Hannah rested her brow against Brannon’s. “Wow. We’re really doing this.”
“Damn straight. You said yes. You can’t back out now.”
She laughed and then, grinning, she shot Neve a look. “Maybe we should have a double wedding.”
“Ohhhh…” Neve started to grin.
“Hell, no,” Brannon said. He glared at Ian. “The man already stole my thunder, popping the question when I had everything planned for this.”
“Nobody could ever steal your thunder, baby.” Hannah curled an arm around his neck and relaxed against his chest.
Around them, conversation started to rise and fall, but they were caught up in their own little world.
Brannon placed his hand on her belly just as the baby kicked.
He jumped, looking up at her.
She guided his hand back, held it in place.
“I think she approves,” Hannah said softly.
“That’s good. Because I don’t plan on going anywhere.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to Jim at Turtle Run Winery in Corydon, Indiana. Another thank you to my son, who we shall call Music Man. I needed help on cars and he’s becoming something of a car guru when he isn’t learning how to play the guitar.
Read on for an excerpt from the next book by
SHILOH WALKER
The Right Kind of Trouble
Coming soon from St. Martin’s Paperbacks
Gideon cupped her chin, lifting her face to his.
She swallowed and the pull of his eyes was so intoxicating, she almost forgot to notice the pain in her throat.
“Don’t cry.” He moved in closer, hips angling in slightly, shoulders rounding as he drew nearer to her. She felt surrounded by him, but it wasn’t enough. “Please don’t cry. You gut me when you do. You know that.”
Shaking her head, she reached for his waist, kneading the taut muscle there. She didn’t know if she was telling him she wasn’t going to cry or what. But the tears continued to burn and she wanted nothing more than to curl herself around him and cling tight.
If she clung to him tight enough, he could never leave. The scent of him started to go to her head, the rasp of his fingers sending shivers through her as he slid one hand around her neck to stroke her skin.
She caught one wrist in her hand, bringing his hand to her cheek.
Gideon had gone rigid and he didn’t move at all when she pressed her mouth to his palm.
She didn’t let it stop her.
She’d known he hadn’t brought her up here with any intention other than to make her rest. Gideon, ever her protector.
She didn’t want protection, though. She just wanted him. She wanted what she’d been throwing away all these years and she wanted him back for always. After she’d pressed a kiss to his palm, she nudged him back. His eyes glittered, his cheekbones standing out in stark relief against his deeply tanned skin. He was all hollows and angles and long lean lines. He’d always been able to stop her breath and the rugged masculinity of him had become even more refined over the past few years.
She caught his face and tugged.
He resisted for a minute and she was almost certain he’d pulled away.
So she rose onto her toes and pressed her lips to his chin, slid them down. When she got to his neck, his head fell to the side—slightly. It was enough. His skin was salty and warm and she could have happily spent the next few hours doing nothing but learning the taste of him all over again. She found the rapid beat of his pulse with her tongue—then her teeth.
“Fuck!” Gideon’s snarl was vicious and he tangled his hand in her hair.
She found herself trapped in the next moment, between his long, rangy body and nearest column of her poster bed. Her breath stuttered out of her as he boosted her up, shoving his hips into the cradle of hers. “Don’t,” he said, his breath coming out in ragged pants. His eyes burned as he stared at her. “You aren’t jerking me around like this again, Moira. If you don’t mean this … if you…”
He stopped and looked away and she saw his jaw clenching, his Adam’s apple bobbing. The emotion coming out of him battered at her and she wanted to draw him close, stroke away all the misery. But she’d caused this. She’d done this. Could she even begin to fix all the pain she’d brought him?
“If you’re just going to walk away again, Moira … don’t.”
He put her down and started to pace. Moira wanted to go to him, but what was she supposed to do? Pantomime what she was feeling? She’d already tried to show him and that wasn’t working.
A muttered curse caught her ears and she looked up just as he spun to face her, rage written all over his normally calm features. “You’re killing me inside, okay? You’re…”
Then he stopped, his cheeks puffing out as he blew out a slow breath. He drew in a deeper, slower one, holding it for a few seconds. She opened her mouth, but he lifted a hand.
He wasn’t asking her, though. The question was directed inward.
“Look, you can’t even talk,” he said, still not facing her. “You can’t explain what’s going on and I can’t see inside your head. I don’t know what you want—”
She reached for the buttons on her shirt. He’d never leave without looking back at her one last time.
She didn’t think.
But then again, she’d messed up something awful.
Maybe this wasn’t the right way to tell him, but there were a hundred wrong ways to let him leave. And that was without trying again. Without reaching out, the way he’d done a hundred times.
She shrugged out of her shirt while he was still standing there. Her bra fell away next.
“When you’re feeling better, we’ll have to talk any … Moira.”
She looked at him through the fringe of her hair. He’d turned around.
She found no pleasure in knowing she’d been right. She was manipulating him and she hated herself, but if this would keep him here, with her, a little longer, until she could convince him she was tired of running, tired of pushing him away?
Then she was going for it.
When she reached for the button of her jeans, her fingers shook.
Gideon was staring at her, his chest rising and falling in a harsh rhythm. She thought maybe that if she reached out just then, he might have turned and walked out. So she just pushed her jeans down her thighs, along with her panties.
Naked now, she stood there waiting. She figured this was best. If he turned around rejected her while she was naked, vulnerable, maybe it would even the scales.
The old wooden boards of the floor creaked a little as he took one step, then another toward her. She licked her lips, hardly daring to breathe.
“And what about tomorrow, Mac?” he asked. “You going to push me away … again?”
She saw the answer he thought to be true in his eyes.
Slowly, she shook her head.
“Mac?”
She held out her hand.
For the longest time, he didn’t move.
Then he did—toward her.
In the time it took for her to take a deep breath—whether it was to blow out in relief or to brace herself, she didn’t know—Gideon had hauled her up against him and she found herself pressed against the wall.
She went to kiss his neck, but he tangled a hand in her hair and yanked, forcing her gaze to meet his. So she stood there, trembling and barely able to think past the want while he tore at the zipper of his jeans.
He let go of her hair but only so he could pick her up and brace her against the wall at her back. A moment later, he came inside her, hard and forceful and the screams trapped inside her lungs seemed to explode throughout her entire body instead. She could feel that scream—it had a taste, a rhythm, a need all its own and it belonged solely to the man who held her pinned to the wall.
ALSO BY SHILOH WALKER
Headed for Trouble
SECRETS & SHADOWS SERIES
Deeper Than Need
Sweeter
Than Sin
Darker Than Desire
SECRETS & SHADOWS E-NOVELLAS
Burn For Me
Break For Me
Long For Me
Available from St. Martin’s Press
PRAISE FOR SHILOH WALKER
and her sizzling novels…
“Shiloh Walker has an addictive writing style that draws you into her characters’ emotional pathways and lets you feel with them what they are experiencing. Romance and taut suspense go hand in hand…”
—Smexy Books
“A hero who will steal your heart.”
—Nalini Singh, New York Times bestselling author
“Do yourself a favor. Read this book…”
—Patricia Briggs, New York Times bestselling author
“Shiloh has a unique way of drawing you in, making you feel like you are right there with the characters.”
—Harlequin Junkie
“[Shiloh] writes well-defined characters, great storylines, and most importantly—great smut.”
—The Book Vixen
“Her writing just gets better and better … her plots twist in very interesting ways, never giving fans the feeling that they’ve read this one before. The sex is sizzling, but never intrudes on the plot.”
—RT Book Reviews
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Shiloh Walker has been writing since she was a kid. She loves reading and writing anything paranormal, anything fantasy, and nearly every kind of romance. Once upon a time she worked as a nurse, but now she writes full time and lives with her family in the Midwest. She has authored dozens of works of romantic suspense, contemporary and paranormal romance, and urban fantasy under the name J.C. Daniels. Visit her on the Web at www.shilohwalker.com to learn more. Or sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
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
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Acknowledgments
The Right Kind of Trouble Teaser
Also by Shiloh Walker
PRAISE FOR SHILOH WALKER
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
THE TROUBLE WITH TEMPTATION
Copyright © 2016 by Shiloh Walker.
Excerpt from The Right Kind of Trouble copyright © 2016 by Shiloh Walker.
All rights reserved.
For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
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eISBN: 978-1-4668-7668-2
St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / May 2016
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
The Trouble with Temptation Page 32