Then don’t miss these sexy titles from
Rhenna Morgan
ROUGH & TUMBLE
A self-made man with his fingers in a variety of successful businesses, Jace Kennedy lives for the challenge and he always gets what he wants. From the start, he sees Vivienne Moore’s hidden wild side and knows she’s his perfect match, if only he can break it free. He’s proud of who he is and where he came from, and he’ll be damned if he lets Vivienne go before showing her the safest place of all is in the arms of a dangerous man.
“Gritty, raw, and a side dose of sweet lovin’. ROUGH & TUMBLE by Rhenna Morgan will warm your heart and melt your panties.”
—#1 New York Times bestselling author Audrey Carlan (Calendar Girl series)
“A must-read!”
—RT Book Reviews, 5-Star Top Pick
WILD & SWEET
Zeke Dugan is not a man who walks the straight and narrow. He may have sworn an oath as a trauma doc, but he has zero problem leveraging his medical skills outside a hospital if it means giving the Brotherhood—the group of men he calls family—an advantage. Blood before business. All that changes when shy Gabrielle stumbles into his life and ignites his protective instincts.
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The first full-length novel series from New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author
ALEXA RILEY
EVERYTHING FOR HER
Mallory Sullivan never expected Oz to be the greatest culmination of her dreams. But sometimes fate determines who you fall in love with. Who makes you lose control. Who owns your soul.
And then you realize it wasn’t fate at all...
HIS ALONE
Paige Turner is trying to outrun her past, but there it is, tossed back in her face any time she manages to get two steps ahead. As soon as she is ready for revenge, her boss, Ryan Justice, gets in her way and takes her off course. Ryan will stop at nothing to make her his. Before she knows it, he has made his way into her life and into her heart...
“I devour every single delicious word Alexa Riley writes.”
—#1 New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Maya Banks
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Coming soon in 2017 from Rhenna Morgan and Carina Press
Live hard, f*ck harder and follow only their own rules. Those are the cornerstones the six men of the Haven Brotherhood live and bleed by, refusing to conform to society’s expectations, taking what they want and always watching each other’s backs.
Read on for a sneak peek of Knox and Darya’s romance
TEMPTED & TAKEN
The next book in Rhenna Morgan’s HAVEN BROTHERHOOD series.
Tempted & Taken
by Rhenna Morgan
One week Darya had waited. Waited, watched her every step and worked herself ragged. Outside the rearranged Post-it on her desk, not once had she glimpsed any indication Ruslan or anyone else had found her. In fact, her life had settled into its usual routine so easily she’d wondered if maybe she hadn’t imagined leaving things askew on her desk.
Regardless, the time to meet Knox was here and hopefully, the leg up she needed to go with the introduction. Parked in front of a single-story building with plain-Jane concrete walls, she stared up at the brushed chrome Citadel Security sign and rehashed the pitch she’d spoken aloud at least twenty times a day. Cool air pumped from the car’s vents against her clammy skin, barely making a dent with all the adrenaline coursing through her veins.
The clock on the dash flicked from 1:54 p.m. to 1:55 p.m. Either she could sit here until straight up two o’clock and let her anxiety climb all the way up into the stratosphere, or she could pry herself out of her car and hope a slightly early arrival showed an extra level of professionalism.
She popped the handle and shoved the heavy door open, swinging her resale Jimmy Choo-shod feet out onto the concrete parking lot. What the tan pumps lacked in pizzazz they more than made up for in accentuating her legs, especially paired with the matching pencil skirt that ended just above her knees and the delicate ivory camp shirt with its mandarin collar. Putting the outfit together had been both a joy and a welcome distraction, a brief trip back to a time when she’d been able to enjoy fine fashion instead of constantly trying to blend in.
Before her hand connected with one of the glass entry handles, the click of a lock being released sounded. She pulled the door open and a wave of chilled air to make her Challenger’s AC seem weak blasted across her skin. Even with the ample light spilling through the double doors and windows on either side, it took her eyes a second to adjust from the bold midday sunshine.
A pretty blonde dressed in jeans and a T-shirt stood from behind a curved reception desk stained a soft ebony and accented in soft chrome. Her eyes were an enviable green and her hair styled in a tousled, pixie cut. She reached across the tops of three monitors arranged in a perfect semicircle and offered her hand in greeting. “You must be Jeannie Simpson. I’m Katy, Knox and Beckett’s assistant. Can I get you something to drink?”
Two or three shots of vodka would be nice. God knew she needed something to loosen up her tongue. While the outside of Knox’s building had been nothing short of plain, the inside was jaw-dropping high-end contemporary. Like Katy’s desk, the walls on either side of her were dark—not quite black, but charcoal gray, and fashioned from some kind of metal rather than paint. The wall behind Katy’s desk, however, was a beautiful dove gray that added extra depth to the limited space. Classy yet edgy cylinder pendant lights with frosted white glass hung above either end of her desk, and two impenetrable steel doors flanked her on either side. “If it’s not too much trouble, water would be nice.”
“No trouble at all.” Katy cocked her head, curiosity glimmering behind her assessing gaze. “Your accent is amazing. I’m guessing Russian?”
For a second, Darya’s thoughts flatlined. With limited daily interactions beyond her normal routine, it was seldom she met new people. So much so she’d forgotten the need for explanation. “Yes,” she said, realizing all too quickly Knox would expect the same. “Not too hard to understand I hope.”
“Not at all. It’s actually beautiful.” Katy punched a few buttons on her computer and waved Darya to the small seating area to one side of the front door. “Just give me a minute to grab your water and let Knox know you’re here.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” She splayed her hand on a black screen beside one heavy door and a heavy clunk that sounded on par with a bank vault being released resonated through the roo
m. Only then was Darya left alone in the intimidating environment.
Slowly, she paced toward the iron-colored leather couch and the oblong marble coffee table. Sitting was out of the question, not if she wanted to exude any kind of calm. She might be technically alone in the room, but the cameras anchored in every corner made it relatively certain there were eyes on her somewhere. She squeezed the handles on her briefcase a little tighter and pretended to study the landscape outside one picture window. What really held her attention was the glass itself, multiple layers thick and no doubt capable of stopping bullets. But then such measures made sense for a security company. As did the secured doors. At least she hoped that was the reason for such stringent measures. The last time she’d been in such a tightly controlled environment was the day she’d met Ruslan, and her world had gone from pampered to hell in all of five minutes.
The door kachunked behind her.
Darya turned, the pleasant smile she’d intended for Katy evaporating along with all the air in her chest. Instead of Katy strolling through the large door, Knox ambled her direction, a smile in place potent enough to disarm the most jaded woman and a bottle of water loosely gripped in one hand.
And he was gorgeous. So much more than what the pictures she’d scrounged up promised. More intensity. More charisma. More everything. Like in all the photos she’d seen, he wore faded Levis and military-style black boots. His T-shirt was a deep gray that accentuated his lean, but muscled torso, and tattoos peeked out from each sleeve.
It wasn’t until he moved within reaching distance and held out the water he’d brought her that the white graphic on the T-shirt registered—a classic Impala and the phrase, Get in, loser. We’re going hunting.
“You like Supernatural?” she blurted.
His smile deepened and he wiggled the bottle still in his outstretched hand. “Not even officially introduced yet and you’re already scoring points for good taste.” A rugged leather watch with a thick camel-colored band covered his wrist, while a darker brown cuff and two smaller bracelets made of turquoise and red shells circled the other. Total rock star.
She took the water, wishing she could press the ice-cold plastic against her flaming cheeks, but juggled it with her briefcase instead and offered her hand for a formal introduction. “Sorry. I’m JJ.”
His grip engulfed hers, the warmth of the contact and the way he leisurely perused her from head to toe scattering her barely resuscitated thoughts. “Not a thing to apologize for from where I’m standing.” His gaze settled on hers, the impact of it stoking grossly inappropriate thoughts. Vivid, carnal and deliciously wicked thoughts. His voice lowered and rasped with pure sexual promise. “I’m Knox.”
Oh, yes. Definitely dangerous territory. Absolutely the worst trespass her mind could make with plans to pitch her future so close. She forced herself to relinquish his hand. “I’m very pleased to meet you.”
His beautiful gray eyes sparked with mischief and he grinned in a way that said he hadn’t missed the huskiness in her response. He side-stepped and swept his hand toward the door, but rather than use the movement to add more distance, he splayed his hand at the small of her back. “How about we get out of the lobby and give you a chance to get your bearings before we talk shop?”
Walking was good. Distance would be even better. Although, for the first time since she’d started wearing heels, she wasn’t sure if she could put one foot in front of the other without looking like a newborn deer.
Behind the industrial steel door, the air was even colder, the steady draft tunneling between the glass walls on either side of her gently lifting the hair off the back of her neck. “You must really hate July in Texas.”
“My servers hate July in Texas. I learned to tolerate it like every other native before I left the cradle.”
Behind the glass, server racks stretched tall and wide in precise rows. Her heels clicked against the industrial tile, mingling with the steady hum from the machines. “This is all for your security company?”
“Some of them. The rest support the traffic from my apps.”
Well, that was silly of her. The very reason she was here and she’d not been smart enough to realize he’d need a sizable infrastructure to support the business he’d built. She slowed her steps, appreciating how the wires ran in neat rows up the back of each stack then disappeared into the iron racks above. Combined with the soft blue light emanating from the ceiling can lights she felt a bit like she’d entered a sci-fi flick. “It’s quite overwhelming.”
He chuckled and placed his hand on yet another bio scanner beside a black wood door. “Overwhelming is when a server goes down and pissed-off customers start calling in.” The lock released and he opened the door for her. “There’ve been a few drills I’d liken to an electronic version of a needle in a haystack, but hey. Nothin’ like a challenge to keep a man sharp.”
For some reason, the image of Knox knee-deep in a challenging situation sent a charge through her strong enough to power half the machines they’d left behind. True, he was handsome, but nothing captivated her more than a man’s intelligence. Considering Knox had both in spades, it was a wonder she’d been able to string more than three words together, let alone remember her name.
She trailed behind him into his office. It had the same contemporary feel as the lobby, only less intimidating in its colors. A soft gray chenille sofa and two club chairs covered in a matching patterned fabric were arranged near a window on the far side of the room. In the center was what she assumed was Knox’s desk, though it was far more unconventional than the standard arrangement. Where most people chose to arrange their furnishings with their back to the wall and a bird’s eye view on the entrance, Knox’s wide steel desk faced an astounding number of monitors mounted on the far wall, each of them streaming what she assumed was live footage from a number of businesses. Even more impressive were the four oversized computer monitors arranged in a semicircle in the center of his desk.
In the monitors hanging on the wall, people went about their daily activities, innocently working, drinking, and eating without so much as a clue they were being watched.
The muted tap of fingers on keys sounded and the screens went dark.
“They’re a distraction until you get used to them.” Knox spun his sleek black office chair around, rolled it toward a smallish collaboration table on her right and motioned to the guest chair behind it. “Have a seat.”
She did, unpacking her laptop from her briefcase as she did so and setting it on the tabletop.
Directly across from her, he leaned in, rested his forearms on the brushed chrome surface and cupped one fisted hand with the other. “So, you mentioned a business opportunity. What’s on your mind?”
So much for easing into the topic. And had she really referred to it as a business opportunity? Now he’d think she’d pulled some kind of bait and switch to earn his attention. She cleared her throat and smoothed one hand across the top of her computer. “Business opportunity might not be the right way to describe it.”
His expression blanked, the warmth and lighthearted mirth that had shone in his beautiful eyes chilling in an instant. As though she’d not only angered him, but disappointed him as well. Without the vibrancy in his gaze, his eyes looked tired. Pinched and weary around the edges as though he’d gone for far too long without rest.
She forged onward, drawing from the countless rehearsals she’d spoken out loud while pacing her apartment. “You remember when I first reached out to you—when I emailed you on my tracking services—I mentioned I’d learned your name from someone you’d mentored.”
He nodded, though the movement seemed cautious. “Jason Reynolds.”
“Yes.” She fidgeted in her seat and curled her fingers around the furthest edge of her laptop. “Jason’s told me many stories about you. About the men you call your brothers and how you’ve made a success
ful career for yourself. He holds you in very high regard.”
“Not sure how that plays into a business opportunity.”
This was it. In the grander scheme of things, it wasn’t nearly as big a risk as taking on JJ’s identity or fleeing Russia, but it could still catapult her future. She pulled in a slow breath and held his commanding stare. “It’s important because I want you to mentor me.”
His eyes widened, a little of the emotional barricade he’d put up easing as he spoke. “Jason’s a coder.”
“I know. He’s the one who first gave me the idea.”
“And you know him how?”
“He comes to visit his grandmother every Monday. At a retirement home. His grandmother isn’t very talkative, but he always comes and brings his computer. He told me you’ve been known to teach people with an interest and, if they do well, give them a leg up.”
“I teach people with talent. No matter how much interest a person has doesn’t mean they can be successful in the long run.”
Emboldened, she sat a little taller and leaned in. “I can’t tell you if I have talent, but I can promise you I’m tenacious. I’ve already completed two of the self-teaching courses you recommended to Jason and have started a third.”
He reclined against his chair back, one arm still draped atop the table while the other rested casually at his hip. It was a relaxed pose, but the intensity that crackled around him said she’d be a fool to assume he wasn’t assimilating each and every detail to the nth degree. “You’re looking to expand on the skip tracing?”
Always stick to the truth, JJ had coached her. Or as close to it as you can get.
“I’d like to move away from that business,” Darya answered, “to build a career that’s less reliant on companies but is still transportable.” Realizing the unintended kernel she’d left uncovered, she clarified, “So I can travel.”
For several seconds, he merely studied her, the quiet amplifying until it droned as loud as the servers in the other room.
“The skip tracing is good,” she said, needing to fill the silence. “With my contracts, I can keep a steady income, but I don’t like the feel of it. I don’t like finding people who don’t want to be found. I don’t want to worry that they’ll learn who found their information and take their anger out on me.”
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