After her husband trades his family to tango with double-Ds, Lauren Collins decides her dogs are better judges of character. She’s unaware how far her soon-to-be-ex’s web of deceit reaches—until the only thing between her, her sons and a killer is a wounded Delta soldier who activates her sorely neglected X-chromosome like nobody’s business.
Their instant attraction is kryptonite to Jack’s injury-dulled edge. Thrust into a world of peril, political treachery and treason, Lauren has no choice but to trust Jack with her life. Even if she and her sons survive, she’s not sure her heart will…
Warning: Contains a warrior who doesn’t hesitate to lay his body on the line, more than one emotional love story to tug at your heart, and chaos at Chuck E. Cheese.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Collateral Damage:
“Come in to the bathroom and let me clean you up, then we both can relax,” she said past the emotion clogging her throat. What almost happened was still too fresh in her mind for her to be anything but overwhelmed.
“I can do it.” He stood, coming so close to her that she had to take a step back. His nostrils flared as he inhaled sharply. He searched her gaze for a moment as if trying to assess her mood.
“So can I, and right now I need to make sure you’re all right more than you need to be Mr. Invincible.” She marched to the bathroom and pointed to the closed commode, determined to ignore the effects of his close proximity on her senses. “Sit.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up as he sat. “What’s next? The Terminator?”
“Sponge Bob Square Pants,” she said briskly as she turned on the water.
He snorted and winced. “Can we stick with Superman?”
“Depends on how cooperative you are, Dudley Do Right.” More like Studly Do Right.
He laughed, then groaned. “Okay. You win. Just don’t make me laugh again. No more torture.”
She opened the first-aid kit and he reached for the Ibuprofen, downing a handful of them before pulling off his stained T-shirt. The bathroom shrank to the size of a pea pod, a very warm pea pod. And the torture had just begun because ignoring him and the effect of his chiseled in stone physique became impossible. His every muscle was perfectly defined, supple and vibrant with life. Thank God for that.
This man had put his life on the line for their country numerous times. And he’d put everything on the line for her without question.
Taking the wash cloth, she gently cleansed away the dried blood then dabbed some antibiotic ointment to his wound and left it open to air at his insistence. She turned her attention to cleaning his neck and chest as well, lingering more than she had a right to, but unable to stop herself from relishing every touch. A touch he was clearly far from indifferent to, a reaction that filled her even more with want, with need, with excitement. He seemingly watched her every move with his heated gaze, but then she swore he’d stared at her mouth, her breasts, her sex so long that it was a wonder she didn’t burst into flames.
She surprised herself on how quickly she finished, then again, he had a way of warping her perception of time. It could have been five minutes, it could have been fifty, whatever it was, it wasn’t enough. She wanted more of him, needed to give more to him in so many ways.
That bullet had shot to hell any barriers or pretensions, leaving a raw need that only he could fill. She slid her palm against his hard-edged jaw and eased his gaze up to hers. His skin had become burning hot, his pulse raced beneath her finger tips, and his respirations had quickened considerably. “Are you sure you don’t need the hospital?”
“The hospital is the last thing I need right now.” His voice was like sandpaper, made her feel raw, vulnerable and that much more needy. He placed his hand against her hers and turned to brush his lips to the inside of her wrist. The simmering desire between them flared white hot and burned a path all the way to her core. She shivered with excitement. The connection between them was one that only a near-death incident could forge.
Her mouth went dry and she searched hard for the right thing to say to him. Her heart was so full, her need so great. She met his gaze. “I don’t know that I’ve thanked you enough. For being there yesterday. Today. For keeping my sons safe. For keeping me alive.”
He started to shake his head and she stopped him. “Let me finish. I want to thank you for what you’ve done every day, for the years that you’ve been there doing what has to be done so I can live the life I live. It means more than I can express or ever repay.”
He exhaled. “Lauren, sometimes it’s a job, sometimes it’s more than that. It’s everything I believe. But right now it sure as hell isn’t—”
She pressed her finger to his lips, halting his words. “That being said, I want you to know this has nothing whatsoever to do with gratitude and everything to do with what’s in my heart.” She planted her mouth on his, ready to start this kiss where their kiss last night had ended.
She can save him…or bring him to ultimate ruin.
A Tarnished Heart
© 2010 Leslie Dicken
The Earl of Markham’s life is unraveling before his eyes. The harder he tries to pick up the frayed ends, the quicker his carefully guarded control slips from his iron grasp. Five years after the death of his wife, the threat of blackmail hangs over his son’s inheritance.
His only hope to quell the gossip before it begins lies in a headstrong young commoner as wild and free as the English countryside she loves. She is wrong for him in every way. Yet she brings life to his colorless world—and warms his heart with a fire that threatens to shatter the wall around his heart.
Lizzie Parker is content with her garden, her village and caring for her aging father. She wants no part of the glittering London Season, but her father will not be denied his wish to see to her future. Still, she plans to do everything in her power to vex the man charged with taking her away from her beloved home. The man who once broke her heart. Markham.
She never expected his kisses to tame her resistance. With each touch he rouses her senses, until suddenly she’s not at all sure where she belongs…
Warning: Blackmail! (oh my) Secrets! (oh my) Love Scenes! (oh oh my) and even a trip to the magnificent Crystal Palace in London. You won't be able to put this one down.
Enjoy the following excerpt for A Tarnished Heart:
Lizzie picked up her pace, biting back hot tears.
“Miss Parker! Come back here.”
Instead she lifted her chin and continued.
Markham’s now familiar growl echoed behind her.
“Lizzie! Wait for me,” Edmund called.
But she wasn’t going to slow down for him, either. Home. It was all she ever wanted. What a fool she’d been to venture into the village when she could be spending every moment with her father.
Clopping horses approached, then the animals reared to a noisy stop and the door swung open beside her. Before she could react, Markham climbed down the steps and lifted her like a sack of feathers.
“Put me down, you boar.”
Edmund yelled for her, but it mattered little against a man the size of Markham.
Her captor dropped her onto the seat cushion, yanked the door closed, and rapped on the wall. Within seconds, the vehicle sprang forward. The dowager wasn’t there.
“How dare you? You think because there is no chaperone you can carry me off like a barbarian?” Her pulse leaped at her throat, an anxious pacing tiger trapped within a cage.
Markham settled into the seat opposite her, his black hair in disarray like a horse’s mane. “It is time to return to London.” The blasted man was not even out of breath.
“But I’ve not spent enough time with my father.”
His dark stare glinted with restrained emotions. “It is not my fault you chose to squander your time, Miss Parker.”
“Squander my time.” The nerve of him. “And that gives you the right to lift me off the ground and kidnap me?”
“You were being stubborn, as usual.”
<
br /> Oh, that man and his bloody self-importance. “I’ll show you stubborn.”
She reached for the door handle but Markham’s powerful fingers clamped down on her wrist. Without letting go, he moved onto her side, pushing her away from the door.
“I won’t have you leaping out.” The words tickled down her spine, spiked awareness deep in her core. Her breasts ached, nipples tightened.
His spicy, foreign scent washed over her in a conquering wave of dizziness.
“Let me go.”
Markham leaned closer, his penetrating eyes halting her resistance. Her breath stilled as those perfectly formed lips hovered just inches from her face. She could see every nuance of his skin, every fine line around his eyes. “Apparently, you don’t know with whom you are dealing.”
Her eyes narrowed, a flush racing up her neck. “But I do know…a rude, boorish, self-absorbed peer who thinks he can manipulate people however he pleases.”
He showed no reaction, damn him. “And you are a foolish country girl who has no gratitude for the opportunities she’s been given.”
“Opportunities. What do you know of my dreams?”
“Oh, I know of your dreams but I can’t tolerate thinking of you with him.”
Markham’s jaw snapped shut. His gaze shuttered from surprise to detached to unreadable so quickly Lizzie barely had time to recognize their meanings. Had he not meant to say that out loud? Could it be possible that Markham harbored some feeling for her?
She squeezed her eyes closed but the last sight of his kissable lips lingered in her vision. If only he would move off her. How could she think of Edmund, remain true to him, if this man drove her to such stretches of distraction—or such ranges of passion?
The weight on the cushion shifted, causing the seat to squeak. A terrible sense of emptiness filled her as she expected him to move away. But his scent drew nearer to saturate her senses, his one hand held firm to her arm. Despite the loud rumbling wheels, his breathing echoed in her ears.
Then his warm fingers brushed her cheek and no sound could penetrate the thundering of her heart.
Markham swallowed, certain she could hear his pulse hammering.
Passion flared in his veins. Jealousy, anger, desire careened and shattered within his blood, like a small boat upon a raging river. His flesh throbbed for her, his heart drummed.
If seeing her in the arms of Edmund Greene wasn’t enough to begin his quest for her heart, having her slender body beneath him was. And, yet, if his damn stepmother hadn’t insisted on calling upon friends this morning, she’d be here. Her presence would keep his wayward urges in check.
But she wasn’t here. Not yet. And Markham couldn’t help but sweep his gaze down the length of her. The rapid rise and fall of her breasts brought his erection to full attention.
A faint scent of roses hovered, intoxicating him, pulling him under a spell of hazy lust.
Markham lifted one of her vibrant curls and wrapped it around a finger. He envisioned the strand wet, drops of water slipping down his skin. He licked his lips, but then dropped the curl as if it would burn him.
He’d make this girl fall in love with him. He wouldn’t fail his father. He’d not allow his heritage to vanish or for Lucas to live in shame. She aroused him in ways he’d never imagined, piqued his curiosities, enlightened his mind and enraged his passions.
Markham released the grip on her wrist and cupped her face with both hands. Before they even reached Oxford, Miss Parker would be under his spell.
Her vivid green eyes burst open. “No.”
Markham searched for shadows in her gaze, those secrets that kept him at bay. But anticipation and yearning overpowered her resolution. She revealed herself too easily. Despite any resistance, this fairy craved his touch.
“No, what, Miss Parker?”
Her pink tongue ran along the inside of her lips, moistening them, tempting him. “Whatever it is you’re about to do. Don’t.”
He lifted her chin. “Are you so sure about that?”
“No…yes.”
“It seems you are uncertain.”
“You can’t…you can’t do this to me.”
“Do what? Kiss you? Do you really wish me to stop?” Markham brushed his thumb across her lips. Her protests silenced as her eyes drifted closed again as if commanded by his touch.
Her lips parted. “Please…”
Her warm breath invited him to lower his mouth to hers. He kissed her lips delicately, tasted her sweetness, swallowed her sighs.
A surrendering whimper escaped from her throat.
Intensity exploded. Swells of need crashed against his skin, into his scorching arousal, even within his very bones. He slid his way inside her mouth, searching for the velvety smoothness of her tongue. She tasted like honey and hyacinth and all that reminded him of the countryside.
Her fingertips brushed his shoulders. The devil. He wanted her to touch him. Touch him everywhere with those tiny hands, graceful as a butterfly’s wings.
He ravaged her mouth, drank in her spirit, indulged his desires. She responded with an equal hunger, her tongue stroking his, her back arching. Shudders wracked through him, his nipples puckered.
Markham trailed his lips down her neck, where her heartbeat leaped against his tongue. His hands itched to capture her breasts, knead them with his fingers.
His erection throbbed, desperate for the heat of her body, or even the touch of her tiny hands.
His craving for this tempting pixie bewildered him, and yet he could think of nothing he wanted more. If only he could push her down onto this cushion and remove every piece of clothing, every barrier between his skin and hers. He could thrust himself deep inside and find heaven.
But heaven must wait. He could not take her body, discover her secrets, until he’d secured her heart.
Markham wrenched himself from the nectar in his grasp. He let her go so suddenly that she slumped against the seat, eyes opening in surprise. Stark vulnerability contrasted against the bright flush of her cheeks. Devil, she may have let him continue. And then he would be the very rake he so despised.
Without a word, he slid across to the other side. He waited for her sharp tongue, for the assault. But she only said, “Have-have you retrieved my items from my father?” The words trembled.
He nodded, unable to trust his own voice.
She stared at him. “Why, Markham? Why did you kiss me when you despise me so?”
He said nothing. He could not tell her that he feared her heart would remain locked away for the curate, when the stinging ache to have her dulled his reason. Nor could he say that to protect his son’s future, she must fall in love with him. He could not give her the answers she sought.
Right now, he could give her nothing.
They stared at one another until rain beat a steady rhythm on the roof. Soon, Markham could see the familiar shadows darkening her eyes. Then, she bit her lower lip and finally turned away.
When the dowager joined them only a short time later, Miss Parker’s silence turned into the light, even breaths of sleep.
Love takes no prisoners.
Tiger Eyes
© 2010 Kimberly Nee
Captain Gabriella Markham is accustomed to standing on the deck of her ship, wind in her face. Not rotting in a dank hold on an enemy’s ship. There’s only one thing on her mind: revenge on the pirate responsible. Until she realizes the seriously injured man sharing the darkness is Captain Diego Cruz, the man she almost married.
When Diego opens his eyes, he finds himself twice cursed. Not only was he attacked and taken, he’s marooned on an island with the woman who betrayed him five years earlier. Even worse, the fire between them still burns. And the faster he heals, the harder she is to resist.
Desperation cracks their resolve. Passion consumes them, but it only reopens the wounds of the past. Survival is only the first step in a quest to find out who hired another pirate to see them dead—and why. Only then will they learn if their hear
ts will survive on the fragile strand of trust that still hangs between them…
Warning: This book may lead to fantasies involving deserted islands, passionate affairs, and a belief in true love.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Tiger Eyes:
It was a calm night, with a gentle wind blowing in from the east. The warm air wrapped about Gabby like a tender embrace, and she sighed as she leaned against the quarterdeck railing. The island was still visible, though about the size of her fist, and as twilight stretched across the sky, it wouldn’t be long before it was merely a darker mass in a sea of darkness.
After they came aboard the Serena, Gabby was shown to a small cabin, and the order was given for water to be heated. She soaked until the water grew too cool for comfort, and took an oddly great delight in scrubbing both her hair and her body.
Since they were very nearly the same height, with the same rather deceptively slender build, Fiona offered Gabby a gown, though she didn’t seem particularly pleased about it. Still, Gabby thanked her anyway, and when she finished her bath, slipped into the clean garment, wanting to cry from the sleek softness of it, and the delicious perfume of clean fabric wafting down over her head. Though she normally shied away from such feminine garments, she reveled in this one now.
Footfalls sounded behind her and she turned to see Diego coming toward her. Gone were the straggly beard and unkempt moustache. Though he was clean-shaven, he radiated the same feral air as he did on the island, and her heart quickened at the sight of him. He still limped, but his black breeches were neither stained nor torn, and his white shirt was almost blinding in its cleanliness.
His sleeve brushed her bare arm, reminding her of her ladylike apparel. She was most unaccustomed to gauzy gowns, as she lived in breeches and tunics like her men. Her hair, free of tangles and snarls, had been tamed into a fall of loose dark curls that brushed her shoulders and danced on the breeze.
Midnight Secrets Page 32
