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Hearts Unbound Page 11


  Jessica knew the moment his strength return to him. His kisses became more urgent, demanding her response. Jessica kissed him back, her desire to join with him suddenly overwhelming her. She rejoiced at the contact of his skin as he trailed his hand up her inner thigh.

  “I fear we will not make it back to Crichton Manor before noon,” he whispered hotly in her ear. “Our guests are likely worried as to where we have disappeared off to.”

  “I do not care, Jareth,” she told him, boldly pulling his tunic out of his waistband to caress the soft skin of his belly. “Right now, I just want to be with you.”

  “And so you shall be, sweet lady, so you shall.”

  It didn’t take long at all before Jessica’s pleasured gasps filled the clearing as she made love to Jareth Moreland, her husband, her shelmir, and the only man she ever truly loved.

  Epilogue

  Seattle , Washington , Present Day

  Cassie spotted the sexy stranger from clear across the room. Clothed from head to toe in black, he resembled a creature of the night; suave, graceful, and menacing. His dark hair curled a bit at the collar, and was so thick that Cassie found herself wondering what it would feel like to run her fingers through it. His eyes seemed as black as the rest of him as he stared right back at her, lifting his brandy snifter to her in a silent toast, a small smile slowly playing on his lips.

  Whirling around, Cassie found herself shaking and took a few deep breaths to calm down. Dear Lord, the man had caught her staring at him. And he had stared right back. She couldn’t help but wonder at the light in his eyes and what his silent salute had meant, if anything. Was he saying hello? Was he mocking her? Truth be told, he had aroused her to the point of wanting to jump on him from across the room and that was with only a look. She imagined what he could do if he actually touched her.

  “Excuse me, miss?” A deep voice spoke behind her, sending shivers up Cassie’s spine. She knew it was the man she’d just been staring at. She had no idea how she knew, but she’d lay money down that it was him. Her hands trembled as she turned to look at him.

  “Yes?” Wow, the man was even more striking up close. Dark hair, grey eyes, chiseled brow… Not to mention his physique. Her mouth dropped open of its own accord. Staring at him, she couldn’t help but question if she knew him. A feeling of familiarity came over her.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” The man lifted his mouth in a half-grin that stopped her heart. Glancing back at her friend Tina, her eyes widened. Tina waved her hand.

  “Go, crazy woman!” she said. Her co-workers at the table chuckled amongst themselves. Cassie was here in celebration of her friend’s promotion, and didn’t want to be rude and leave to have a drink with some hot-looking man.

  “Are you sure?”

  “If you don’t go, I will,” Tina said, giving her a mock scowl. Cassie grinned and grabbed her purse. Tossing some money down for her food, she stood from her chair.

  “Congratulations on your promotion,” she said to her friend.

  “Thanks, hun. But don’t worry about me. Go have your drink!” Tina gave Cassie an exaggerated wink, making her laugh.

  Turning toward the unbelievably sexy man behind her, she allowed him to lead her to the bar, where they found two stools and sat. Once they ordered their drinks, he offered her his hand.

  “The name’s Laith Moreland,” he said.

  “Cassidy Chapman, but everyone calls me Cassie. Laith. That’s an unusual name.”

  He shrugged. “It’s a family name. Has something to do with one of my long-dead ancestors.”

  “Oh?” Cassie asked, eating one of the free pretzels in a nearby bowl.

  “Yeah. He died tragically—some freak horseback-riding incident.”

  Cassie gasped, her eyes wide. “How horrible!”

  “Yeah. His brother was determined to keep the name in the family, I guess.”

  “Wow.”

  Laith nodded and snatched a pretzel himself.

  Cassie stared into his eyes and couldn’t quite shake the feeling of familiarity she had. After a few more moments of silence passed, she asked, “Do I know you from somewhere?”

  “No, I don’t believe so. Why?”

  “I just…I don’t know. When I saw you sitting at that booth over there, it felt as though I knew you, as if I…”

  “What?” he asked when she trailed off.

  “You’ll think it’s silly.”

  “No I won’t!” he said, chuckling.

  “It felt as if, well, as if I had come home.” Cassie’s face flamed a bright red. Here she was, telling a perfect stranger her intimate thoughts.

  Laith looked down at his glass and twirled it on the bar in slow circles. “I felt the same way too,” he said softly, glancing back at her. “Which is why I saluted you with my brandy. I caught your eye. I wanted you to keep looking at me.”

  Cassie shivered at the intense look in his eyes. It was crazy, she knew, but her skin tingled when she was near him, and she wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss him. As if he’d read her mind, he leaned over himself. Cassie didn’t even think twice. She met him halfway.

  Once their lips touched, it was as if a dam broke. Strange scenes filled her head, scenes of fancy dresses and carriages, horses and large, looming manor homes. The longer she kissed him, the more scenes passed in front of her eyes.

  She could feel his tongue sweep into her mouth and she was powerless to protest, welcoming it with her own. She didn’t know what was happening, but she shivered when a scene flashed before her of this very man, laying her down in a garden of flowers and making love to her in the warm sunlight.

  Laith ended the kiss and stared into her eyes, holding onto the back of her head, as if to make sure she couldn’t get away from him.

  “What was that?” she asked breathlessly.

  “I don’t know,” he panted, looking just as confused as she.

  Caressing his face, she whispered, “I think I do know you. Do you believe in past lives?”

  “I do now,” he said, making her chuckle. She kissed him once more, and she knew in that moment her feelings for him were far too strong. If her body didn’t know him, her soul certainly did.

  “Laith,” she sighed against his lips.

  “Cassandra,” he answered, pulling her closer.

  Even though Cassandra wasn’t her name, it seemed so right.

  “My name is Cassidy,” she corrected.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, running his fingers through her hair.

  “Don’t be,” she said. “It seems right coming from you.”

  He gave her a grin.

  Biting her lip, Cassie took a deep breath and said, “Come back to my place.”

  He raised a brow, obviously shocked.

  “I live just up the street. You got a car?”

  Laith nodded. “Are you sure?”

  She gave him a sensual grin. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my entire life,” she said boldly, grabbing his hand and leading him out to the parking lot.

  Throughout the evening, one word kept repeating itself over and over inside her head. And even later, after they were both lying naked and spent on her bed, she kissed his bare chest as he watched her with pleasured eyes.

  “I am yours,” she whispered. “My shelmir.”

  About the Author

  To learn more about Rebecca Goings, please visit http://www.rebeccagoings.com. Send an email to Rebecca at rebeccagoings@gmail.com or join her Google group to join in the fun with other readers as well as Rebecca! http://groups.google.com/group/themagicofromance

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  An ancient prophecy. A sheikh's passion.

  One woman will ignite the flame that fulfills them both.
r />   Mirage

  © 2007 Monica Burns

  A man without a country…

  Half Bedouin, half English, the Viscount Blakeney has always been Sheikh Altair Mazir in his heart. A victim of prejudice from both cultures, he’s learned to trust no one. But a feisty American archeologist and the heat she ignites in him is about to change all that. And more.

  An independent woman hunting for a Pharaoh’s treasure…

  Alexandra Talbot is used to men questioning her intelligence simply because of her sex. But the mysterious Viscount isn’t like other men. He never questions her ability to find the lost city of Ramesses II, only her resistance to the sinful pleasure of his touch.

  An ancient prophecy…

  Bound by a Pharaoh’s prophecy, desire flares between them beneath the desert stars. But murder and betrayal turn their quest into a deadly game, pushing their fragile trust to the breaking point.

  Their survival hinges on rebuilding that trust.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Mirage:

  His tall figure filled the doorway as she flung the door open. She fought to keep breathing. There was only one word to describe him. Magnificent. Unable to take her eyes off him, she struggled to calm her erratic heartbeat. Somewhere in the back of her mind, curiosity made her question why he was dressed like one of the natives. The thought was a fleeting one as she fought to keep her senses from responding to his commanding presence.

  Dressed in the dark blue, flowing garment of the Mazir, he looked as if he had been born to wear the desert clothing. No longer the English lord, he was as lean and predatory as a leopard. A utility belt filled with rifle cartridges crossed his chest, while a pistol was tucked into a belt around his waist.

  His entire appearance emanated a sense of danger and excitement. Beneath his eyes, Mazir tribal symbols stained his brown cheeks. His wavy brown hair, no longer restrained by a ribbon, tumbled down over his shoulders. The image of spiking her fingers through the dark, glossy curls sent a stream of liquid fire through her.

  Good lord, she barely knew the man, and yet here she was ready to offer herself to him. She drew in a sharp breath, as she looked up into the warmth of his brown eyes.

  “Good morning,” he murmured. Alarm bells went off in her head at the sound of his husky greeting. If she were to open her mouth, she was certain more than a dozen butterflies would flee their captivity in her stomach.

  “Good…morning.” The breathless quality of her voice dismayed her. Oh God, she sounded as flustered as she felt. The sudden glint of satisfaction in his eyes made the fluttering wings in her stomach stir restlessly. Her voice had revealed far too much about the effect he had on her. Desperate to regain control of her senses, she swallowed the sensual urges threatening to take control.

  “I…you…you look so different. Not like yourself at all.”

  “And how do you think I should look, Alex?” His eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her intently.

  The dark, disturbing expression in his gaze sent her heart slamming into her chest. Tiny frissons caressed her skin as his gaze slid over her. Aroused by the mysteriously hungry look in his eyes, she shook her head as if doing so would help clear her thoughts as well as the desire curling inside her.

  “It’s just that you surprised me. I wasn’t expecting to see you dressed like a Mazir.”

  “I find the gambaz cooler and more comfortable than my English clothes.”

  She nodded at his explanation. Oddly enough, he did look comfortable. Far more so than when he was wearing the starched shirt and tie he usually wore. The gambaz enhanced the dangerous edge of his darkly handsome features.

  Did the man have any idea how devastating he was dressed like a Bedouin? There was a wicked savagery about him that tantalized her senses and made her breath hitch. Trying to suppress the urge to reach out and touch him, she inhaled a deep breath.

  “Is something wrong, Alex?” The gleam in his eye made the palms of her hands damp.

  “No, not at all.” She forced the words past her lips, alarmed by the need building inside her.

  A brown finger traced the outline of her lips as he leaned toward her. Cedarwood and sweet fennel tempted her senses. “Liar,” he whispered, as a smile of satisfaction curved his mouth. “Your heart is beating as if you were a jerboa caught in the claws of a leopard.”

  His analogy was ironic given she’d likened him to a leopard earlier. Especially when she really did feel just like a mouse trapped beneath his masterful gaze. The dark brown eyes holding her gaze hostage glittered with a dangerous light. Drinking in the masculine scent of him, her lungs tugged in a sharp breath of need. She wanted him to kiss her. Appalled, she tried to find a footing on the slippery path she was treading. Diversion. That’s what was called for—a diversion.

  “I…I…why do you wear the Mazir marks on your cheeks?” She almost blew out a whoosh of air as she asked the question with great relief. That would help lessen this tension between them.

  “They reflect the sunlight and protect my eyes. But they’re also a sign of my respect for the Mazir.” He arched an eyebrow at her as his finger trailed along the edge of her jaw in a slow, seductive stroke. The touch singed every nerve in his path. “But that’s not what you really wanted to ask me, is it?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She took a quick step back from him.

  “Ah, so you didn’t want to ask when we were to visit the Pyramids. As you wish.” As he turned away from her, she sprang forward. The man was tormenting her by making her think he wouldn’t take her to the Pyramids. Determined to halt his departure, she clutched at his arm. How soft the material of his robe was beneath her fingers.

  “Don’t you dare tease me like that!”

  A quick flame came to life in his dark eyes as he turned and looked down into her face. The slight smile curving his lips made her heart race. The man was far too attractive for his own good.

  “How would you like me tease you, Alex?”

  She took a quick step backward at the surprising question. With an abrupt shake of her head, she pressed her hand against his chest as he followed her.

  “I don’t…I meant…I want to visit the Pyramids.”

  “I see. So you weren’t hoping I’d find some other way to tease you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she spluttered.

  His dark hand reached out to caress her cheek. No. If he kissed her again, she wouldn’t be able to control the desire shooting through every part of her body. She took another step back. Once again, he followed her. Now the space between them was almost nonexistent. He lowered his head. Dear Lord, he smelled wonderful. He had an earthy male scent that tormented her senses. A shiver pulsed through her as the warmth of his breath stirred the wisps of hair at her ear.

  “Don’t you? That’s disappointing because I’m finding it increasingly difficult to get the image of your luscious body out of my head.”

  She gasped at the seductive heat of his words. He nipped at her ear lobe and reason slipped out of her head.

  “Do you know what I dreamed about last night, Alex? I dreamed I was sucking on those beautiful, dusky nipples of yours.”

  “Oh, God,” she whispered, unable to say anything else.

  “Can you imagine what else I dreamed about? Shall I tell you?”

  Don’t moan, Alex. Whatever you do, don’t moan. She swayed into him, her fingers splayed across the upper part of his chest.

  No.

  No. This wasn’t good at all.

  The best way to catch a wolf? Use your heart as bait.

  To Catch a Wolf

  © 2007 Colette Denee

  Five years ago Braith Merlow walked away from the love of his life, and it wasn’t by choice. Unable to tell her the reason why, he threw his things into a duffle bag, swung his leg over the seat of his motorcycle, and headed for sanctuary. The last thing he expects, after all this time, is to find her standing in his bedroom.

  Sor
cha Lynnae wants only one thing from her former lover: the Masti. She needs the magical necklace to save her life, and the Vampyr Queen has given her two weeks to find it. When she steps out of Braith’s shower and into his arms, her “business-only” trip turns into pure pleasure.

  With their hearts on the line, Braith and Sorcha set out to pursue their separate agendas. A pinch of magic, a hint of lust, and they’re well on their way to catching a wolf.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for To Catch a Wolf:

  Braith left the bar and headed for home once again. Twice now he’d started to go, yet each time his feet found their own way back to the bar. His mind wasn’t on work. Indecision kept turning him around.

  Sorcha permeated his every thought, his every breath. Part of him was afraid to go home and find her gone once again, like a ghost. The other, larger part, feared she would still be there. Hell if he knew what to do with the woman, or what to say. Did Hallmark make a greeting card that read, “I’m sorry I abandoned you. Sorry I left you to them. Sorry I never told you the truth before I said goodbye. Now go home again before I do something stupid, like start kissing you and never stop”?

  Several minutes later, he pulled open the screen door to his house. He could hear the shower running, so he occupied himself with household chores until the water shut off. When he figured he’d stalled long enough, Braith walked into his bedroom.

  “Sorcha? I’m home,” he called by way of warning.

  She emerged from the bathroom wrapped in nothing but his small, blue bath towel. The swell of her breast rose above her fist, skin flushed a soft pink from the heat of the shower. The long lines of her tanned legs came together as she tried to keep her body hidden in the terry cloth. A blush stained her cheeks, deep enough to be seen even through the bruises. Sorcha cast an accusing glance his direction.

  “What?” He smiled and held up his hands in innocence. “I warned you I was here.”

  “I didn’t hear you.”

  “Not my fault.”