said, and I have. If you want a piece of me for that, by all means give taking one a shot. Enjoying this, he spread his hands and grinned more broadly, his fingers beckoning the other on. The fireman lunk measured Nate scornfully with his gaze, tiger gold bleeding into Irish blue. He rolled onto the balls of his feet and tucked in his shoulders, clearly preparing to pounce into an attack. Laughing silently to himself, Nate thought: here, kitty! Then the tiger did the last thing he expected. Rather than spring, he blinked twice and backed off. Nates game-for-anything attitude had averted fights before, but guys this big didnt generally give up so fast. Huh, the fireman said, the sound of dismissal at least half cat. He narrowed his eyes at Nate, as if suspecting the wolf had played a trick on him. Dont be planning to park there long. I wont, Nate promised, his meekness almost sincere. Is your boss around?

The tigers eyes slitted more. Evina is in her office. Though Evina was this prides alpha, as a female shed be considered a pride possession one theyd instinctively do anything to defend. Nate walked through the garage bay with the awareness that hostile eyes followed him. It didnt seem wise to challenge his watchers by staring directly, but he couldnt help noticing every cat he passed was as massive as the first guy. Evidently, when it came to the RFD, runts of the litter need not apply. Females werent barred from serving if they could pass the physical, but except for her, Evinas crew was male. He was a bit surprised when he completed their gauntlet without trouble. Well, he thought, passing into an empty sitting area. That was interesting. Inhabited as it was by felines, the buildings smell caused Nates wolfish nose to twitch. The aroma wasnt unpleasantmusky, he guessedand not what he was used to. The lounge-type furniture wasnt bad. Secondhand and worn out by large bodies, heaps of colorful pillows brightened it. Nates inner neat freak approved of how clean the place was underneath its slight messiness. Rick and Tony were way bigger slobs than this. A station house run by cats did have its upside. He ascended a set of wooden stairs within the big open space. The steps led to an enclosed office, or maybe perch was a better word. Like Nates boss Adam, Evina worked with her door open. Metal support columns were the only barrier between the lounge space and the garage. From her big square window, she could view everything. She didnt seem to have watched him run her mens gauntlet. She was on the phone leaning on one elbow, her graceful hand shielding her pretty eyes. Knowing she must have heard him by then, Nate waited politely outside the door. She ended the call soon after and looked at him. Although she seemed curious about his presence, she gestured him to a guest chair whose seat had been repaired with bright blue duct tape. Patch job notwithstanding, it was more comfortable than Adams. That was the hospital, she said. One of my men suffered third degree burns yesterday. The doctors are trying to adjust his pain meds so that hes not too drugged to change. Hes expected to make a good recovery, once he can manage that. Im sorry, Nate said, wincing at the thought of not being able to heal such serious injuries. Is there anything I can do? The question came out automatically. Nate saw it surprised Evina. She widened her lustrous eyes at him. Not unless you can compel another shifter to change form. Im afraid thats not among my gifts. My alpha can do it sometimes, Nate said, but as far as I know, his influence only works on wolves. Your alpha... Nate smiled, glad redressing her earlier misconception had been easy. Yes. As it happens, I have a beta too. I thought... She trailed off. I know. I realized last night. Believe me, Im flattered. She shifted in her swiveling chair, her eyes considering him in a similar fashion to her hulking Irish guard cat. Im surprised. You give off quite the aura of confidence. Im confident about a lot of things, Nate said, not quite straight-faced. She blushed, delighting the most masculine part of him. Yes, she said dryly. I noticed that.

She pulled one foot up onto her chair, hugging her shin with both arms. Her foot was bare, her shin clad in worn blue jeans. Something about the pose, or maybe the bright red polish on her toenails, gave Nate an instant erection. Why are you here? Evina asked, seeming unaware of this. I expected you to call. Ah. With one finger, Nate scratched his cheek in embarrassment. It appears my alpha doesnt find your vision of what happened in that secret operating room as compelling as I do. He cant be planning to ignore it. Nate shrugged uncomfortably. He doesnt think what you saw is evidence of a crime. Well, fuck, Evina said, the word too hard for her lush soft mouth. Youre not going to ignore it, surely. No. I convinced him to give me a detective and a couple uniforms. Theyll canvas the area around the factory. Hopefully, someone will have seen something. And the childs description? Im afraid I came up empty-handed at Missing Persons. No ones reported a shifter child that age disappearing in the last eighteen months. Theyll check farther back, but Im not holding my breath. Those psychic impressions I read were fresh, Evina said firmly. Not more than a few months old. She jumped up and began to prowl the width of her office behind her desk. She reminded him of her tigress, the sight of which had enchanted him last night. She was more than wild; she was shifter sex on two legs. Muscles moved in her body that had him imagining her in bed. His hardon shifted from uncomfortable to raging. He ordered himself not to tug his trousers and draw her eyes to it. When she suddenly stopped and faced him dead on, excitement slapped through his blood. Shed come around the desk and was only feet from him. Well go to the media, she said. My mothers dating a news producer at WQSN. Nonwolves dont always report trouble to the cops. A direct appeal for information could generate some leads. Nate considered. WQSN was Resurrections third largest TV network. Their all-shifter soap operas were very popular. A sketch of the boy you saw would help, he said, shoving aside his awareness of how ticked his alpha was going to be if they did this behind his back. I know an artist who could work with you on one. Good. Evina smiled ferally at him. She stood in front of him, her bare feet planted, her fists pushing at her waist. The teeth her smile bared seemed especially white and sharp. To him, she was a miniature Valkyrie. A tiger queen, he corrected, who any male would be privileged to surrender to. I want to fuck you so bad I hurt, he blurted. She jerked, startled by his bluntnessas he was himself. Nate usually played his seduction cards more smoothly. A second later, her face flushed dark and her lovely bosom went up and down. Nate realized the tips of her breasts were sharp. That spurred a surge of heat he didnt know how to squelch. Luckily, he didnt have to. Evina reached down, grabbing him by the skinny tie he wore with his black silk shirt. Come with me, she said huskily. His hormones went haywire. Skin humming with arousal, he fought not to stumble as she tugged him onto his feet. Stronger than her size would suggest, she pulled him to her desk and

around it. In his current panting state, he was almost willing to cast caution to the winds and let her take him on top of it, in clear view of her oversized pride members. His pretty hide was grateful when a panel in her rear wall swung open. The hidden door revealed a small private compartment. Welcome to my kitty hidey hole, she purred. He caught a glimpse of tufted saffron-colored leather, which padded both walls and floor. The floor was no more than three foot square, not big enough to lie down unless you were as small as she was and curled up. To want a private space like this must have been a cat thing. At the moment, the lack of size didnt matter. Evina shoved the door closed behind them. A light came on, an exotic bazaar-style lantern dangling from a chain above. Rrr, she saidpart funny, part seriousas she slammed him unresisting against the wall. The little growl skipped along the nerves of his penis, making it thrum and throb. By this point, his cock was hard enough to pound railroad spikes. He reached for her bottom to pull her softness closer. She groaned as he hitched her up. Nate wondered if a person could die of thankfulness. No one can blame me for this, she said. Wolf or not, you are too damned yummy. When her lips seized his and her sharp-tipped breasts flattened against his chest, Nate decided no one could blame him either. +++ Evinas memory hadnt exaggerated his skill at kissing, or how hard his lean body was. He pulled her up him effortlessly, big hands arranging her thighs around his trim waist. That done, he kneaded her bottom enticingly. Her pussy tightened at the press of the bulge that stretched his trouser front. God, he was big and exactly what she needed. The ache inside her had been building ever since he arrived. Now her head fell back, and Nate kissed a licking, stinging path down her neck. He was almost biting her, almost sucking hard enough to leave marks. This should have dismayed her, but every nerve she had sang with excitement. Her hands tightened on his shoulders, so wide, so spare of any cushioning but muscle. She rolled her pubis over his large hard-on, hungry to stimulate both herself and it. Nate grunted and shoved his crotch at her harder. My God, she breathed, loving how strong he was. This is going to be good. Were doing this? he panted. This is on? This is so on. He let out that grunt again and turned her, shoving her spine into the wall. They kissed openmouthed and urgent, growing increasingly aggressive now that theyd given in to their attraction. Nates clever seducers fingers opened her jeans and slid in. His hand was underneath her panties, the smooth hard tips of his fingers moving into her wet folds. He understood she wasnt breakable. When he found the pulse and swell of her clitoris, he gave it a good strong squeeze. Her private break room was soundproofed, but her throaty moan still struck her as too noisy. Not too noisy for him. Nate kissed her harder and continued to rub her clit, his thumb and fingers rolling it between them. He was skilled at this, seeming to know exactly where the little rod was most sensitive. She supposed he might be reading her energy, not an uncommon gift among weres. Whatever his secret, he took advantage. He rubbed her sweet spots over and over, alternating the pressure just enough not to numb them out. Sensation coiled inside her groin, tingling, spreading, rising so swiftly it startled her.

Dont, she gasped into his mouth. Do, he urged, breathing raggedly. He wanted her to come without him, and that wasnt how she intended this to go. She fumbled for the front of his nice trouserssome designer brand, she could tell. I want you inside me. I want you with me. His fastenings were more complicated than hers. Getting nowhere with opening them, she gripped his erection through the cloth. He growled at her. He sounded a little angry, but shed gotten her message across. Crap, he said when she refused to let go. Capitulating for now, he released her pussy and butt, allowing her legs to slide down his. He dropped then, managing to reach his knees in the confined space. Anger forgotten, he nuzzled her belly through the traditional tunic shirt she wore. He inhaled, long and slow, and she knew he was drawing in her essence. The room was too cramped for him to bend lower. Considering his hum of pleasure, she had no doubt he would have otherwise. She looked down just as he turned his face up to her, his cheek against her stomach. His dark eyes glowed gold within his lashes, almost like a tigers would. He smiled so sweetly and yet so wryly that her heart felt momentarily uncomfortable. He knew how impractical their attraction was. Her hand had fallen to his hair and was stroking it. It was hard not to notice his was silkier than hers. This is liable to be fast, he warned humorously. Then I guess well have to do it more than once. Good. I dont want to hear any nonsense about us getting this out of our systems. That startled her. She had been thinking along those lines. He distracted her by grinning, after which he yanked her worn denim jeans and panties all the way down her legs. Since he wasnt able to kiss them, his hands claimed the honor of admiring her naked calves. He smoothed his touch from their shifting muscles to the back of her knees, where the warmth and sensitivity of his palms did amazing things to places he wasnt close to touching. Evina wondered if he had a roadmap to every womans erogenous zones. He certainly seemed to be taking a tour of hers. The energy with which the nerves in her clit were jumping completely unnerved her. Are my legs all youre interested in? she asked tartly. He snorted out a laugh. Id remind you patience is a virtue, but as it happens, Im not feeling virtuous myself. He proved it by rising so awkwardly his elbow thumped the wall. The room is padded, she pointed out when he cursed softly. Its small, he countered. So am I, she teased. His eyes locked onto hers like lasers. In spite of his clear good humor, the predatory lowering of his brows caused her to shudder erotically. Cream trickled from her, filling the space with scent. Nates nostrils flared, one hand moving between them. To her surprise, he wasnt aiming for her sex. Quicker with his trousers than shed been, he lowered his zipper with a spine-tingling rasp. Evinas pride couldnt prevent her from starting to pant like him. Touch me, he ordered. No one ordered her. Not at work and not in bed. Her head spun from his male scent, different from what she was used to but apparently effective at calling to her sexually. In truth, the

differences made him call to her harder. Evina couldnt remember being this desperate to do the deed before. You want me to touch your cock? she asked, the question soft and breathy. He took her wrist and placed her hand over him. Though he wasnt rough about it, she wasnt certain she could have resisted. She wanted to touch him too badly andohhis cock was silky. His skin burned beneath the curve of her fingers, the pulsing of his flesh too exciting not to savor. Touch it all over, he instructed. Dig me out of my jockstrap. Feeling odd for being so biddable, she freed him from the stretchy cotton. With her second hand, she eased out his testicles. They were tight and full, their skin roughened by light hair. Her fingers had their own cleverness. She played with his sac enough to have him biting back swear words. Then she dragged both her hands up his long hard shaft. He watched her do it, his head hanging helplessly. The tip of him was wet, luring her thumbs to massage the moisture around his crest. Under the rim seemed worth getting slick, and that killing spot on the throat. Nate seemed to like when she worked pressure into that. She treated him as if he werent breakable either. God, he gasped as she returned to his tip for more lubrication. She pushed across his hole until he shuddered. God, Evina. Take me now, she said, judging hed give in. He looked at her. Lust had burned away his sadness and his humor, narrowing his focus to her alone. Tension caught in her throat as he lifted her by the rear again. Her legs bare, she gripped his waist with her thighs, needing no urging to squeeze them around him. He shifted his hips, and his crown nudged her labia. His eyes went dark a second before they flared. She knew why his irises had lit up. She was even wetter than shed been when he was fingering her. He pushed inward without a word, and she took him the same way. His cock was smooth and hot and thicker than shed expected, stretching her soft wet walls. When he needed a different angle to penetrate completely, she cocked her pelvis to it for him. He closed his eyes to slide in that last fraction, his hips wriggling against hers in a lovely rooting motion she couldnt doubt he enjoyed. Her pussy clenched around it, the ache his deep pressure stirred marvelous. His lashes rose and he smiled at her. What do you like? he asked. Fast? Slow? She blinked. It bothered her that he could ask this, that his control remained unshaken. Shouldnt even a Romeo lose his cool for her? Rather than spoil the moment, she shoved her pique aside. I like it fast, she answered. And hard. He pressed his lips to hers once, gently. As my lady commands, he said. +++ Nate liked all sorts of women and all sorts of lovemaking. That said, there was nothing quite like letting loose with a fellow were. He could hardly imagine a better match than for his preferences than Evina. She fit him in ways he hadnt known a woman could. Her slighter size made him want to protect her while her curves urged him to maraud. The groan of enjoyment that welcomed his first hard thrust told him he could get away with that.

Even better, her assertiveness challenged the side of him that just knew it could take charge. He wanted to devastate her with every trick his years of lovemaking had taught him. Unfortunately, he was too busy rocketing to Crazy Land for that. No matter how fast and deep he drove his cock into her, his nerves urged him to grab more. She was helping, her ankles hooked tight in the small of his back, her heels digging in each time she thrust with him. Their bodies slapped each other more noisily than they did the padded wall. Evina was so wet it would have been a crime not to make the most of her welcome. Nate braced one foot on the wall behind him to add to his thrusting power. He grunted at the immediate enhancement of sensation. Each time he slung in her was like visiting heaven. Knowing her tigers were outside, he tried to be quieter. He might have saved himself the trouble. Evina was making more of a ruckus than he was. Shit, she said, her fingernails pricking holes right through his nice silk shirt. The idea that she was excited enough to lose control of her shape sent his arousal into the stratosphere. His own fingertips were hot, his claws trying to lengthen too. He reined them in with all his will, preferring not to bloody her cute bottom. God, youre hot, he swore, pumping still harder into her. Evina bit her lip and tensed. Her head lashed from side to side on the tufted leather, the motion a silent no, no, no. Nate concluded she didnt want to let go before he did. Me too, he whispered, jerking his mouth closer to her ear. My balls feel like theyre about to explode with come. It seemed she liked dirty talk. She whimpered and went for him, the strong contractions of her pussy incredible on his cock: soft wet ripples dragging him to the brink. Nate gasped, the fullness in his testicles increasing by what felt like a power of ten. He couldnt have held on for anything. Sheer primal need overtook experience. This was the moment when he and his beast were one. Losing it, he cried out and shoved in as the heat of ejaculation rushed intensely from him. Her heels pulled in on his tailbone at exactly the perfect time, locking him as deep as he could go inside her while her sex clamped like a vise around him. The pleasure of all those pressures made him groan. Pain, of course, wasnt what pulled the sound from him. God, he breathed as the ecstasy petered out. Shed flung her arms around him at the climactic moment, instead of simply gripping his shoulders. Nate doubted shed planned to do this but liked the full-on hug. He nuzzled her sweaty temple, relishing the feel of her hard breathing. Because her pussy was quivering slightlystill coming, was his guesshe took a firmer grip on her hips and stroked gently out and in. His erection was mostly hard and this felt really nice to him. To her as well, he noted. Though she was very wet from their mutual orgasm, he couldnt miss the increase in her interior temperature. Jeez, she said in a worried tone. Her concern inspired a chuckle. We can do it again, you know. That didnt take all that long, and weres are hard to exhaust. She lifted her head from his chest. Her eyes were suspicious but still glassy with pleasure. Dont take seducing me for granted. Did I seduce you? He laughed, more ebullient at that moment than he could recall being in a while. I thought it was the other way around.

Buy HIDDEN CRIMES now at your favorite ebook store: http://www.emmaholly.com/books.htm

Emma Holly is the award-winning, USA Today bestselling author of more than thirty romantic books, featuring vampires, demons, faeries and just plain extraordinary ordinary folks. She loves the hot stuff, both to read and to write! Emma Hollys name on the cover guarantees a smoking-hot read! New York Times bestseller Lara Adrian Visit Emmas website: http://www.emmaholly.com Like Emmas Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/EmmaHolly.author Subscribe to Emmas e-newsletter: http://www.emmaholly.com/contest.php

Trust Me
Vampire Romance

By Lori Devoti Dhamphir Harry Bisson has been hunting the female vampire who turned his father for over a century. The vampire, who has been building her power by feeding off her own family, thinks her bloodline has run out, but Harry has found one last relativeLindsey Dennis: beautiful, trusting and the perfect bait. With no knowledge of vampires, Lindsey thinks Harry is her savior and the key to finding the family she has always dreamed of having. Will Harry save her? Or will his thirst for revenge cause him to sacrifice the only woman he could ever love? Devoti delivers a tantalizing read. Eve Silver, National Bestselling Author

Trust Me
Chapter 8 Harry stood outside Lindseys apartment door, his hand balled into a fist, ready to knock. Lindsey had left the bar an hour earlier. Harry had sent Brett to escort her as far as the buildings front door, with a message that Harry would be arriving later. Hed used the time to place a new ward on the roof and to double check that the camera hed ordered installed on her balcony, while she was occupied with Emilie, was operating properly. With the new ward and camera in place, there was no reason for him to stay tonight, and he planned to say as much to Lindsey. Not about the wards or camerathose, like most things

involving the bar and Harrys plans, would stay secret from Lindseybut he could tell her the nonexistent fire escape was gone and assure her the building was now safe. There was no reason for him to spend the night in her apartment. His own apartment, where he could monitor the balcony on the newly installed security camera and hear any disturbances, was close enough. Confident with this new plan, he knocked on the door. +++ After leaving Brett at the entrance of the building, Lindsey had come upstairs, showered, and put on clean clothes. Her earlier scrub with the wet wipes might have cleaned off the visible blood, but it had taken much more to make her presentable. And, cheap though they might be, she preferred wearing her own clothing. The feel of hot water pounding onto her face had been reassuring, but as she sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and staring at the french doors that opened onto the balcony, she found herself craving another of Harrys drinks. The sound of a fist on the apartments door caused her to jump. Wary but also glad to be snapped out of her fixation on both the balcony and the alcohol, she deserted the couch and approached the door. She placed her hand on the wood and leaned forward. Lindsey, its me. At Harrys voice, she jumped again. Shed been expecting him, but she hadnt expected him to realize she was standing on the other side of the door listening. But perhaps he hadnt. Perhaps his comment had simply been him calling to her, knowing she was somewhere inside the apartment. She waited a second so it would appear she had just walked across the room, and then opened the door. He was wearing his suit, but it was creased, and his shirt, which he normally kept buttoned, was open at the neck. A triangle of bare skin called for her to reach out and touch. She folded her fingers into her palms and swallowed. I was thinking of having a drink. Would you like one? Without waiting for his reply, she walked into the kitchen. She heard the door shut behind him, but he didnt follow her. A few minutes later, with a scotch for him and a beer for herself, she walked out into the living area. He stood facing the french doors, his hands in the front pockets of his pants. As she approached, he turned. The fire escape is gone. I had someone take it down. She held out his glass. Scotch, unless youd rather have the beer. He shook his head. I added a... an alarm too, on the roof. You should be safe now. She nodded, but her mind wasnt on her intruder; it was on Harry. It had been a long time since shed dated anyone, and shed never dated anyone like Harry dark, handsome, and sophisticated, but also... intense. It was the intensity that got her, as if hed had a traumatic past, some memory or memories that haunted him. She wanted to curl up next to him on the couch, lay her head on his shoulder, and feel his arms around her. She wanted to hear his secrets and share her own, wanted to belong... with him, to him. She took a few tentative steps forward until she stood beside him, staring out the french doors. She tipped the beer bottle up until some of the bitter ale spilled into her mouth. Ill keep the doors locked, she murmured.

He turned so he faced her. It isnt... You dont have to. With the alarm in place and the fire stairs gone, your balcony should be safe. She could feel his gaze on her. She took another drink, became conscious of the act of swallowing, of the muscles in her neck moving. She licked her lips and tried to focus on the small scene outside the french doors, the railing and, past that, the top floors of the buildings across the street. I dont want you to be afraid, Harry added. Lindsey didnt want to be either, but the attack had left her shaken, brought back the dark outline of memories she wasnt sure were even hers. Her hand trembling, she took another sip of beer. So youll be okay. Harry moved back, his body turning toward the apartments entrance as he did. He was leaving. Her fingers tightening on the bottles neck, Lindsey spun. What about Karin? Was she safe? The thought had been nagging at her. Karin? For a moment, confusion clouded Harrys eyes. Then he blinked, and the confident, in-control bar owner was back. Nothing happened to Karin. She quit. How do you know? She gave me her noticeor lack of. But why? It doesnt make sense. She had just contacted me. Why would she quit and move away without leaving me some kind of a message? Lindseys thoughts were on Emilie and the questions shed stirred in Lindseys mind about Rodrigue. As Rodrigue said, shes done it before. Shell be back. Rodrigue. She tested the name, looked at Harry to see his reaction to it. His face was blank. No, not blank, veiled. Harry tapped his finger against his glass. Rodrigue knows her better than anyone. Unless he did something to her. It was the only explanation Lindsey could come up with, and it fit. If her cousin had left knowing that Lindsey was on her way, it had to be for a good reason. An abusive lover would be such a reason. Rodrigue? Real surprise showed on Harrys face. He shook his head. No. Not Rodrigue. There was no doubt in Harrys response; if anything, there was regret. Lindsey frowned, more confused than ever. Harry walked to the pass-through that opened the kitchen to the rest of the apartment and set his glass on the marble countertop. So you are safe here now. No one will bother you. His foot moved toward the door. Feeling numb, Lindsey stared at him. She wasnt okay. When she closed her eyes, she didnt see the teen. She saw another room, fuzzy but real. She felt lost and alone, but she wasnt alone physically. Someone else was in the roomtwo someones. A woman screamed and told Lindsey to run, but she couldnt. She stood trapped, frozen by her own fear. The smell of blood was intense, so real that Lindsey started to gag. I should go back, she mumbled. Even as she said the words, she knew she couldnt. There was nothing in Louisiana for her to return to. Shed come to St. Louis to find family, and now, more than ever, she realized just how important it was that she succeed. Go back? Harry swiveled toward her. No. His alarm was obvious, and Lindsey warmed inside. Harry didnt want her to leave.

She shook her head and brushed her fingers under her eyes. They came back damp. No. I cant. Not until I find Karin and know shes okay. Its just... I dont feel like Im getting anywhere, and if Im not... She swallowed. She wanted to find Karin, but she wanted Harry to tell her to stay for other reasons too. Harrys shoulders relaxed. He covered the space between them in two quick strides. Youve had a rough day. Now isnt the time to make decisions. His hands were empty, but he made no move to touch her. The image shed conjured up earlier, of sitting on the couch next to him, his arm around her shoulders, returned. Her heart ached. She wanted to step into his embrace, but he just stood there, gaze intense but hands at his sides. Suppressing a surge of disappointment, she walked past him and set the now empty bottle on the counter next to his glass. No. Probably not. Maybe after some sleep She cut her own words off. With sleep came dreamsand nightmares. She didnt know where the images that had been haunting her had come from, but she knew in her gut sleep wouldnt take them away. Maybe nothing would take them away, except finding her cousin and knowing she belonged. She lifted her chin and tried to look confident. Or I could go to the police stationmake sure theyre working on finding the guy that broke in. That isnt necessary. Harrys voice was harsh, demanding. Surprised, she looked at him. His posture was rigid, and his shoulders seemed even broader than usual. She could feel herself shrink backward. Harry seemed to notice her shift. He moved forward, took her by the hand, and led her to the couch. Then, her hand still in his, he sat next to her. That isnt how things are done at Bloody Harrys. We dont go to the police. You dont? Her brows lowered. She wasnt sure what he was telling her. No. He smiled. They come to us, like they did today. Oh. But they left. He squeezed her fingers. After getting a report from Brett. Andhe smiled and pulled out a cell phonea picture of the boy. I took it after you left and sent it to the detective in charge as soon as I heard they had left the bar. But if it will make you feel better, Ill put in a call. I can have detectives here in an hour if you like. An hour? She searched his face. He seemed 100 percent serious. His concern touched her. No. She shook her head. Harry had already done so much for her; she couldnt put him out more. I dont need that. I cant give them a better description than a photo, can I? I doubt it. He smiled again, warm and reassuring. But if it would make you feel better...? He raised his brows, extending the question. No. Im fine. I just... Didnt want to be alone. The thought of it paralyzed her. Then tomorrow? First thing. His fingers loosened. He pulled his hand back and stood. He was going to leave. She was going to be alone, again. For a second, blind panic set in. Then, unaware of what she was even doing, she rose from the couch and took three hurried steps toward him. She collided with his chest; her face pressed into his shirt. Her fingers latched on to the material, and she clung to him, feeling like an idiot, but needing this connection, needing to know she had a reason to stay in St. Louis, besides having nowhere else to go. Beneath her touch, he stilled. For a second, she didnt even feel him breathe. She closed her eyes and willed herself somewhere else.

She was an idiot. Shed known he wanted to leave, but she hadnt let him. No, shed bared her soul, shown him how needy she was. He wouldnt walk away now. He would run. +++ Harry couldnt breathe. He couldnt think. His mind was too filled with the scent and feel of Lindsey pressed against his chest. Hed known he couldnt stay here, known he had to think of a way to get out of his earlier promise, and hed thought he had. But now... Her fingers bunched the material of his shirt. Her hair tickled his chin. And her scent... It was the hardest of all to resist. Spring flowers, warm sun, and carefree days. Vampires knew none of those things. One season was much like the next, cloaked by the night, dark and dismal. And despite the fact that he was half humancould walk in the dayHarry had taken the vampire life for his own. Hed never walked in a field of flowers or enjoyed a picnic on a spring day. Hed never spent a carefree afternoon, not even as a child. Hed always known his life was meant to be dark and lonely. Im... Lindseys hand flattened against his chest. She pushed against him, widening the space between them. His eyes caught hers. She was sad and afraid... alone, he realized. As alone as he. His hand moved over hers, and he caught her fingers, stopping her from moving away farther. Youre what? he asked. His voice was low and gruff. He barely recognized it. I She couldnt seem to go on. But that was fine. Harry didnt want her to. Words would just remind him of why she was here. He leaned forward and caught her lips with his own. Her lips moved across his, tentative at first, like the brush of a butterflys wing. Her hand was still on his chest, flat and holding him at bay. He moved his hands behind her back and gathered her up against him. She tasted of the beer shed just consumed, but beyond the ales bitter tinge was a sweetness he found hard to trust. He opened his eyes and stared down into her face. High cheekbones and full lips. Eyes that when open were as blue as any sky could possibly be. She looked so much like the female he had sworn to kill. Too much. He closed his eyes then, blocking out her image, trying to block out his memories too. Marie Jean. Just as beautiful, Lindseys double, to be exact. His body tightened, and his nostrils flared. He shouldnt be here. His eyes closed, he didnt see Lindsey lean toward him, didnt know she was going to kiss him back, until she did. The pressure of her lips was stronger this time, more confident. Her hand moved to his shoulder, and her fingers wound through his hair. Despite his doubts, his mouth opened to hers, and her tongue flitted inside. Sweet. So damn sweet.

Marie Jean couldnt taste this sweet; she couldnt feel this warm. Marie Jean and this woman were as far apart as winter to spring, as death from first breath. And despite whatever the two might have in commonblood, face, historyhe couldnt stop himself from wanting this woman, Lindsey, right now. He had lost the battle. With a groan, he pulled Lindsey closer and gave up the fight. +++ Harrys arm slid under Lindseys legs. He pulled her into his arms and carried her back to the couch. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth tighter against her own. For a moment, shed thought shed lost him, thought whatever secrets he kept inside had won, but then hed reached for her, and shed known that finally, she wouldnt be alone. At least not tonight. His fingers stroked her back, comforting and reassuring. She laid her hands on his chest and felt the muscles beneath his starched cotton shirt. He breathed into her ear, soft and warm. A shiver danced down her spine, and the tips of her breasts hardened. His tongue darted out and flicked against her skin. She tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck. His tongue trailed lower, down the column of her throat to the tiny pulse at its base. She could feel her heart beating. The sound of it drowned out all other noise. She inhaled through her nose and tightened her grip on his shirt as if he might at any moment change his mind and try to pull away. As if sensing her fear, he murmured against her skin, familiar but foreignFrench. Her core tightened, and she wiggled on his lap. More, she whispered, not caring what he said, just wanting to hear the sexy gravel in his voice again. Tell me more. He murmured again, this time louder and more clear. Beautiful and sweet, hed called her. Shed never felt either. She wasnt tall, and she definitely wasnt willowythe things that, in her mind, men wanted. And sweet? She wasnt even sure what that was supposed to mean, but coming from Harry, in an accent that sounded so real she would have sworn he was a native Frenchman, she embraced both, even believed both for now. He tucked a length of her hair behind her ear and nibbled on her lobe. New frissons shot through her. Her back arched, and her legs curled toward her chest. She groped at his shirt, finding the buttons and slipping each through its opening. She needed to touch his skin, to feel his warmth, to taste him as he was tasting her. His shirt open, she jerked it down his shoulders. His mouth on hers, he finished what she had started, jerking the shirt off his body and tossing it onto the floor. Naked from the waist up, he pulled her close again. Her own shirt and bra felt tight and confining. She longed to be free of them. His hands ran up her sides, his thumbs caressing the undersides of her breasts. She wiggled again, willing him to unsnap the back closure and free her from the garments unwelcome limits. Her hands roamed over his chest. His skin was smooth and the muscles beneath it hard. Even at the bar, dressed in a suit, it was obvious his shoulders were broad and his body muscled, but unclothed he was even more impressive. She ran her fingers down his abs, admiring each ridge of muscle.

His hand moved to her back, and her bra fell forward. Relieved and excited, she pulled his face down to hers and traced the inner cup of his ear with her tongue. His body tightened, and he shoved her shirt and bra over her head and tossed them onto the floor. She shifted on his lap so she straddled him and stared down into his face. With the lights on, she had nowhere to hide. She felt bold and brazen, braver than shed ever felt before, and as his gaze moved from her face down her neck to her breasts, she didnt move, didnt try to cover herself. She pulled her shoulders back farther and luxuriated in his attention. Youre beautiful, he murmured again, this time in English. I understand why my He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together as if in pain. What? She leaned forward and cupped his face in her hands. His eyes opened, and she was reminded of his secrets, whatever they were. Pain and confusion hung heavy in his eyes. What? Tell me. For a moment, he didnt move; then he inhaled in one strong breath, and slowly his face relaxed. When he looked back at her, both the pain and the confusion were gone. Not now. Then he pulled her mouth back to his. His kiss was harder this time, filled with passion and intent. His fingers pressed against her scalp, holding her face in place. Not that she wanted to move, unless it was to get closer still. She opened her mouth to his tongue and clasped her hands around his neck. He slid her to the side so she fell onto the cushion beside them. His arm still holding her against him, he found the top button of her shorts and pulled them free. Wearing only her baby blue panties, she lay on the couch, excitement building inside her. He was above her now. A hand on each side of her face, he stared down at her. She ran her fingers over his chest, again marveling at the strength he kept hidden beneath his clothes. Im glad you stayed, he murmured. She nodded. She was too. And that you trust me. She did. She wouldnt be lying here on this couch with him if she didnt. She moved her hand lower until she found the waistband of his pants. Then, her eyes on his, she undid the clasp. She felt the material give, felt his swollen sex pop free of its confines. Slowly, she worked the material lower until it was past his hips. He kicked off the last of his clothing and stood before her, naked. Gloriously naked. The light from the kitchen shone from behind, illuminating every astounding square inch of the man in front of her. Her core tightened, and her breasts ached. She hooked her thumb in the waist of her panties and tugged them down until one hip was bare. She wanted him inside her now. He bent at the waist and stroked the length of her body with one hand. She lay there, afraid to breathe, afraid to move, afraid any action on her part would bring this impossible-to-believe moment to an end. When his fingers touched the silky cloth covering her sex, he paused and knelt beside her. One quick tug and she was naked too. He stroked the inside of her thigh, slow and confident, until she was wet and aching. She wiggled lower, willing him to touch her, more, deeper.

With a smile, he ran his fingers over her folds, separating them and stroking moreuntil heat built inside her, and she knew she was going to orgasm from the touch of his fingers alone. She gasped and grabbed his hand, not sure what she wanted him to do but knowing she was at this moment completely at his mercy. Gently, he pushed her back so she lay flat on the couch, open and every inch of her fully visible. Then he swirled his finger over the nub of her sex and swirled again. Continued until her fingers clawed at the cushions and her body flushed. When she thought she could take it no more, when she was sure she would explode without him inside her, he grabbed her by the hips and entered her with one thrust. The movement was rough and hard and everything she had wanted. He pulled out and moved forward again, hard, fast, and without apology. Her body tightened and tightened more. So tight she could hardly think. She lost track of time and place and everything but the pleasure of being with Harry. He was big and bold and everything she had never thought she would have. He lowered his face to her neck and nibbled on her skin. The sensation was slight but shocking, and her entire body reacted, tightened until tremors shot through her, sent her spiraling higher and higher until there was nowhere left to go. Her world burst, her climax shattering inside her, her reality expanding until it was allencompassing. Then slowly she fell, floating back to earth, back to Harry and the warm comfort of his arms. Buy TRUST ME now at your favorite ebook store: http://www.loridevoti.com/trust-me/

Lori Devoti worked for three different newspapers in two different states before deciding to stay home with her children and begin writing fiction. The author of urban fantasy, contemporary romance and paranormal romance, Lori has been a finalist for many awards including the Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award. She also writes the humorous Dusty Deals Mystery series under the name Rae Davies. Lori lives near Madison, Wisconsin with her husband and children as well as two dogs.

Visit Loris website: www.LoriDevoti.com Like Loris Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/LoriDevotiAuthor Subscribe to Loris e-newsletter: http://www.loridevoti.com/newsletter/

Ten Shades of Sexy. It has all the good parts!


We hope youve enjoyed this tantalizing taste of our novels. To get the latest news about our upcoming books, contest announcements, sneak previews, special offers and much more, be sure to subscribe to our free e-mail newsletters: Shelly Thacker: http://www.shellythacker.com/contact.html Kathryn Shay: http://on.fb.me/MGucuV Patricia Ryan: http://www.patricia-ryan.com/home.html Julie Ortolon: http://www.julieortolon.com/contact/ Patricia McLinn: http://www.patriciamclinn.com/newsletter Julianne MacLean: http://www.juliannemaclean.com/index.php?page=49 Wendy Lindstrom: http://www.wendylindstrom.com/ Allyson James: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/allysonjames/ Emma Holly: http://www.emmaholly.com/contest.php Lori Devoti: http://www.loridevoti.com/newsletter/

You might also like