by W Winters
She doesn’t let go of my hands, but she takes a half step back, letting her head nod. Intensity, curiosity, even fear swirl in her gaze. All the while, I wait for what she’ll say, what she’ll do.
“If you need me I’m here,” she finally answers.
“All I need is for you to follow me,” I tell her and lower my lips to hers. Nipping her bottom lip, the small bit of tension wanes. She may not be involved in what I do, but she’ll stay with me.
I know she will. Because she loves me and she knows how deeply I love her.
Moving my hand around her waist, I’ll make sure she never forgets, never questions what I feel for her.
She won’t go a day without knowing. Her head rests against my arm as we walk, her one hand holding mine, the other on top of our clasped hands.
“It’s all going to be all right,” she tells me, although she stares ahead, noting the Rare Books sign in the window which causes her brow to furrow.
The smell of old books is unique, and it engulfs us as we walk deeper into the aisle. The full shelves of worn and previously read books make rows, but the one shelf at the very back is the one she needs to see.
“What are we doing here?” she questions and lifts her gaze to mine, but I only squeeze her hand in response.
“Jase,” Bethany pushes for more, practically hissing my name although her steps have picked up with a giddiness she can’t hide, making me chuckle at her impatience.
When I come to a stop in front of the shelves, she brushes against me and steps forward. I watch her reaction to seeing the wall of thin cream pages.
“They don’t have covers?” she whispers and reaches out, her fingers trailing down the fronts of them.
I watch as she swallows, her throat tensing and her lips turning down.
“These are the books with no covers. No titles. They’re only stories.”
Her eyes glaze over, as I’m sure the Coverless Book comes back to her, a gift from her mother and so much more. We may forget words or details, but the way we feel never leaves our memories. I know that book scarred her in a way I can’t imagine although I’m not sure why.
“I wanted to get you another one. A different story to take its place.”
“We drove hours and hours to get a book?” she questions silently, her eyes beseeching me to explain why.
“This is the only place I found on the East Coast that carried unknown books-”
“I don’t want to read another tragedy,” she says and cuts me off. “I don’t want to risk it.”
“You’re going to want to though, cailín tine.”
A second passes and I swear I can hear her heart beating, waiting in limbo for more.
“These books all came from one person’s home years ago. She collected stories that made her feel loved.”
Bethany turns her attention back to the books, back to the stories I want her to read.
“I brought you here because they call this the aisle of hope.”
Seth
With her legs crossed like that, her red skirt rides up higher. It draws my eye and as she clears her throat, noticing my wandering gaze, I let the smirk appear on my lips before carelessly covering it with my hand.
It’s been too long since I’ve been this close to her, face to face. Too many years since she’s sought me out.
My stubble is rough beneath my fingertips; it’ll leave small scratches against her soft skin when I ravage her with the hunger I’ve had for so long.
“Did you hear what I said?” Laura asks. When she got into my car with Bethany, I could feel the waves of apprehension hidden in the silence, the lust that roared back to life when Bethany left us. And we made a deal.
“You said you wanted an exchange. You want to change the details of our deal.”
Her doe eyes beg me to consider, and they hold a vulnerability that her tense curves fail to deliver. She grips both arms of the chair across from me as her chest rises and falls with a quickened pace. She can’t hide the fear of coming back to this life. Of coming back to me.
As her bottom lip slips between her teeth, I note that she can’t hide the desire either.
“I’ve wanted this for too long to consider your proposal,” I tell her, spreading my legs wider and leaning forward in my office chair in the back room of the bar. My elbows rest on my knees as I lean closer to her, only inches away as I whisper, “You know what I want.”
“I can give you something you want more,” she speaks clearly, although her last words waver when her gaze drifts to my lips.
Lies. There’s nothing I want more.
I would have told her that and meant it with every bone in my body, but then she tells me, “I can give you Marcus.”
Hard to Love, Seth and Laura’s story, is coming late this summer, preorder now by clicking HERE!
There are many moving parts in this world. If you haven’t read Carter’s saga, starting with Merciless, I highly suggest you do that now. His story is just as intense and a tale that will stay with me forever. I hope these words stay with you as well. Keep reading for a sneak peek!
Here’s to love stories keeping our hearts beating.
The timeline of the Merciless world is as follows:
Sebastian’s story: A Kiss to Tell
Daniel’s story: Possessive
Carter’s story: The Merciless Series (Merciless, Heartless, Breathless , Endless )
Jase’s story: A Single Glance, A Single Kiss & A Single Touch
Sneak Peek at Merciless
From USA Today bestselling author W Winters comes a heart-wrenching, edge-of-your-seat gripping, romantic suspense.
I should’ve known she would ruin me the moment I saw her.
Women like her are made to destroy men like me.
I couldn’t resist her though.
Given to me to start a war; I was too eager to accept.
But I didn’t know what she’d do to me. That she would change everything.
She sees through me in a way no one else ever has.
Her innocence and vulnerability make me weak for her and I hate it.
I know better than to give in to temptation.
A ruthless man doesn’t let a soul close to him.
A cold-hearted man doesn’t risk anything for anyone.
A powerful man with a beautiful woman at his mercy … he doesn’t fall for her.
Chapter 1
Carter
War is coming.
It’s something I’ve known for over two years.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
My jaw ticks in time with the skin over my knuckles turning white as my fist clenches tighter. The tension in my stiff shoulders rises and I have to remind myself to breathe in deep and let the strain of it all go away.
Tick. Tock. It’s the only sound echoing off the walls of my office and with each passing of the pendulum the anger grows.
It’s always like this before I go to a meet. This one in particular sends a thrill through my blood, the adrenaline pumping harder with each passing minute.
My gaze moves from the grandfather clock in my office to the shelves next to it and then beneath them to the box made of mahogany and steel. It’s only three feet deep and tall and six feet long. It blends into the right wall of my office, surrounded by polished bookshelves that carry an aroma of old books.
I paid more than I should have simply to put on display. All any of this is a façade. People’s perceptions are their reality. And so I paint the picture they need to see so I can use them as I see fit. The expensive books and paintings, polished furniture made of rare wood… All of it is bullshit.
Except for the box. The story that came with it will stay with me forever. In all of the years, it’s the one of the few memories that I can pin point as a defining moment. The box never leaves me.
The words from the man who gave it to me are still as clear as is the memory of his pale green eyes, glassed over as he told me his story.
About how it kept
him safe when he was a child. He told me how his mother had shoved him in it to protect him.
I swallow thickly, feeling my throat tighten and the cord in my neck strain with the memory. He painted the picture so well.
He told me how he clung to his mother seeing how panicked she was. But he did as he was told, he stayed quiet in the safe box and could only listen while the men murdered his mother.
It was the story he gave me with the box he offered to barter for his life. And it reminded me of my own mother telling me goodbye before she passed.
Yes, his story was touching, but the defining moment is when I put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger regardless.
He tried to steal from me and then pay me with a box as if the money he laundered was a debt or a loan. William was good at stealing, at telling stories, but the fucker was a dumb prick.
I didn’t get to where I am by playing nicely and being weak. That day I took the box that saved him as a reminder of who I was. Who I needed to be.
I made sure that box has been within my sight for every meeting I’ve had in this office. It’s a reminder for me so I can stare at it in this god forsaken room as I make deal after deal with criminal after criminal and collect wealth and power like the dusty old books on these shelves.
It cost me a fortune to get this office exactly how I wanted. But if it were to burn down, I could buy it all over again.
Everything except for that box.
“You really think they’re going through with it?” I hear Daniel, my brother, before I see him. The memories fade in an instant and my heart beat races faster than the tick tock of that fucking clock.
It takes a second for me to be conscious of my facial expression, to relax it and let go of the anger before I can raise my gaze to his.
“With the war and the deal? You think he’ll go through with it?” he clarifies.
A small huff leaves me, accompanied by a smirk, “He wants this more than anything else,” I answer him.
Daniel stalks into the room slowly, the heavy door to my office closing with a soft kick of his heel before he comes to stand across from me.
“And you’re sure you want to be right in the middle of it?”
I lick my lower lip and stand from my desk, stretching as I do and turning my gaze to the window in my office. I can hear Daniel walking around the desk as I lean against it and cross my arms.
“We won’t be in the middle of it. It’ll be the two of them, our territory is close, but we can stay back.”
“Bullshit. He wants you to fight with him and he’s going to start this war tonight and you know it.”
I nod slowly, the smell of Romano’s cigars filling my lungs at the memory of him.
“There’s still time to call it off,” Daniel says and it makes my brow pinch and place a crease on my forehead. He can’t be that naïve.
It’s the first time I’ve really looked at him since he’s been back. He spent years away. And every fucking day I fought for what we have. He’s gone soft. Or maybe it’s Addison that’s turned him into the man standing in front of me.
“This war has to happen.” My words are final and the tone is one not to be questioned. I may have grown this business on fear and anger. Each step forward followed by the hollow sound of a body dropping behind me, but that’s not how it started. Y can’t build an empire with blood stained hands and not expect death to follow you.
His dark eyes narrow as he pushes off the desk and moves closer to the window, his gaze flickering between me and the meticulously maintained garden stories below us.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” his voice is low and I barely hear it. He doesn’t look back at me and a chill flows down my arms and the back of my neck as I take in his stern expression.
It takes me back years ago. Back to when we had a choice and chose wrong.
When whether or not we wanted to go through with it meant something.
“There are men to the left of us,” I tell him as I step forward and close the distance between us. “There are men to the right. There is no possible outcome where we don’t pick a side.”
He nods once and slides his thumb across the stubble on his chin before looking back at me. “And the girl?” he asks me, his eyes piercing into mine and reminding me that both of us survived, both of us fought, and each of us has a tragic path that led us to where we are today.
“Aria?” I dare to speak her name and the sound of my smooth voice seems to linger in the space between us. I don’t wait for him to acknowledge me, or her rather.
“She has no choice.” My voice tightens as I say the words.
Clearing my throat, I lean my palms against the window, feeling the frigid fall beneath my hands and leaning forward to see Addison beneath us, Daniel’s Addison. “What do you think they would have done to Addison if they’d succeeded in taking her?”
His jaw hardens but he doesn’t answer my question. Instead he replies, “We don’t know who it was who tried to take her from me.”
I shrug as if it’s semantics and not at all relevant. “Still. Women aren’t meant to be touched, but they went for Addison first.”
“That doesn’t make it right,” Daniel says with indignation in his tone.
“Isn’t it better she come to us?” My head tilts as I question him and this time he takes a moment to respond.
“She’s not one of us. Not like Addison and you know what Romano expects you to do with her.”
“Yes, the daughter of the enemy…” My heart beats hard in my chest, and the steady rhythm reminds me of the ticking of the clock. “I know exactly what he wants me to do with her.”
Click here to keep reading Merciless!
Sneak Peek at It’s Our Secret
From USA Today bestselling author W Winters comes an emotionally gripping, standalone, romantic suspense, USA Today bestseller!
I lied so much, I’d forgotten what the truth even was.
I think that’s why fate sent me Dean.
Every lie I told, he saw through it.
In his heart, he knew I was broken; he felt my pain as if it was his.
He makes me want to be better and stop hiding behind the pain of what happened.
But some lies are too much to bare.
It doesn’t matter if you’ve fallen in love or not.
Some lies are unforgivable.
“A daring book that I couldn't put down for a second. Willow Winters has written a thought provoking, darker, compelling novel that has won me over. It’s a slow build up of emotionally crafted turmoil of mystery, audacious and fearless characters and plot.” - Wit and Wonder Books
Preface
Allison
From the moment I laid eyes on Dean, I knew he’d be trouble.
I didn’t anticipate this though.
I didn’t expect to let it go this far.
I didn’t want him to be a casualty of my lies.
Someone to my right clears their throat, and I look down the row of people. A woman looks back at me; she’s older with graying hair and a thick sweater that climbs up her neck, practically swallowing the frail woman. She holds my gaze, narrowing her eyes and thinning her lips into a flat line.
I know what she’s thinking. What they’re all thinking, and it makes me want to throw up.
She asked for it.
They have no idea.
No one does.
Not even Dean, even as he sits on trial.
They can judge me because I deserve it.
If I could go back, I would.
I close my eyes and try to hold back the tears, the pain. Every moment that led us here is another chink in my armor. Picking away as the events flash before my eyes.
When I open them, through the haze of tears scattered on my lashes, I see Dean looking back at me.
I’m so fucking selfish, and that’s what pushed me over the edge.
I knew Dean would be trouble, but I didn’t think I’d fall in love.
I just
ified using him. I craved his touch so much that I pulled him into my web.
“I’m sorry,” I mouth and Dean’s expression slips.
They’re right when they say I asked for it.
I didn’t just ask for it, though.
No, no.
I fucking prayed for it.
Also by Willow Winters
Merciless World Standalone Novels:
It’s Our Secret
Possessive
A Kiss to Tell
Start Carter & Aria’s saga with Merciless, today for 99c!
Merciless
Heartless
Breathless
Endless
Jase & Bethany - Irresistible Attraction Trilogy
A Single Glance
A Single Kiss
A Single Touch
Standalone Novels:
Broken
Forget Me Not
Sins and Secrets Duets:
Imperfect (Imperfect Duet book 1)
Unforgiven (Imperfect Duet book 2)
Damaged (Damaged Duet book 1)
Scarred (Damaged Duet book 2)
Willow Winters
Standalone Novels:
Tell Me to Stay
Second Chance
Knocking Boots
Promise Me
Burned Promises
Forsaken, cowritten with B. B. Hamel