by Leah Braemel
“Don’t you mean, the soon-to-be Mrs. McPherson?” Her voice raised in question on his last name.
“I like the sounds of that.” Much better than Fitzgerald.
She leaned back and cocked her head to consider him, a devilish glint in her eye that had him bracing.
“Then let’s get you to bed, Mr. McPherson.” She pulled away and picked up his crutches.
“Not sure my leg’s up to much in the way of gymnastics at the moment, sunshine.” Not that it stopped him from following her into the bedroom.
The grin she shot him both filled his chest with love and his groin with expectation. “Figures you’d wimp out on me because of one little bullet wound.” Her smile faded. She walked back to him and rested her head against his chest. “I was so scared I’d lost you.”
He buried his face into her hair, loving how she smelled of flowers and sunshine even in the middle of winter. “You’ll never lose me, Sandy. I’m yours. Forever.”
About the Author
Like most authors, Leah’s always had stories revolving around in her head, talking to her late at night. College, marriage and raising a family had her pushing them aside until a conversation with her eldest son about how he needed to follow his dreams was thrown back at her. One year later Leah was thrilled to get her first contract for her sizzling romance Private Property from Samhain Publishing. In January 2010, the reviewers at The Romance Studio nominated Private Property for their annual Cupid and Psyche Award (CAPA) for “Best Erotic Romance”. Leah was also nominated in the “Best Erotic Romance Author” category. Reviewers have since awarded her books numerous Top Pick and Recommended Reads reviews along with another CAPA nomination for Deliberate Deceptions as “Best Contemporary Romance of 2011”. You can learn more about Leah and her books on her website, Facebook or Twitter (@LeahBraemel).
Look for these titles by Leah Braemel
Now Available:
Hauberk Protection
Private Property
Personal Protection
Deliberate Deceptions
A little lying and misdirection in the name of love is never wrong. Right?
Deliberate Deceptions
© 2011 Leah Braemel
Hauberk Protection, Book 3
Chad Miller once had the perfect life—a beautiful baby daughter, a loving wife, a promising career with the FBI. Within a year, he’d lost everything. Making Hauberk Protection a success salvaged his career, but he’s never managed to get over the one fateful decision that spelled the end of his marriage. And the death of his child.
For eight years, grief and guilt have haunted Lauren Miller’s climb up the ranks of the Light Brigade, a secret international hostage rescue team. Now she’s the target of a vengeful ex-Brigade operative who’ll stop at nothing to take her down. Even if it means taking out everyone she cares about. Including Chad. Getting him to accept her as his bodyguard? It’ll take some fast talking—and faster hands.
Trapped in a remote safe house with Lauren is the last place Chad ever wanted to be. He may finally have the chance to get some answers about why she ran, but with his hard-won defenses crumbling, he’s having trouble remembering the questions. In the heat of their rekindled passion, Lauren struggles to keep her professional focus…and keep the secrets that could break his heart all over again.
Warning: Angst dead-ahead! Lost love. Angst. Reunited lovers. Angst. Sex. More angst. And did I mention the angst? A box of tissues is definitely needed. But don’t worry, there’s still a Happy-Ever-After.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Deliberate Deceptions:
He was so cold, so controlled. The struggle to keep her disappointment from showing challenged Lauren. Did he not feel anything for her anymore? Did he have none of the desire, none of the need that had tied them together? The desire that had flared inside her, setting her body aglow as soon as she’d seen him? The need for him hadn’t lessened over the years. If anything, he was more attractive than he’d been before. She’d always found a man with just a hint of silver at his temples sexy.
How could she get him to stay? To listen to her with an open mind?
She took a step closer. Please don’t let him leave. Don’t let him close the door between our rooms and shut me out completely.
She toyed with the buttons of her blouse. She’d left the top two undone out of habit, but now she toyed with the next one, undoing it, then the next. The fabric parted just enough to show the lace of her chemise. He’d always preferred the fantasy of wondering what was beneath, letting his imagination take over. “Thank you for volunteering to guard me. I was surprised when they said you’d be the lead op.”
She had been surprised, she realized. She’d been half expecting them to call the whole thing off. Fear that she’d screw things up even more and lose any chance for a reconciliation set in, leaving her frozen deep into her bones.
“I should go.” His voice was rough but at least he hadn’t moved.
“Please don’t.” She touched his forearm, letting her fingers rest on him. Heat rose through his cotton shirt, warming her. He was leaner than he’d been. Different. Yet the same. “I don’t think I could get to sleep, not after that helicopter ride.”
His gaze dropped to her fingers, a frown creasing his forehead. “I’d forgotten you don’t like riding in helicopters. Was the flight bad?”
“It could have been better.” You could have been with me. “There was a bit of turbulence coming over the hills.” Or were they mountains? She still hadn’t decided. “I haven’t had much to eat. Maybe we could find the kitchen, rustle up a sandwich. Talk.” About so many things she didn’t know where to start. An explanation for why she’d left? For not contacting him? Or even where she’d been and what she’d been doing? Except neither of those were possible thanks to the Brigade’s rigid secrecy agreement.
“I’ll call the kitchen and ask if they can bring something up for you. As for talking…” He scrubbed his face with his hands, breaking her contact with him. “We can talk tomorrow when we’re both fresh.” He made touching him impossible by walking to the door and standing inside his room. “When we’ve both had a chance to sleep on things.”
“Stay. I don’t want to be alone tonight.” Like she’d been for so long.
If she’d had any question he could still love her, the look he gave her removed any doubt. There was no trace of the predator on the hunt he’d had when they were first dating or even five minutes ago, the dominant man determined to win her. This look spoke of the depth of his love and longing. His voice, though controlled, revealed his pain and need even though it was barely above a whisper, husky as if he’d been screaming all night. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I do.” She walked toward him, trying to be quiet, desperate not to give in to the urge to fall at his feet and prove herself to him. If she did, he might react like a wounded animal. One that could turn on her and rip her limb from limb.
No doubts tonight, she told herself, afraid to speak out loud, afraid of breaking whatever force was holding them together. She undid the remaining buttons, tugged her blouse from her slacks and let it drop from her shoulders onto the floor.
His gaze dropped to the lace of her chemise where her nipples had hardened. He’d always loved her breasts, loved touching them, cupping them, kissing them. She debated pulling the chemise over her head, letting him view them unencumbered but decided the peep show might be more provocative. It felt strange to be deliberately leading him on, to have to seduce him. She shimmied out of her slacks and stepped out of them, leaving them in a heap on the floor beside her blouse. Seconds later, her thong rested on top of the pile.
One moment he was clutching the door frame, the next moment she was flattened against it, his thigh between her legs, holding her in place. His voice rasped as he asked, “What’s your game, Lauren?”
“I’m not playing a game, Chad.” Just doing a lousy job of seducing you.
He closed his eyes for just a
second before meeting her gaze again. “So it’s just sex you’re looking for? You want to fuck and that’s it? Like an itch you want to scratch?”
We cared more about fucking than making sure Emily didn’t die, a tiny voice in the back of her head nagged. A voice she thought she’d long since banished. “I miss you. I miss us.”
His lips hovered centimeters above hers, his breath warm on her cheek, his eyes locked on her mouth. She expected him to lean down, to take charge, to kiss her. But he didn’t. Instead he held himself in check with a rigid control, as if he were fighting a battle. And winning.
“I don’t want just one night, Lauren. I want it all back again—us, the way we were. We both know that’s not going to happen.”
All her doubts crumbled into dust. He wanted her still. “We don’t know that.”
She tilted her chin and closed the distance between them until her lips brushed his. He didn’t move, letting her tongue slide against the seam joining them but not allowing her entry. She wouldn’t beg but if he wouldn’t accept her kiss, she’d find another way past his defenses.
Her hands flattened over his chest, seeking his shirt buttons. He didn’t move as she undid them one by one. His stomach muscles tensed when she parted the opening of his shirt and touched bare skin. She affected him, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. She was so close. If she could just convince him to let go, to give her a chance…she traced the curve of his stomach, up to his pectorals. Love me. Please.
As if she’d touched a switch, his body shuddered beneath her fingers. He drew a deep breath, then his lips captured hers, taking command of the kiss. His tongue swept over her lips as if he were sampling her, preparing to feast upon her. He adjusted the angle of his head; his chin rasped over hers, the heat of the razor burn rousing a lingering reminder of their lovemaking long ago.
This was what she’d remembered, what she’d dreamed of all these years. Wanted. Needed.
Yet he hadn’t touched her with anything but his mouth. She wanted his hands on her, all over her, every inch of his body touching hers. His chest, his stomach, his hips. More than the hard length of his thigh holding her in place.
Her hands slid around his waist in an attempt to pull him closer but he resisted her attempts. Damn it, if he wouldn’t come to her, she’d go to him.
She shifted until they were chest to chest, cradling his erection against her mound, relieved to feel the proof that he wanted her as much as she needed him. The pressure against her chest increased when he captured her wrists, dragged them over her head. God yes, like that. Take me hard and fast, the way I love.
Their combined breathing was heavy and harsh in the room as they stood there, panting. Waiting. The hell with waiting. She’d waited too long for this chance, she wasn’t going to let it slip away. Holding her breath, she ground her hips against his erection.
With a groan she felt to her toes, Chad dropped his head to her shoulder. His mouth sought out the spot beneath her ear, a spot he’d long ago learned connected straight to her pussy. His teeth nipped the spot, his tongue soothed the sting. Pain followed by pleasure. He repeated it. So hard and fast was out. Slow and easy was nice too.
Without warning, he straightened, releasing her. Instead of backing away, his fingers combed through her hair, one hand cupping the back of her head, holding her in place. “Tell me you don’t want this.”
“I can’t. I do want this.”
I want to go to bed with you lying beside me, knowing you’ll be there in the morning. I want to make you understand why I had to leave, take the pain away that I caused you. I want us. The way we once were. Before.
Before the photographers invaded their privacy. Before Emily’s death. If it hadn’t been for his hold on her, she would have swayed. Instead, she forced the guilt, the grief, back into their cubbyhole and slammed the door she’d created to hold them back.
With a gentle pressure, he pushed her to her knees.
“You know what I want.”
Love could be their greatest liability.
Illicit Intuitions
© 2012 Nikki Duncan
Sensory Ops, Book 3
Ava Malia knows three things. She was once a kickass covert operative. She will eventually adjust to her new team, the FBI Specialized Crimes Unit. And the only way to finally be free of her professional past is to solve her first case and get her hands on a game-changing technology. The only problem? Success rides on her ability to swallow her distaste for the persona she must adopt in order to earn the trust of a mysterious scientist.
Dr. H escaped childhood captivity with three things. His sister. Complete control of his gift. And an engulfing distrust of anyone in the government. Adjusting to a life of freedom hasn’t been easy, but he’s found peace in solitude. The sexy woman auditing his empathic studies, though, has a way of getting under his skin that’s both arousing and disturbing. Plus, his psychic ability warns him of secrets so deeply buried in her psyche, they’d be better left alone.
Yet their instant attraction strips away all their protective barriers, down to the foundation of a new, fragile trust. And a vulnerability that, when an old enemy opens fire, could blast away any chance of a future.
Warning: If you don’t like mysterious heroes who can see into strong heroines, sexy love scenes, empaths, or quirky characters… Oh come on, who doesn’t like those things?
Enjoy the following excerpt for Illicit Intuitions:
Of all the fuck-ups in all of the labs in all of the world, he’d given her that bikini in his. And damn if she hadn’t found a way to cover the tattoo. Her tattoo had floated through his dreams, shifting constantly from one shape into another with the multitude of possibilities.
The bottom edge he’d glimpsed had looked like feathers. Something soft and sexual to taunt him as vividly as the sensual dare coating her voice when the conversation turned to anything remotely sexual. Sensuality which tempted him into making stupid choices.
Choices like Dana’s suit, a suit he would never again be able to see on Dana.
She stayed behind him as they left the building and headed down the path he’d had designed to cut through the thick foliage. The beach wasn’t far away, but the tall palms and bushy landscaping he’d had put in around the lab hid it from view of the building. It had been a move he’d taken hesitantly, but in the end his focus during working hours had improved for it.
“You know, a little warning we’d be going for a hike would have been nice.”
“We’re almost there.” It was a short walk, easy enough when you got used to it. She handled it well, but her occasional grunts and muttered curses slapped at him with the sting of an electrode.
He lowered a mental shield and reached out to her. The water ahead became a richer blue while the trees adopted an unnaturally bright vibrancy.
Frustration and a sense of conflict were all he picked up before she went blank, as if she’d shut a door to her thoughts.
He risked a glance over his shoulder to check on her. She was adjusting the fabric over one perfectly shaped, palm-sized boob. He turned away, but not before glimpsing a flash of her puckered, perky, rose-pink nipple. She smelled of the gardenia and eucalyptus oils he put in a bowl of water each night for the soothing properties of the concoction.
He hardened instantly. The calming and protective qualities of those scents would never have the same impact on him again. Yeah. He’d screwed up.
What had started out as an exercise to test her in a relaxed environment, because he had a hunch she had empathic tendencies, had whipped around with a vicious backlash that instead tested his protective barriers. Barriers he’d spent his life building quaked with the desire to drop. A desire he couldn’t give in to.
“Where precisely are we going? And is anyone else joining us?”
“There’s a private beach Dana and I use often.” Blocked off from the main part of the beach by a steep wall of rocks combined with more precisely placed foliage. “And no.”
&nbs
p; “A private beach in this part of Miami?”
“Yes.” It was doable when you had the right connections and money. His connections happened to want his silence more than they wanted to hang on to their precious dollars. Or they had. If the Feds were right, if he’d read the situation clearly yesterday, Janus would be making an appearance soon.
H’s gut knotted. He’d fortified his shields and security. He hoped it would be enough when the time came. “Our work can be stressful. We need our breaks.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
She misunderstood his relationship with Dana. Most people who met them did, but until the right person came along they wouldn’t worry about correcting misconceptions. When he and Ms. Sebastian stepped onto the beach, with the calm waves lapping at the shore and the sand just warming from the sun, instant peace moved over him.
“So this is a break, rather than work?”
“Sure.”
“I don’t work that way.”
A perk of his job was calling the shots and enjoying his work. “You do if you work with me.”
His entire life had been tests and work and demands. One misery after another. One reminder of who was in charge followed immediately by another. They’d misstepped and allowed valuable information to seep into his mind.
When he’d put the scrambled bits of information together in his mind, the power had shifted. Finally, he’d had what he waited twenty-five years for and after a little planning and research, he’d made his demands for freedom. The demands had been met without question or hesitation.
When the funds and his release had been secured, he’d chosen his spot and designed his lab. The first time he’d stepped onto this stretch of sandy land he’d known he was home.