by Lindsey Hart
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
BURNING TOUCH
Lindsey Hart
Jack, you were my rock when I needed one. This book is for you.
Contents
Free Download: HIJACKED BY HER GREEK BOSS
Copyright
About the Author
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
HIJACKED BY HER GREEK BOSS
AGAINST HIS WILL
HER CAPTOR
ROMANTIC TAKEOVER: Seduced
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BURNING TOUCH
Luna James knew from the second the handsome, larger than life stranger walked through the door of her tattoo shop requesting a cover up, that he was trouble. Her brutal track record with men should have taught her to stay away from him but somehow, she just couldn’t manage to forget his haunted eyes or the burning feel of his skin beneath her fingertips.
Knowing it was going to be pure torture, she accepted to work her art on his naked body at nightfall.
But the night held more secrets and danger than maybe she was prepared for. And it did not help either to have sparks fly left and right with her every touch of his naked skin.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical or electronic, including photocopying or recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, or transmitted by email without permission in writing from the publisher. While all attempts and efforts have been made to verify the information held within this publication, neither the author nor the publisher assumes any responsibility for errors, omissions, or opposing interpretations of the content herein. The book is for entertainment purposes only. The views expressed are those of the author alone and should not be taken as expert instruction or commands.
Copyright © Passion House Publishing Ltd 2018
All rights reserved.
You can contact the team at [email protected].
About the Author
Lindsey Hart is a married mom of a two-year old and lives in Ohio with her husband and two furry balls Persian cats who considers themselves to be the owner of the house.
She specializes in sweet to extra hot and dirty romance and strongly believes in happily ever after. If you are looking for a page turner, you are in for a wild and naughty ride with feisty heroine and alpha male heroes.
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CHAPTER 1
“Check out the code H at the front.” Adrianna Thompson actually ran to the back. She poked her head in the private booth where Luna was finishing up a drawing for a client’s sleeve. The guy was scheduled to arrive in two hours and she hadn’t bothered to start the damn drawing until half an hour ago. She was definitely feeling the pressure and didn’t need to be distracted by the code system she shared with her best friend and business partner.
H was for hot, of course. B was for bitch, A for asshole, C for… well of course everyone could figure that out. It wasn’t a real hard system to decode. Luna couldn’t even remember when she and Adrianna started using it. Probably about a year after they opened. One day they were likely bored, waiting for clients to show up before they got far too popular and far too busy to worry about downtime.
Had that really been five years ago? It was hard to believe time passed so quickly.
“Are you coming or what?” Adrianna hissed under her breath.
Holy. Whoever is out there must be truly smoking to get her so worked up. “I have to finish up this drawing. Go on ahead without me.”
Adrianna’s pretty green eyes widened in shock, like she couldn’t believe she was getting a free pass to hot dude city. Maybe all the conversations they’d shared over the years didn’t quite register in that moment. Luna wasn’t interested. Now or ever. Well, pretty much ever. She didn’t want to wind up alone in some sick parody of a spinster but she could certainly do without the drama she was so happy to have left behind the day she finally walked out on Jarod. Turns out that last black eye had been the straw that broke the camel’s back.
“Are you kidding me? You have to at least see him,” Adrianna pressed.
Luna refused to look up. She kept her attention glued to the koi and water she was currently producing. “Nope. I mean it, you have dibs. I’m way too booked anyway.”
“Gah!” It was truly what Adrianna muttered before she disappeared. The sound of her footfalls beating a fast pace down the short hall that led up to the front reception area was actually audible.
They were much heavier on their return trip. “What is it?” Luna didn’t look at Adrianna. Instead, her eyes strayed to the skull clock on the wall where it announced her appointment would be there before she finished her drawing. She turned back to it, trying desperately not to be distracted.
“He wants a cover up. Asked for you specifically.” Adrianna couldn’t have sounded more disappointed if she tried.
Luna’s head cranked up so sharply she nearly gave herself whiplash. Her pencil fell with a dull thud to her opened sketch book. “For fuck sakes,” she whispered under her breath. Of all the times someone needed to come in and demand her time.
“I’ll get rid of him if you want.” For some reason Adrianna’s statement sounded totally suggestive and Luna wondered just what it was the other woman intended to do to get said stranger out of there. Perhaps leave with him?
“No, it’s alright. I’ll go try and book him in. He probably won’t want to wait six months. No one does. That usually gets rid of them pretty fast.”
“I don’t understand you. This guy is hotter than sin. He’s hotter than sex. Why would you want to get rid of him?” Luna shot Adrianna a pointed look and her friend nodded sagely. “Oh. Right. I forgot you were off men and focused on work.”
“I don’t need another Jarod. Everyone is another Jarod at
this point.”
“It’s been three years.”
Panic struck like a hard fist to Luna’s gut. She recalled that last night, the night she’d finally had the courage to get out of that house while she still could. Jarod had come home in the middle of the night after drinking with his buddies, like he did every weekend. He was a mean drunk. No, that word didn’t even begin to cover the sadistic bastard’s actions. He’d promised. No more drinking. No more violent show downs in the middle of the night. Of course, he fucking promised. He always promised.
He’d pushed her anyway. Thrown her around the room like a ragdoll and beat her like he did every time he was liquored up. Except that time, it was one too many. There would be no apologizing in the morning. No amount of promises could fix the damage he did to her. He’d left her, in a heap on the floor. She remembered feeling pain. Everywhere. Finally, when she’d found the courage to get up and walk into the bathroom she looked at her bloodied nose, the black eye already forming, the split lip. The bruises on her body.
She’d walked out and hadn’t looked back. She’d saved up enough money by then, money Jarod could never get his hands on because she’d funneled it away through the business. He knew where she worked but luckily enough she had some clients who were tough mother fuckers and didn’t need to be paid to rough someone up. They’d warned Jarod and that had been the end of it. He always was a coward through and through.
Luna realized Adrianna was staring at her, waiting for an answer. She rose slowly, shaking off the bad memories like flicking a disgusting bug off her shoulder.
“I’m coming.” Luna followed Adrianna down the short hall, past the private rooms where they tattooed, out to the front of the shop. A large reception desk cordoned everything off from the back so people couldn’t just walk out back and disrupt business. The front of the shop was small, with most of the actions happening in the back. There was a plush couch out front for waiting with a coffee table and magazines. Nearly every inch of wall space was decorated with art, their own and fellow tattoo artists.
The man, if he could be called a man and not a mountain, turned slowly. He wore the trappings of a businessman, crisp pressed black slacks, a blue dress shirt, square toed expensive leather shoes, but Luna sensed right away he was no paper pusher.
Ice blue eyes, deep set into a shadowed brow, were far older than they should have been for a man who looked like he was entering his early thirties. His hair was blonde, the flaxen, wheat coloured kind that glistened when the sun hit it just right. There currently was no sun outside on the cloudy, windy day but Luna knew somehow that it would. The sides were buzzed short and the top was left long. On anyone else dressed that way it might have looked professional but on this guy it looked military or gangster. He looked nothing like the average nine to fiver. For starters, he wouldn’t even fit behind a desk…
He stood a good six and a half feet tall. He was huge. Literally the largest man that Luna could ever remember seeing and she’d tattooed her share of giants. Perhaps his size had more to do with the cold glint in his eyes than his physical demeanour. He seemed too large for the room and she swallowed audibly, immediately nervous and on guard.
This guy was trouble. She didn’t know how she could tell but it was kind of like some sixth sense similar to how some people could tell that her real name wasn’t Luna James. It was actually Stephanie. Only her mother called her that and her mother hardly ever bothered to call. Changing your name was kind of like changing your hair. After more than ten years of doing it, you kind of forgot what the real colour actually was.
“I heard you were looking for a cover up.” She didn’t mince words. Something about this stranger caused her body to react in a brutally visceral fashion that she didn’t appreciate one bit. She didn’t like the heat pooling in her belly or the way her nipples hardened under her black camisole. It was more than just noticing the guy’s appearance. Her body appreciated it. The sooner she turfed this guy, the better.
“Yes. Are you Luna James?”
“Well there are only two of us here. You already met Adrianna.” She wasn’t normally so rude but she didn’t like the way her palms were starting to sweat or the cramped feeling she had in her stomach. Her lungs were starting to compress in as well. Fuck.
“Everyone says you’re the best at what you do. I do need a cover up. I was wondering if you would be willing to do it.”
“I would have to take a look.” Damn it. Tell him to fucking leave. Tell him you’re booked. Tell him that your fucking shop is burning around you. Tell him anything in the world but yes. “What is it exactly that you want covered up?” Instead of eyeing the guy up, Luna’s gaze fell to her hands, which trembled slightly on the top of the large reception desk. One purple rose adorned her left hand and one red topped the right. When she finally glanced up she expected to find his eyes on her but strangely enough he was eyeing the front door as though considering escape.
She found herself wishing he wanted something covered up that involved stripping off a few of those layers of expensive looking clothing. She gave herself a mental shake. Wake the hell up. Guys like him, whether he’s dressed nicely or sporting leather and chains, mean vibrant nights, fumbling interludes and years of regret.
“My back,” he finally said. She was again struck by how powerful, deep and rich his voice was.
“Your back?” Luna realized how breathless she sounded and quickly forced herself to get a grip. She gathered up what little composure she had left. “Yes… well, do you want to show me? I can give you an idea of whether I can do it or not or how long it would take.”
His eyes darted around the shop, storm tossed and frantic like she’d just offered to knife him. Jesus, the guy was cagey. Just another indication that he was trouble, or at the very least, troubled, which was no better. Probably far worse.
“Is there somewhere more private?”
Hmmm. Mr. Modest. He obviously didn’t know how this worked, which meant he was probably a first timer. But no, that didn’t make sense. He wanted a cover up. “Yah.” Luna turned slowly, cautiously, and indicated the private booths at the back. “I have rooms back there where we tattoo. If you come out back with me I can take a look.”
Cue the darting eyes again. She was shocked to realize they held a glimmer of fear. What the hell did he think she was going to do to him back there? Attack him? She nearly laughed at the thought. She was half the guy’s size. If she was stood, shoulder to shoulder, four of her probably wouldn’t be enough to match the girth of his chest.
“Fine,” he agreed slowly.
Luna lifted up the section of counter beside the reception desk that unlocked and let him pass through. She was painfully aware of how he nearly didn’t fit. God, that opening was wide enough to admit three of her holding hands side by side.
She waited, breath baited. Half hoping he would follow her back, half hoping he would turn and walk out that door. Silence filled the shop. A small noise drifted from the back where Adrianna was probably either cleaning equipment or setting up a room for a client due to arrive.
One more pause, a few hard heartbeats, and the man followed her.
CHAPTER 2
The guy trailed behind Luna, down the hall to the first room on the right, without incident or comment. She opened the door and the man stood there, eyes doing that shifty, darting move again. The room was filled with the usual arsenal of inks and stands. The walls were covered with drawings, paintings and past sketches she’d done for clients. A large chair, the kind like you’d see in a dentist office sat in the middle of the room and off to the side was a table, almost like what you’d find at any doctor visit, minus the creepy stirrups at the end of course. The one position she’d never had to ask anyone to get into for a tattoo was spread eagle. Thank god for small mercies.
She finally turned and found that the guy was studying her. He hadn’t stepped foot into the room. He stood there like an impenetrable force. A brick wall? A granite mountain? If he went by a
code name, Luna imagined that would be it. She could just hear him on one of those radios, Granite Mountain, over and out. She nearly grinned before she realized what a crazy fool she’d look like. She composed herself quickly.
“So. If you want to step in and take off your shirt, I can see what we’re working with.”
Though the man’s face remained carefully composed, his eyes changed. They took on a wild look, where the whites nearly ate his irises. Finally he seemed to give himself a mental kick in the ass and decided the only way to go through this was to shed that damn shirt of his and expose whatever was underneath to her prying eyes.
How bad could it be? Something sure as hell wasn’t right about any of this.
Whatever battle he was fighting, he clearly decided that the cover up must be worth it. Hands the size of hams came up to his shirt, chest high. They fumbled with the buttons, struggling to undo them. Finally, after an eternity of tense breathing and even heavier anticipation, he shrugged out of the shirt and whirled, all in a motion so graceful, Luna almost couldn’t believe it had happened at all.
Holy Hannah. If backs could be gorgeous or even sexy as hell, his certainly was.
The taut, rippling muscle under that layer of bronze, silky looking skin were tense, strained even. His was not the muscle of a body builder or someone who pumped iron and steroids. No, his muscles were streamlined and beautiful. She was willing to bet that wherever the guy worked out it wasn’t at the friendly neighborhood gym.
Seeing him half naked, all animal male did something to Luna’s body. She reacted with raw, powerful lust to seeing all that latent power simmering just below the surface. The man looked dangerous and not just because of his size.
Marring a surface that would have been utterly glorious, was a hideous tattoo. It took up most of his back, starting just below his shoulder blades and ending right before the swells of his hips. There were scars too, short ones, long ridges, rounded circles, jagged lines. The tattoo made no sense. It didn’t have any graceful lines or flowing rhythm. It was just… figures, slapped on. What looked to be a wolf’s head crested his shoulder blades. Beside that was a sick looking grim reaper holding a scythe. At least, that’s what she guessed it was, but only because that blade in hand was a dead giveaway. The lion head below that was larger, taking up most of the back, or at least, what was left. It too looked half carved in, as though whoever had done the work meant actual harm, not art. Clearly they’d wanted that ink to stick.
