Burned

by Nikki Duncan

  “I’m fine.” Ignoring his body’s impulses, he replaced her hand on the t-shirt with one of his own. “I’ve got this, Danica.”

  “You’re going to need stitches.”

  “I’ve had worse.” He moved to sit up. The boat rolled beneath him from dizziness and nausea rather than waves. Maybe he hadn’t had worse.

  “I’m the doctor here. You need to move slowly, and you need stitches.”

  “Okay.” If she wanted to play doctor without her top he wasn’t going to argue. No straight man would. “Help me to the cockpit. There’s a first aid kit there.”

  “My office at the house would be better.”

  As tempting as following her home was, there was no reason. “I have everything you could need.”

  “If you say so.” She refrained from calling him stubborn, but he heard the suggestion underlying her words.

  Neither of them spoke again while she helped him out of the constantly bouncing dingy and up the few stairs. She followed his instructions to find the first aid kit.

  He sat in the captain’s seat with the sun shining down and watched her move around the boat comfortably. With all the supplies gathered, she stood in front of him and cleaned the wound. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t push the door. That latch smacked the frame and it bounced back.”

  “So your intention wasn’t to decapitate me?”

  “No, Braydon.” She scrunched up her nose crinkling the thin scar into microscopic puckers and concentrated on tying off the first stitch. “I took a vow to heal rather than harm people.”

  “Well, that’s a relief. I’d hate to see what happened if you set out to harm me.” He smiled through a wince to make sure she knew he was kidding. She was talking without her regular awkwardness and he wanted to keep her doing so.

  She chuckled. “I’ve never been accident prone, but judging by the state of your emergency kit the same can’t be said for you.”

  He ignored her remark on the battered case and supplies he’d restocked many times, adding to them with each injury. “So it’s only me who knocks you off your game?”

  “I’ll admit you do something to me.”

  Damn, but the possibility flopped happily in his gut. A speed boat zipped past, rocking the boat. Danica froze with her needle poised above his eye. He grabbed her hips to steady her. Though she seemed to be well-balanced on her own feet, he didn’t release her. Instead, he wondered if she wore panties to match her bra.

  “Something? You won’t be more specific?” He worked his thumbs in small circles over her pelvis. Fully in doctor mode, she didn’t respond.

  “No. And stop moving.” She snipped the thread off. “I only have two stitches to go.”

  His forehead tingled beneath her touch. The pulse in his neck pounded painfully, and it wasn’t entirely due to the blood loss. Her nipples stiffened behind the thin lace bra with little bumps circling them. His balls tightened. “Am I going to have a charming scar like yours?”

  “What?”

  “The scar lining your nose. How’d you get it?”

  “Fishing hook gone awry.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No. The hook didn’t catch in the fish’s mouth right. I pulled it out of the water. It opened its mouth. The hook flipped back and caught me.” She tapped her glasses and smiled. “Now I have a scar and get to live with glasses.”

  “It went into your eye?” He studied her face, looking for more scarring than the thin line. There was none. Someone had done great work, yet the lingering imperfection made her more appealing.

  “Yeah. Could’ve been a lot worse. I mean think about it. What’s sanitary about a fishing hook fresh from the fish’s mouth with the bait still on it?”

  “Not a damn thing.” He would have laughed at the oh-my-gag-that’s-repulsive look on her face if she didn’t have a needle in his forehead. “When did it happen?”

  “Summer before freshman year.” She tied and cut off the last stitch and set the scissors aside. “There. Keep it clean and the stitches will need to come out in four or five days. If you use Vitamin E after that you won’t scar.”

  He hooked his index fingers into the waist of her shorts and pulled her closer so she stood between his legs. “Are you that good?”

  “I trained with a plastic surgeon and worked in a New York City emergency room.” Her breasts rose and fell with choppy breaths. “If you’re going to be hit in the head and need stitches—”

  “You’re the woman to do the hitting.”

  “The stitching at the very least.”

  “Tell me something, Danica.” He slid his palms over her stomach, tracing the subtle edges of her abs with his finger tips and slowly edged toward her breasts. “What are you doing here?”

  “Huh?”

  His thumb tweaked her nipple. “Why did you come to my boat?”

  “Did you know the human body can function without a brain?”

  “Good. You can shut yours off and just respond.” He didn’t care why she’d come to his boat. He’d endured her hands on him for as long as he could. She was here. She was half naked. He was all for getting her completely naked.

  Braydon leaned forward and kissed the edge of her bra, swiping his tongue beneath the lace edge. She moaned and canted closer. He popped the button of her shorts and lowered her zipper. His body begged from his goose pimpling flesh to his tingling scalp to his pulsing cock. Release. Soon. Very soon.

  “Be sure, Danica.”

  She kissed his ear lobe, pulling the tender skin between her teeth. “I’m sure.”

  She’s more spice than sugar…and he has a taste for heat.

  Bold

  © 2012 Mackenzie McKade

  Whispering Cove, Book 5

  Tabatha Taylor has mooned over her brother’s best friend since childhood. For years she’s been chipping away at his cool façade, using the generous, all-grown-up assets God gave her to her advantage.

  Finally she has a chance to work close to him on a project for the Fall Festival. Going nose to nose with him will prove her ideas have merit, even if she doesn’t have a degree. But she learns the cost to her heart could be bigger than she anticipated.

  Tabby’s dark beauty definitely sets architect Reece McGrath’s pulse racing, but she’s an itch better left unscratched. The attraction that flares between them is hot and undeniable, but getting close means risking a friendship he values and a lifestyle he cherishes. Crossing that boundary isn’t worth the price he’d have to pay.

  With one of the grandfathers of Whispering Cove pinpointing them in another matchmaking scheme, though, they find themselves inching closer to that line. And closer

  Warning: This book gives new meaning to getting nailed. Nothing beats a man with a variety of tools at his disposal and a woman who is bold enough to take him on.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Bold:

  When Reece maneuvered his truck around a curve in the road, the two-story, redbrick gymnasium came into view. Surprise registered when he saw Tabby’s black Jeep in front. As he pulled up beside the vehicle, relief filtered through him. At least now he knew where she was. He sat behind the wheel of his vehicle for a moment, wondering whether he should let her be or go in and help. The thought came and went when he reached for the door handle and got out. Gravel crunched beneath his feet as he trod purposely to the door, finding it unlocked. As he entered the auditorium, he heard Tabby’s sweet voice.

  “O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?” Standing center stage, she gazed longingly over the rows and rows of empty seats. Houselights beaming upon her, she made a quarter turn and the long, flowing, red velvet Renaissance gown she wore brushed the polished floor.

  He smiled. Silently he closed the door to not disturb her.

  “Deny thy father and refuse thy name.” She breathed deeply, her features belaying a tortured woman in love.

  Acting appeared to come naturally to Tabby. Of course, she had always been good at theatrics—the brat. With th
ose puppy-dog eyes she could wind her father, Devon and even him around her little finger at will.

  “Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,” she spoke softly. “And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.”

  Padding down the aisle, he opened his arms. “Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?” he quoted, remembering the line from his high school years when they had been forced to read the play.

  Tabby shrieked, her head swinging side to side in search of the one who had invaded her privacy. Regaining her composure, she leaned forward and squinted, peering into the darkness against the brilliance.

  Licking her lips betrayed her nervousness. “Who’s there?” she growled.

  “’Tis me, Romeo. Your fairest of princes.” He barely held back a stream of laughter.

  He knew the moment she recognized him. She pinched her lips against a grin begging to be released.

  “Fairest of princes? You’ve got to be kidding.”

  He may not be Romeo, but she definitely was Juliet. With her long black hair and that gown a little too tight so it raised her breasts invitingly, she looked as if she had taken a step back in time.

  “So what is this? A movie montage?” He slid into a front row aisle seat, kicking his feet up on the bar before it. “I want to see more.” And surprisingly he did. He had never seen this side of her. She was an amazing woman with many facets to her even he didn’t know about. For some damn reason he wanted to know all those things about her he missed out on while he was at college and on job sites.

  A devilish glint sparked in her eyes. “You do, do you?”

  “Yeah. Show me what you have.”

  Gathering a wad of material in each hand, she raised the hem of her gown and disappeared behind the heavy velveteen curtains. In seconds she returned adorned in her own boots along with a golden full-circled skirt draped by a black overlay, but it was the bodice that made his jaw drop. The damn woman didn’t have a shirt or a tunic beneath it. The leather lacings spanned wide enough to send his gaze down her bare cleavage, setting his pulse racing.

  When he didn’t say anything, her palms went to her shapely hips. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what I am.”

  Sexy. Gorgeous. A couple more words bounced around in his head, but that’s not exactly what stirred his blood and made his cock twitch with excitement. An image of her came to his mind… Tabby sprawled naked and prone across a blanket atop a sandy beach, her graceful spine arching as his mouth traced a path along its curve.

  “Really, Reece? I’ll give you hint. ‘Argggg… Ye matey.’”

  Jerking his attention to her scrunched-up face, he noticed for the first time her eye patch. “Hmm. A pirate.”

  She released an exaggerated breath. “Yeah.” And then she disappeared behind the curtains once more.

  He slipped his feet from the railing to rest on the thinly carpeted floor. Easing out of his seat, he moved toward the stairs leading to the stage. When his boots struck the waxy floor, Tabby came whirling across the platform dressed in a soft pink Nutcracker ballet tutu costume. The sugarplum fairy skirt glittered beneath the lights. Her hair was a curtain of silk whipping through the air as she spun again and again, laughing. The girlish sound wrapped around his heart and tugged.

  Taking another step, he sneezed. The musty scent of time and dust teased his nose.

  When she came to a halt, her breathing was labored. Her breasts rising and falling were hard to ignore. “I always wanted to be a ballerina.” She stood with her left foot in front of her turned at an angle while stretching her right foot behind her. Her arms held gracefully before her.

  God. She was beautiful, like a delicate fairy too whimsical to believe. His palms itched to reach out and touch her, prove she was real, but he resisted the urge.

  “Why didn’t you pursue it?”

  Her shoulders rose and fell on a sigh. “I’d have to leave Whispering Cove.” As if that was a valid answer to his question, she performed a perfect pirouette and tiptoed elegantly out of his sight.

  He heard the rustle of clothing, and then a thud followed by an unfeminine “crap”. “Is that why you dropped out of college?”

  “Uh-huh,” she murmured, before the delicate toes of one foot peeked from behind the waterfall of forest green drapes.

  His heart skipped a beat as a shapely ankle appeared, followed by a calf and a slender thigh. Her hand was next, along with an almost transparent black scarf pinched between her thumb and index finger. She let it slowly fall before her head appeared, the lower half of her face shielded by a veil that lent an air of mystery and sensuality.

  Instantly, his throat went dry. When she stepped out in the open, he pulled in a breath, his muscles clenching, his body tightening. A whirl of blood swished in his head.

  Delectable breasts were barely concealed in a black, sheer, belly dance coin sash, baring her back and dipping low in the front. His hungry gaze followed a span of tanned bare skin to her glistening bellybutton ring to the matching hip scarf she wore. A variety of different colors and lengths of the diaphanous material dangled around her legs. As she undulated her body in sexy and enticing waves, coins jingled, spurring his arousal.

  “Tabby, s-stop.” He didn’t recognize the thick throaty voice as his.

  Instead of heeding his demand, she giggled, stepping before him and yanking a scarf from her waist to let it float to the floor before she drifted away.

  He died a little inside. He had never wanted a woman like he did Tabby. She stirred something deep within him he hadn’t even known existed. Desire so potent it felt as if it touched his soul. The raging need inside him quieted some when she spun around and smiled, showing him the young girl he once knew. Several more times she returned to test his willpower, each time disposing of a scarf to expose more and more of her delectable limbs.

  “Please,” he heard himself beg, weakly fighting against the years he had secretly wanted her but stayed away because of her brother and their families’ relationship.

  He didn’t know what came over him, but the next time she came close, his hand jutted out and pulled her into his arms.

  Their eyes locked in a sultry battle of attraction.

  When he ran his fingers across her veil, electricity ignited and snapped, stinging him. The next thing he knew he was kissing her with an unleashed hunger that scared the shit out of him. Dammit. He was actually trembling with the need to take her. It didn’t help that Mine whispered through his thoughts, over and over.

  A woman on fire with desire. A man with the right equipment to fan the flames.

  Brazen

  © 2012 Cathryn Fox

  Whispering Cove, Book 6

  Josie Wells’s libido is in an uproar. Her psychic promised she’d meet Mr. Right—two months ago. Her good-girl image is wearing thin, and when she gets the chance to have a little fun with town bad boy Adam Collins, she decides to go for it. The notorious playboy will be perfect for some no-strings play time until the real thing comes along.

  Knowing he goes for the brazen type, Josie pours on the heat to seduce him at the town’s Festival. The kiss they share touches off an explosion of passion she never saw coming.

  Adam’s always been crazy about Josie, but he’s never been willing to expose such a nice girl to the Collins Curse. She deserves the big house with the white picket fence—with a man who doesn’t have failed relationships written all over his family tree.

  As their brief affair starts to become something more—and the town psychic predicts that Josie is destined to be his—Adam dares to hope there’s a chance. But then he learns a secret that makes him question what’s real…and what isn’t.

  Warning: Contains hot sex against a fire truck, a sexy firefighter who’s willing to do what it takes, and enough orgasmic explosions to rock your world!

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Brazen:

  “What the hell was that?” Trent asked when Katy and Josie were out of earshot.

  “What the hell was what?”

/>   “Oh, come on, Adam,” Trent said, grinning like the crazy son of a bitch he really was. “I thought I was going to have to hose you two down.”

  When the festival’s chairman came up from behind, Adam grabbed the box of money and handed it to him, apologizing that he didn’t have a dollar count. Then he snatched his windbreaker off the back of his chair, tossed it over his shoulder and started making his way toward Town Square.

  Knowing he was unable to keep anything from Trent, he cast him a sideways glance and said, “She really was coming on kind of strong, wasn’t she? What do you make of that?”

  Trent rolled his eyes. “Geez, I wonder.”

  Adam took a minute to chew on Trent’s response. Was it possible that sweet little Josie wanted him as much as he wanted her? She knew his reputation as a playboy, so why was a nice respectable girl like her, a girl who’d openly admitted to wanting love, marriage and children, suddenly paying him so much attention? What the hell had gotten into her?

  They rounded the corner and spotted a crowd surrounding the fire truck parked in the center of Town Square. “So what are you going to do about it?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing? Come on, Adam, you both clearly want each other. What’s stopping you?”

  “You know what’s stopping me.” Wanting to change the subject, Adam nodded toward the truck and asked, “What exactly is it we’re supposed to be doing anyway?”

  “Adam…” Trent began, refusing to let the matter drop.

  But Adam just shook his head and said, “You know I can’t, Trent. Not with her. Not with Josie.”

  Before Trent could respond, their captain Doug Simms called out to them and waved them over.

  “Get yourselves suited up,” he said when they approached, and that’s when Adam noticed his colleagues. All three were shirtless and wearing only their pants and suspenders. Confused, Adam wasn’t quite sure what the demonstration entailed or why they were doing it after dark. Most fire-fighting displays were done for the children and there wasn’t a child in sight at this late hour.