He mentally took a step back, wondering if he had misjudged the situation. Then he made the mistake of looking at her again. Sparks of blue fire snapped out at him from those big puppy-dog eyes. Her chest rose and fell as she fought her anger. His body urged him to lower his head, to kiss her and capture her mouth with his, to draw some of that passion into his long-dormant soul.
A breeze whipped around the parking lot. She shivered and her nipples beaded beneath the silk of her blouse. As much as he wanted to be the one to warm her, he stepped back.
“You’re cold.”
“Because you dragged me out here without giving me the time to put my coat on, asshole.”
Unable to argue her point, he took the jacket she clutched in one hand and held it open.
Her anger didn’t disappear precisely but it was joined by questioning bemusement as she slid her arms into the sleeves. “Thank you. I’m still ticked off with you, you know.”
Placing his hands gently on her shoulders, he turned her to face him. “Same goes. You need to be more careful about who you trust. There are some nasty types out there who will gobble a pretty girl like you up for a snack.”
He couldn’t resist playing with her collar as a way to cover his need to touch her hair. To touch her.
Her expression softened. “I know about the nasty types, Troy. I have to file the reports that agents submit, as well as sit in on the initial meetings with clients, which means I know exactly why they require bodyguards. I also volunteer with the Safe and Sound program. I’ve seen what those women have experienced before they made it to the shelter.”
When she shook her head, her hair brushed the back of his hand in a soft caress.
All his protective instincts bristled that she could be put in danger from one of those abusers. “Tell me no one’s been harassing you from there. None of the husbands who think it’s easier to blame you than himself.”
Her eyes closed briefly and a soft huff of exasperation escaped between her lush lips. “I’m fine. And stop trying to distract me about how you interfered back there. I’m still mad at you.”
Smart girl. He caught a strand of hair and rubbed it between his fingers. “He wasn’t your type.”
“And you are?”
Not hardly. “No. I’m the big bad wolf. That’s why you need to trust me that he wasn’t right for you.”
“What big eyes you have, Grandma?” Her lips compressed though the corners twitched as if she were trying not to smile. Then she tilted her head until her ear touched his thumb and the ground slid from beneath him. Why was it so hard to breathe from such a simple touch?
He gave in to impulse and lowered his head. Her eyes widened briefly, then they closed as he took the kiss he’d dreamed of for so long.
She tasted of strawberries and sugar. And everything good that must be found in heaven. Heaven became even more attainable when she slid her hands beneath his coat, around his waist and flattened them over his back, pulling him closer. He sank deeper into the kiss, her innocence a benediction, a cleansing of all his sins.
The Honda parked beside his SUV beeped and its headlights flashed, breaking the trance he’d fallen into. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever been so reluctant to break off a kiss, but he forced himself to lift his head. To step back.
As the owner of the Honda cleared his throat and gestured to the door Troy was blocking, he took Sandy’s hand and led her to the front of the car. She didn’t say a word as she followed, but the look of complete trust she gave him wracked him with both guilt and desire. Her tongue darted out to moisten lips swollen from his kiss. In what seemed to be an unconscious gesture, she touched a hand to smooth the hair he’d managed to further tousle. Is this what she’d look like waking up beside him?
Stop it. She’d run screaming if she knew you killed an unarmed man this morning.
He’s handsome, hot, hunted and hurt…a plea for help from this detective is one her heart can’t refuse.
Stowaway
© 2011 Becky Barker
Keri Merritt desperately needs her long-overdue vacation, preferably as far as she can get from anyone with a badge. It’s not that she doesn’t respect those modern knights, but between her job as a trauma nurse and her overprotective law enforcement family, she’s overrun.
When she finds something in the back of her truck she definitely didn’t pack, all hope of a peaceful break from reality burns away in the heat of a dark, fevered gaze. Behind those chocolate eyes lies everything she wants to avoid.
Nick Lamanto is in trouble. He’s tracked the mastermind of a gunrunning operation from Florida to Tennessee, only to wind up with an attempted murder warrant hanging over his head, a bullet in his arm and no one he can trust. Except the sheriff’s petite, strong-willed daughter, whose jittery finger is on the trigger of the .45 pointed between his eyes.
Lucky for Nick, Keri’s healing instinct kicks in. And so does a powerful attraction sharper than the needle with which she stitches him. As the threads of his investigation connect with unanswered questions about Keri’s past, keeping her safe matters more to him than his next breath. Even if it’s his last…
Warning: If you have a weakness for dark-haired, dark-eyed law enforcement officers with strong protective instincts, prepare to lose your heart.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Stowaway:
Keri stared at the metal shackles in stunned fascination. Her dad stored them in the first-aid kit too, but she’d never imagined them being used on her. After a split second of hesitation, she began to struggle, but Lamanto had anticipated the reaction. He swiftly pulled her left arm behind her back, jerking her body full force against the strength of his own. Her breath hitched at his closeness.
He should be as weak as a kitten, yet the steel of his muscles swiftly squashed any desire for a physical skirmish. She just wasn’t sure enough she’d win. She abruptly stopped struggling, tilted her head and glared at him.
“You have a great way of showing your appreciation for my help,” she snapped. “I should have held you at gunpoint until my dad could come get you.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “You should have.”
Keri clenched her teeth in frustration. Another damned man who thought he knew what was best for her.
She glared harder, and he returned her gaze with a steady, unblinking stare. Their hearts pounded frantically in their chests, beating against each other with tension heightened by the strength and heat of his body.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he swore softly, never losing eye contact. “But I’m not going to let you turn me in, either.”
“I don’t suppose my word is good enough to get this handcuff off?” she tried.
“No.” His tone brooked no argument, but his mouth curved in a rakish smile. A glimmer of amusement lit his fevered eyes. Even in their not-too-amiable situation, he oozed charm. He enjoyed provoking her.
Keri’s heart tripped again. Damn but the man was handsome. A woman would have to be dead not to appreciate his aesthetic beauty. Up close, she noticed the ebony hair of his eyebrows had the slightest tendency to curl. Deep laughter lines slit the corners of his eyes and softer grooves at his mouth. His mouth was wide, with sensuously full, firm lips. His skin dark and smooth, pulling tight across high cheekbones.
She stared into his eyes, watching his gaze drop to her lips. His eyelids dropped too, dark lashes sweeping downward. Her pulse fluttered with unexpected and unwelcome excitement. She felt the metal of her father’s gun gently pressing against her back, but she felt no fear. In a blink of his fascinating eyes, their battle of wills had become a battle of the sexes.
The air between them electrified, sizzling her nerves. The throbbing of her own pulse nearly deafened her. Keri struggled to shrug off the heavy lethargy invading her body.
Please, no, she mentally begged the gods of desirability. Please don’t let this be the fiercest physical attraction she’d experienced in her whole life. Please make her quaking nerves a
nd erratic pulse a result of exhaustion or frustration. She would not accept an attraction for this man.
“You feel good,” he murmured as though surprised by the revelation. “And you smell good too.”
The arm holding her tightened fractionally. He didn’t hurt her, yet he threatened Keri’s composure. Her breathing faltered and her breasts swelled against the solid wall of his chest.
She frantically searched her tired brain for a rational explanation. The fruitless search caused an unreasonable spurt of panic in its wake. Defensive and feeling desperate, she pressed her free hand against his chest and shoved.
His low groan reminded her of his wound. Even as she stepped out of his embrace, her gaze searched his face and shoulder to see if she’d done any damage.
“Sorry,” she whispered, genuinely stricken to have caused him more pain.
Lamanto gave her a weak smile but kept a firm hold on the cuffs that made her his prisoner.
“No problem. Women always lose their heads when they’re in my arms.”
The comment didn’t sound like a boast as much as a statement of fact. He might have said it jokingly, but her expression hardened.
“Now what?” she grumbled. “I’m going on thirty hours with no sleep, and I’d guess you haven’t had much, either. We should both be in bed.”
The unwarranted but undeniably seductive gleam in his eyes added to her annoyance. Her frown deepened, and she tugged on the handcuffs to display impatience.
“These are totally unnecessary.”
He ignored her grousing. “I need a shower and food.”
“You can’t get those stitches wet.”
“I’ll take a bath.”
“You’re nuts.”
“I’m filthy.”
“All right, take a bath,” grumbled Keri, “but let me get some sleep.”
He looked beyond her toward the bed. “I wish the bed had a metal frame so I could fasten you to the headboard or something.”
“I don’t need to be shackled to the bed. My car’s out of gas, the radio’s disabled and I’m too damn tired to go anywhere on foot.”
He gave her a reproachful glance and gently urged her toward the dresser. “Any clothes I can borrow?”
Her dad and brother kept clothes at the cabin. They were taller men, but she supposed something would fit him. “Jack’s sweats will probably work.”
“How ’bout some clean underwear?”
“If you’ll take this stupid thing off my arm, I’ll check the drawers,” she retorted, tugging at the metal cuff.
He gave her a wry grin for her efforts but ignored her plea. They had a momentary battle of wills. He didn’t flinch. With a deep sigh, she twisted around and opened drawers, collecting socks, briefs, gray sweat pants and an old red flannel shirt. She turned to him again, her expression challenging him.
“Now the bathroom,” he said.
She led the way into the small space. It barely had room for two people, but he shifted so she could sit on the toilet seat. Then he reached for the towel rack and gave it a jerk. When it proved sturdy, he clicked the other handcuff around the bar, effectively chaining her in the room.
Keri’s mood grew grimmer by the minute and her expression displayed her rising temper. He gave her another half smile and placed the gun on a rack in the shower. Then he began the slow process of filling the tub and stripping.
The sexual tension steadily increased as did the steam enveloping them. Keri tried to maintain her composure, but it started disintegrating when he unfastened his belt and slid down his zipper. The sound rasped along already frayed nerves.
“You can close your eyes if you’re shy,” he said. Despite the feverish sheen to his eyes, the dark orbs taunted her.
“I’m a nurse. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen a thousand times,” she retorted even though she felt the sting of hot color rising in her cheeks.
“Humor me. I’m modest.”
Keri seriously doubted it, but she turned her back as much as the limited space allowed. She heard a muffled groan as he struggled out of his jeans. Every movement had to be hurting him. Then she heard jeans and belt hit the floor followed by the sound of him stepping into the tub.
“Draw the curtain.” She couldn’t reach it from her tethered position, but she could see his movements in her peripheral vision.
“I’d rather keep you in sight,” he replied, shutting off the tap. Next he sank into the water and emitted a deep, heavy sigh.
The sound skittered along her nerves, creating unappreciated and unwelcome havoc on them. She couldn’t fully see him, yet she felt his every move. Instead of heeding her stern warning to ignore him, her weary mind recorded every little sound he made as he bathed.
The spicy smell of soap teased her senses as it filled the moisture-laden air. Her imagination conjured images of rich, white lather coating the dark curls on his chest. She could visualize the trickle of water down his hard stomach and into forbidden territory.
Putting an abrupt halt to the uninhibited imaginings, she silently cursed the unexpected curiosity. Her patient deserved respect even if he held the top spot on her personal shit-list right now. She needed to summon professional indifference and halt the increasing sexual awareness. Think professional decorum, she told herself, repeating the mantra for the next few minutes. Professionalism. Professionalism. Professionalism.
When Lamanto went quiet for too long, she risked another glance in is direction. She peeked but immediately regretted the action. His sleek, wet body reclined the full length of the tub. The water didn’t hide an inch of male perfection. The image would stay in her mind for a very long time. More heat suffused her body.
“Don’t fall asleep.” Her voice held a snap to camouflage a sensory overload.
Another deep sigh acknowledged her warning. Then she heard the water being drained and some awkward movements as he tried to pull himself upright. A low curse had her reacting reflexively.
“Be careful,” she said, turning fully toward him.
The sight of him smacked her again and with staggering force. His hard, lean body stole her breath. No way could she ignore the masculine beauty of his glistening nudity.
She mentally catalogued every inch of him from the damp, curling hair on his head, down the broad, muscled chest and flat stomach to his hard thighs and another patch of thick, curly hair.
Her intense, intimate perusal brought a swift reaction from his very male anatomy. She swallowed hard to keep from strangling on the gasp at the back of her throat.
“I’m wounded, not dead,” he grumbled, jerking a towel across his abdomen to cover his growing erection.
Hot Ride
Kelly Jamieson
Courage is feeling the fear…then pouring on the throttle.
Abandoned or betrayed by everyone she ever loved, Sera Manning’s life spiraled out of control until a near-death experience left her with a mission. Now a DEA agent, her sole focus—and her first undercover assignment—is to take down a drug cartel that’s manufacturing seductive, deadly angel sugar.
To do it, she needs access to Operation Black Abyss to establish a connection between the cartel and the Death Angels outlaw motorcycle gang. Which means she must pose as a couple with another agent who’s already deep undercover.
ATF agent Ryan Thomas desperately needs a female agent to maintain his cover in the gang, but the last thing he wants is a rookie agent jeopardizing his op. Especially one who is a sexy reminder why it’s a bad idea to get involved while on a case.
Living together, surrounded by crime, pretending their sizzling sexual tension is just for show is getting harder by the day. But as the mission comes to a head, the two fiercely independent warriors must decide which fear is worse. Losing their quarry…or losing each other.
Warning: Features a badass biker hero and kickass heroine who go at it undercover—and under the covers.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
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Hot Ride
Copyright © 2012 by Kelly Jamieson
ISBN: 978-1-61921-123-0
Edited by Sue Ellen Gower
Cover by Angela Waters
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: September 2012
www.samhainpublishing.com
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