Spotlight: Golden Crown by Kathleen Maree

(Arthur Academy, #2)
Publication date: November 25th 2021
Genres: New Adult, Romance

Synopsis:

“If the world is full of monsters, how do we know who wears the crown…” 

Hendrix:
In the dark of the night he bared his soul, delivering a shocking event that should’ve changed everything. 

So why in the light of day, does everything appear the same…? 

The further I’m immersed in this world he calls the ‘elite’, the more I don’t understand. And it’s not only his world I’m afraid I’m falling for, but the Golden Crown himself as well.  

But Pax still has secrets.  

And I want him to trust me, like a flame wanting fire. 

Because despite his world being nothing as it seems, I’m not sure I could walk away even if I wanted to.  

Because the truth be told, I don’t want to. 

I want him. 
 

Paxton:
In the dark of the night I revealed a truth, delivering the brutal reality of what the elite really means. 

So why in the light of day, does everything appear the same…? 

It’s the same cat and mouse games, and the same political, power tricks where the Golden Crown is all they see. It’s all they want to see. 

Except for her. 

But there are things I can’t tell her. Things I don’t think she’ll understand yet. 

And I need her to trust me, like a fire needing flame. 

Because despite me knowing what this world does to those who fall victim to it, I’m not sure I could walk away from Hendrix, even if I wanted to.  

Because the truth be told, I don’t want to. 

I want her.

Excerpt

I put aside the questions I wanted to ask her about how those scars got on her perfect skin and shoved down the anger trying to take over when all I wanted to do was to kill the one responsible for hurting her. 

Because that’s not what she needed right now. 

But I swear on everything I am that no one will ever lay a hand on this girl as long as I’m breathing. 

She was mine.

Mine to protect. Mine to care for. 

Mine to love.

That last thought was what I let soar to the surface because this girl beneath me meant more than anything I would have ever dreamed.

My palm drifts from her cheek to the side of her head, where my fingers glide down the braid she always wears. A simple thing to most people, but for someone like me who was taught how to read situations like it was my second nature, I knew the reason she wore her hair like this wasn’t because she liked the style. From what I’d discovered, I knew Hendrix had a story, but I never dreamed that a girl like her would have endured this much pain. 

This much torment. 

By the hands of someone who was supposed to protect her too. This girl had a strength and a beauty inside of her that went so far beyond the realm of what I would’ve thought possible, that I almost felt like I wasn’t deserving of her. But to have her look at me like I’m the only star shining in her sky, and for her to let me into her deepest fears, had me wanting to do everything in my power to make sure it stayed that way.

No matter the cost.

When my hands find the end of her braid, I tug on her bottom lip with my teeth before pressing a final kiss there and pulling back. My eyes were seeking an answer to my question as I finger the hair-tie that holds her hair in her safe place down her side.

“May I?” I croak, like it was a moment I would relive forever.

Her eyes widen before she nods shakily, and after a moment I carefully slide the tie out of her hair. I run my fingers through the long, black strands until it fans out beside her, and do nothing but gaze down at this goddess from my god-damn dreams. She nervously slips off her glasses and rests them on the table beside us, before running her hands up my naked chest to the tips of my shoulders.

“Hendrix, I…” I start, but before I can get out more words, she initiates a kiss and pulls my head down to hers. I ease more of my weight on her, careful not to crush her but needing to feel as much of her as possible. My palms cup her thighs, squeezing her ass until my hands are gripping her waist beneath her sweatshirt. She shivers when her bare stomach presses against mine. I move my assault from her lips to a path down her neck and feel her legs falling slightly open so I can settle my body between hers. My fingers move up her stomach until I’m feeling every inch of the bare skin on her breasts, and I take my time kneading them until I earn myself the reward of her soft moans and breathy whispers when she says my name.

“Pax….”

I slowly tug her hoodie up and over her head until her luscious hair cascades around us like hells waterfall. 

My dark angel sent only for me.

Our mouths and tongues are at war with one another, like they would never get enough, until I feel her tiny hands head south down my chest and stomach until she reaches the top of my jeans.

And I don’t stop her.

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About the Author

Kathleen grew up in the south-western suburbs of Sydney, where family holidays by the beach and tormenting her two younger brothers, was how she spent her early years. But at the young age of 11, when she submitted a short story to a talented writing competition through the NSW schools program, not only did she win it, but she quickly found a love for it as well.

Throughout her schooling, writing was a hobby, along with sketching and various sports. But fast forward to her adult years when she moved to Europe to follow her husbands field hockey dream, and her love for writing surged to the surface.

Her debut story, Cut, was penned over two years where her hobby seemed to lead to the completion of Pennys' world. The rest of the series came the following year.

Kathleen enjoys writing stories full of self-discovery, emotional journeys and of course, love.

Something else she loves is hearing from her readers, so feel free to follow her blog or drop her an email.

For signed copies of her novels, more information about upcoming stories, or to follow her blog, please visit her website www.kathleenmaree.weebly.com

Dream often. Believe always.

Kathleen xo

Connect:

http://www.kathleenmaree.com/

https://www.facebook.com/kathleen.maree.author

https://twitter.com/kathleen_maree

https://www.instagram.com/kathleenmaree.author/

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13919300.Kathleen_Mare_

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Spotlight: An Unexpected Distraction by Catherine Bybee

Family secrets and fresh romance collide in this heartpounding Richter series installment by New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Catherine Bybee

About An Unexpected Distraction

Jacqueline "Jax" Simon knows how to expose secrets: she's a skilled operative with MacBain Security and Solutions. When Jax hears her parents are divorcing, she races to London to find out why. She's determined to learn the truth, especially when her investigation uncovers why her parents sent her to Richter, The German military school that made her a fighter.

Andrew Craig collects Jax at Heathrow Airport as a favor. He's heard she's a handful, but he didn't know she's dangerously gorgeous too. His instant attraction could change his life...or end it.

Jax doesn't want to fall for Andrew, but soon he's worming his way into her life. Together, they infiltrate Richter to discover if it has returned to its covert purpose: training children to be spied and assassins and blackmailing parents to look the other way. As the attraction between the two intensifies, so do the secrets exploding all around them. How deadly those secrets—and who will survive?

Excerpt

Andrew stood aside, put his beverage down. “I’ll walk you out.”

Outside the bar, the cold, damp London air snapped her spine straight.

“Where is your car?”

Jax pointed across the street and up toward her brother’s place. “I’m capable of getting there on my own.”

“I would suspect anyone who jumps out of airplanes and plays on America’s military bases is capable of more than crossing the street.”

“Then why are you out here?”

The light turned green and they started walking.

“I want to help.”

“Help with what?”

“Your investigation. That’s why Harry asked you to come, isn’t it?”

“Is that what he told you?”

“He told me he needed family reinforcements to get his dad to move out of his flat.”

That sounded like the words her brother would use.

“I have a feeling my father is going to be just as helpful putting this to rest as my mother.”

“He didn’t seem excited to see you.”

“Thank you for pointing that out.”

Andrew paused his step. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive.”

She stopped, turned to look at him. “I’m pretty sure I remember telling you my family was cold. Back when I thought you were a driver who didn’t know them personally.”

“Right. I’m sorry about that, too.”

Jax started walking again. “I tipped you.”

He followed. “I’ll pay you back.”

They crossed another intersection, and she slowed her pace as the rental car came into view.

She wondered if there was a way for Andrew to help her. “Do you work with my dad?”

He shook his head. “No. I’m in finance, but with the private sector. Hedge funds have no appeal to me.”

“There’s more money in it.” Jax stopped at the car.

“And less quality of life. Look at your brother, he doesn’t have any hair left.”

“True.”

Andrew reached out his hand.

She looked at it.

He wiggled his fingers as if asking for something. “Your phone. In case you need backup.”

“There’s an entire team here in London.”

He pointed to his chest. “But only one of me.”

That sounded like a line. But she handed him her phone anyway.

He pressed a button to power it on, then turned it toward her so it would open.

A sly smile sat on his lips as he put in his phone number.

When his phone buzzed, he silenced it quickly, obviously pleased with himself.

“Was this about me getting ahold of you, or you getting ahold of me?”

“Yes.”

Jax narrowed her gaze, saw the same attraction she had the night they’d met. “I’m not here for that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His eyes twitched. His smile grew.

Instead of calling him out, she reached for her keys.

He opened the door and waited for her to get behind the wheel “Petrol,” he said.

Jax looked up at him, confused. “What?”

“My last credit card transaction was at the petrol station.”

It was hard not to smile. “You’re an interesting man, Andrew.”

He leaned down with a knowing smile. “You have beautiful legs, Jax.”

She was blushing . . . she could feel the heat in her cheeks.

He closed the door and stepped back.

Jax drove away without saying goodbye, knowing full well she’d see him again.

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About the Author

Catherine is a #1 Wall Street Journal, Amazon, and Indie Reader bestselling author. In addition, her books have also graced The New York Times and USA Today bestsellers lists. In total, she has written thirty-six beloved books that have collectively sold more than 10 million copies and have been translated into more than twenty languages.

Raised in Washington State, Bybee moved to Southern California in the hope of becoming a movie star. After growing bored with waiting tables, she returned to school and became a registered nurse, spending most of her career in urban emergency rooms. She now writes full time and has penned The Not Quite series, The Weekday Brides series, The Most Likely To series, and The First Wives series.

Learn more about Catherine and her books at www.catherinebybee.com

Spotlight: The Five-Day Reunion by Mona Shroff

THE FIVE-DAY REUNION by Mona Shroff (on-sale Jan.25, Harlequin Special Edition): They ended their marriage but they never fell out of love. Law student Anita Virani hasn’t seen her ex-husband since the ink dried on their divorce papers. Now she’s agreed to pretend she’s still married to Nikhil until his sister’s wedding celebrations are over—because her former mother-in-law neglected to tell her family of their split! The closeness they share during the marriage act gives Anita new insight into the man she once loved so deeply. And reignites Nikhil’s feelings for her…

Excerpt

She was struggling with pinning pleats behind her left shoulder when Nikhil groaned. She watched him through the mirror as he slowly attempted to sit up in bed. He ended up lying back down, holding his head.

“Electrolytes next to you,” she said, finally securing the pin. The sari sagged a bit, but whatever. She’d managed it in the end.

She tried not to look at him. He was ridiculously handsome first thing in the morning. Tousled dark hair and scruff on his chin. The soft, bewildered look in his dark eyes, matched with a slight pout of full lips.

She had always loved waking up next to him. He was sexy and handsome—some mornings, she couldn’t believe her good fortune. That she was the one who got to wake up next to him every day. That she was the one he loved above all else.

Or so she had thought.

“Electrolytes.” She raised her voice a bit. “On the nightstand.”

He started at her voice, which only made him moan again. “Neets?”

He really needed to stop calling her that. “Anita,” she corrected him as she donned large dangly earrings and a necklace and reached for her matching bangles, desperately trying to ignore how sensual her name sounded in even his dry-throat voice.

“What the hell are you doing in my room?” he croaked at her.

“Right now, it’s our room. We’re supposed to be married, remember?” Her bangles jingled as she slid them on, the sound reminding her of wedded bliss.

“I’m trying to forget.”

Did he remember kissing her? Didn’t matter. “You certainly tried to forget last night.” She looked at her phone. “You have forty-five minutes to get up and be presentable. The grah shanti starts at eight thirty.”

He grunted. She walked over and shook him. He reeked of alcohol.

“What are you doing?” he grumbled, clutching his head in obvious pain.

“Tina’s first puja is in forty-five minutes, downstairs, and you need to be there.” She handed him the glass of electrolytes. “Though I get paid regardless of whether or not you show. I told your mother I would not be responsible for your attendance.”

He sat up and took the glass, looking at it like it might bite him. “I’m sure she drew up the appropriate documents.”

“No. I did.” She smirked at him.

He scowled at her as he sipped the electrolytes

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About the Author

Mona is obsessed with everything romantic, including chocolate, coffee and wine. PW calls her "a writer to watch" and Sonali Dev called her first novel, Then, Now, Always a "sweet, angsty romance." She's blessed with an amazing daughter and loving son who have both gone to college. Mona lives in Maryland with her romance-loving husband.

Spotlight: Forever Home Elysia Whisler

Publication Date: November 30, 2021

Publisher: MIRA Books

If home is where the heart is, Dogwood County may have just what Delaney Monroe needs.

Newly retired from the Marine Corps, Delaney is looking for somewhere to start over. It's not going to be easy, but when she finds the perfect place to open her dream motorcycle shop, she goes for it. What she doesn't expect is an abandoned pit bull to come with the building. The shy pup is slow to trust, but Delaney is determined to win it over.

Detective Sean Callahan is smitten from the moment he sees Delaney, but her cool demeanor throws him off his game. When her late father's vintage motorcycle is stolen from Delaney's shop, Sean gets to turn up in his element: chasing the bad guy and showing his best self to a woman who's gotten under his skin in a bad way.

Delaney isn't used to lasting relationships, but letting love in - both human and canine - helps her see that she may have found a place she belongs, forever.

Excerpt

ONE

Three Rebels Street.

Delaney should’ve known that this was where she’d end up. This was the kind of street a woman went down when all the big changes in her life were happening at once. You simply couldn’t hit a retirement ceremony, the road and a funeral all in one week and not end up on Three Rebels Street.

“Small is not the right word. I prefer quaint.” The real estate agent, Ronnie, gazed around the studio apartment situated on Three Rebels Street, and nodded her head in approval. “You said it was just for you, right? Which means it’s the perfect size.”

Stop trying to sell me on the apartment. Ronnie had described it as an “alcove studio”—not just a studio—because even though the living room and kitchen were all in one large space, the bedroom was situated in a little nook, with its own door. Delaney didn’t care. The living quarters didn’t really matter. Right now the place was dumpy. Dust everywhere, the ceiling fan hanging crooked with exposed wires, and debris in the corners, like the previous tenants hadn’t taken care of the place and then left in a hurry.

“We didn’t have a chance to get this cleaned before your showing,” Ronnie said, following Delaney’s gaze. “Remember, I suggested waiting until Friday.”

But Delaney hadn’t been able to wait.

Ronnie lowered her voice to a near whisper. “They were evicted. But this place cleans up nice, I promise.”

“Can we go back down to the shop?” Delaney ran her hands through her hair, rubbing the weariness from her scalp. Ronnie had whisked them through the front bay door and up the stairs, like the apartment was the prize inside the cereal box. And Delaney supposed it was—small, an add-on, not really the point. For Delaney, the shop downstairs was the entire point.

“Of course.” Ronnie’s voice was bright, forced, like she didn’t give two shits. This was probably her last showing of the day and she wanted to get home, into a hot bath with a glass of red as soon as possible. She clacked down the stairs in her high heels.

Delaney followed, the earthy clunk of her motorcycle boots the bass drum in the cacophony of their feet.

“The shop.” Ronnie swept out her arm. “Look how much space.” There was no enthusiasm in her voice. Ronnie, who probably did mostly living spaces, had no idea how to sell the garage.

Didn’t matter. Delaney sized up the shop herself: concrete floor, perfect for working on bikes. It was kind of dinged up, but that was okay, she was already envisioning painting it beige with nonslip floor paint. Modern fluorescent lighting. Large bay door, wide-open to the cool air, excellent for ventilation. A countertop with a register. Empty shelves on one side for parts and motor clothes. Showroom space for custom bikes, and enough room for at least two workspaces out front. The rest, Delaney would provide. Hydraulic lifts. Workbench. Parts tank. Tools. Parts. Bikes.

She wanted to pinch herself, but chose a poker face. Ronnie stood in the center of the floor, like she was trying to avoid touching anything, to avoid getting any grease or oil on her smart red suit. The shop was in better condition than the apartment, but it still looked like the last occupants had left quickly—or, if they’d truly been evicted, perhaps reluctantly was a better word. Nothing important remained, but the place hadn’t been swept or washed or readied for sale in any manner.

“I’ll consider this.” Delaney rubbed her chin as she strode through the shop. “It’s a little small.” It was actually larger than she’d expected. “Light’s good, but might get a little cold in the winter.” It was winter now, technically. Mid-March. Delaney loved this time of year, when winter and spring intersected, like lovers making up after a nasty fight, the weather edgy and unpredictable.

“There’s a lot of interest in this space.” Ronnie clutched her clipboard to her chest as she looked around. She could be looking at the inside of a spaceship and hold that same expression.

Motorcycle shops were going out of business, all over the place, including the one that had recently vacated. After suddenly finding herself on Three Rebels Street last week, in front of a shop-apartment combo for sale, Delaney had done her research. The previous tenants, who she now knew had been evicted, were brothers who ran a shop by day and lived upstairs by night. They sold mostly new bikes and motorcycle gear. Repairs and maintenance were basic. Their website was still up, despite the fact that Dude’s Bikes had closed. Dude’s appeared to focus mostly on male riders, leaving Delaney to wonder if Dude’s was just about dudes or if one of the owners was, indeed, named Dude. 

“What’s the story on this place?”

Ronnie glanced at her clipboard. “The owner wants to sell. After the last renters’ lease ran out, they were given the option of buying or moving. I don’t think their shop was doing well, because they couldn’t afford to buy. They weren’t even paying their rent. And they weren’t quick about moving. The rest, as they say, is history.”

If the last motorcycle shop had failed, buying would be a gamble. But any business venture was a gamble.

Life was a gamble.

“There are a couple of people looking, after you.” Ronnie continued, “About five.”

Delaney could respect white lies in the sales biz but seriously? Five? Five or so people were waiting to check out the bike shop with an overhead apartment suitable for one small, low-maintenance tenant? She had no idea how two brothers had managed up there.

She strolled through the space, wanting a good feel. She needed to touch things, inhale the shop, draw its molecules into her lungs and taste its history before she could decide on the symbiosis of her dream space. Triple M Classics—short for Martin Monroe’s Motorcycles, named after her father—would own her as much as she would it, so this relationship was going to be deep and mutual. Through the front window, she could see the parkway that ran the length of the county. At just past eighteen-hundred hours, rush hour was a jam of red taillights in the waning daylight. No amount of time would erase Delaney’s memory of her last tour here, when she had to commute to work every day. Pure hell. It would be nice to go right upstairs to her cozy little apartment after closing, rather than having to sit in that mess.

Across the street was a row of shops, including a grocery story and an Italian restaurant. Food. Check. 

On the south side, the shop butted up to the woods, which had a downward slope of grass and weeds that led to the trees. Privacy. Double check. Plus, Delaney figured if there was a tornado, that slope could count as a ditch, and would probably be the safest place to run. She laughed at herself. This wasn’t Omaha. Virginia tornado season consisted of a few warnings that rarely panned out.

Delaney withdrew the listing, printed from the internet, from her back pocket, crammed together with a grocery receipt for extra firm tofu, Tater Tots and Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia. “This is the price, right?” She handed over the paper. Money would be tight, but Delaney should be able to manage for a little while until things got going.

That is, if she was going to do this.

Was she really going to do this?

All her adult life Delaney had moved around, from station to station. Forts, camps, bases. Not shops. Not homes. She’d never put down roots. Never had anything permanent other than her childhood home with Dad. Never owned a thing she couldn’t cram into a duffel bag.

Ronnie looked at the paper. “No.” She sniffed. “There’s a newer listing.” She flipped through her clipboard, laid it on the counter and pointed. “Here we go.”

Delaney looked at the asking price, choked a little bit, almost thanked Ronnie for her time and left. That would be the smart thing to do. Sometimes childhood dreams just needed to stay dreams.

She strode around once more, mentally saying goodbye to everything that she’d never even made hers. Even though all of this had been a panster move, it felt like all the blood in her veins had been replaced with disappointment. She stopped by the far wall, where a ratty piece of paper hung by a sliver 

of tape. Delaney smoothed out the curled edges and read the flyer.

Fiftieth Annual Classic Motorcycle Show.

Dogwood County Fairgrounds.

The event was in July. There was a contest, including prizes. The grand prize for the winning classic cycle was five grand plus a feature article in Ride magazine.

The disappointment started to drain away. Five grand wouldn’t pay all the bills, but exposure in a major motorcycle magazine would be a boon for business. Plus, there was something about that poster, just hanging there like that.

It seemed like a sign.

Excerpted from Forever Home by Elysia Whisler, Copyright © 2021 by Elysia Whisler. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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About the Author

Elysia Whisler was raised in Texas, Italy, Alaska, Mississippi, Nebraska, Hawaii, and Virginia, in true military fashion. If she's not writing she's probably working out, coaching, or massaging at her CrossFit gym. She lives in Virginia with her family, including her large brood of cat and dog rescues, who vastly outnumber the humans.

Connect:

Author Website

Twitter: @ElysiaWhisler

Facebook: @ElysiaWhisler

Instagram: @Elysiawhisler

Goodreads

Spotlight: A Proposal in Provence by Donna Alward

A PROPOSAL IN PROVENCE by Donna Alward (on-sale Jan.25, Harlequin Romance): In Donna Alward’s latest addition to the Heirs to an Empire miniseries, a life-altering secret is revealed. It all started with an escape from scandal...only to be rescued by the tycoon! PR assistant Anemone Jones loves working in Paris for the glamorous Pemberton family…until she discovers she is in fact their half sibling! When the scandal hits the tabloids, it’s her gorgeous boss, Phillippe Leroux, who sweeps her off to his idyllic home in Grasse. Phillippe’s proposal in Provence gives Annie breathing space to process her new life—and even find a place in his.

Excerpt

She was still working through a mental list when Phillipe turned up a hillside street, slowing as he drove through a residential neighborhood. The homes here were nice—stone houses with tile roofs, olive and palm trees, little gardens. Annie had never seen a palm tree in person in her life. And here she was, in the south of France, so close to the Mediterranean. Sitting in a car with the handsomest man she’d ever known.

Was it wrong that a day that was so very horrible also kind of felt like a dream come true?

“Nous sommes ici,” Phillipe said, and Annie nodded as he turned up a short drive to a welcoming-looking two-story house with wood shutters the color of whiskey barrels.

He turned off the car and let out a big breath.

“Phillipe? Before we go in, I just want to say…thank you. Thank you for caring enough to want to help me. You could have just sent me a warning, but you’re a true friend.”

He took off his seat belt and turned in his seat to face her better. “If I overstep, please tell me. I can be…bossy. Single-minded.”

That didn’t sound like the man she knew, today’s activities excepted. “I will, though I won’t have to. I just want you to know that I appreciate you so much. You have always—” Her throat tightened and she took a moment to swallow, ease the knot that had formed. “You have always treated me with caring and respect.” She gave a small, secretive smile. “Maybe more than I wanted. You’re a good man, Phillipe.”

His gaze held hers and the air in the car filled with the same delicious tension that had shimmered between them last night. But then they both sat back, knowing it would only complicate matters further if they gave in to the attraction they’d done so well ignoring all day.

“Come,” he said softly, giving her the smile she found so devastating. “Meet my parents. Be at home.”

He retrieved their bags from the back seat and then they walked up the stone path together. Phillipe lifted his hand to knock but before he could, the door swung open and a woman stood there, her smile wide, the joy in her eyes unmistakable.

“Vous êtes ici!”

He laughed, put down the bags, and pulled her into his arms.

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About the Author

Donna lives on Canada's east coast. When she's not writing she enjoys knitting, gardening, cooking, and is a Masterpiece Theater addict. While her heartwarming stories have been translated into several languages, hit bestseller lists and won awards, her favorite thing is to hear from readers! Visit her on the web at www.donnaalward.com and join her mailing list at http://www.DonnaAlward.com/newsletter.

Spotlight: An Operative's Last Stand by Juno Rushdan

AN OPERATIVE'S LAST STAND by Juno Rushdan (on-sale Jan.25, Harlequin Intrigue): A kill squad is closing in…now this team leader must risk everything for answers. Barely escaping CIA mercenaries, ex-agent Hunter Wright is after the person he thinks targeted his ops team, Topaz, for treason. Deputy director Kelly Russell is still the one woman he can't resist, but she believes Hunter went rogue. Now she's his only shot at getting the answers they need. Can they trust each other enough to save Topaz—and each other?

Excerpt

She looked up at him and smiled, her eyes a deep cobalt blue, dark fire-red hair, her skin pale and creamy, those angular features, her full pink mouth, the effortless sensuality. It all hit him like a gut punch. God, she was breathtaking.

“A drink? No.” Amusement rang in her voice, and something inside him sank.

“All right,” he said nonchalantly. He forced a smile, swallowing his disappointment, and stepped across the hall. Of course. Some things weren’t meant to be. This was for the best anyway. Everything came at a price. To be with Kelly Russell might cost him his soul. “I’ll let you get some sleep. It’s been a long week, and we’ve got an early flight.”

“Hunter,” she said, and he glanced back at her. “Who said anything about sleeping? I am interested in the euphemism behind your offer of a nightcap.” Another smile, this time flirty, sexy. Full of promise. “And to answer the second part to your question, my room.”

Every muscle in his body tightened with need, making it difficult for him to think of anything else, least of all playing it cool.

“We need to establish the rules of engagement first,” she said.

All business. Always in control. Even now. For some inexplicable reason, it only added to her allure.

He strolled back across the hall. “I’m listening.”

“This has to be a one-night-only situation. It can never happen again.”

He reached out and tucked a fiery strand that had escaped her twist behind her ear. Her skin was warm and soft, with a perfect porcelain texture. “My mother always told me, never say never.”

“I’m serious, Hunter.” She slipped her key card in the slot, unlocked the door and opened it. “One night to assuage our mutual curiosity.”

Curiosity. Chemistry. Semantics. “If we enjoy ourselves, why only one night?”

Buy on Amazon Kindle | Mass Market Paperback

About the Author

Juno Rushdan draws from real-life inspiration as a former U.S. Air Force Intelligence Officer to craft sizzling romantic thrillers. However, you won’t find any classified leaks here. Her stories are pure fiction about kick-ass heroes and strong heroines fighting for their lives as well as their happily-ever-after.