› C O M I N G S O O N ‹ Ultimatum Trifecta from ............................ › A V A I L A B L E ‹ |
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Finding Strength
Samhain Publishing
ISBN: 978-1-59998-805-4
Length: 248 Pages
Price: 13.00
Publication Date: June 24, 2008
Two Sighted
Even with her shaky past, Aislinn can’t help but to secretly want Kyle. When she witnesses his death in a vision, how can she tell him without giving away her secret or her lust?
Aislinn Campbell is a clairvoyant, the latest in a long line of first-born daughters to the previous first-born daughter. All of them have fiery red hair and a second sight. Hiding from her ex in the presence of a sexy ex-military millionaire seems the safest way to start over. Until she “sees” his death.
Kyle Turner III has been keeping a close eye on Aislinn. There’s nothing he doesn’t know about his personal assistant, including her secret and ugly past. He also wants her in his bed more than his next breath. When he receives an anonymous warning that something might happen at his annual Fourth of July bash, he doesn’t take it lightly. He knows exactly who sent the warning and he knows she’s being watched by her bastard of an ex.
After he’s injured in an accident, Kyle isn’t about to leave Aislinn unprotected for a second. He coaxes her into more than just tending to his wounds. Because making Aislinn believe in him and her together far outweighs anything her ex can dish out.
Warning, this title contains the following: explicit sex, violence and graphic language.
The Strength of Three
Christina Marshall has no desire to have a man in her life. TJ McFee and Jonathan Winslow are on a mission to change her mind.
As the daughter of an abusive drunk, Christina could care less about the lack of men in her life. So why is she having seriously erotic dreams about two of her bosses?
Jon and TJ are men who go after what they want and right now their focus is on a certain blonde-haired, brown-eyed nymph who’s done her best to blow off anyone of the XY persuasion. She’s a challenge. Never let it be said that either one of them ignore a challenge.
Their seduction is set off course when Christina’s mother dies and her father reinstates himself in her life. When accusations of murder fly, Chris must find a way to learn to trust both Jon and TJ. Her very life may depend on it.
Warning, this title contains the following: Blindfolds and bondage and sex—oh my. Ooh, and let’s not forget about the m/f/m ménage and the graphic language.
Bright light from the full moon glinted off the stainless steel appliances in the immaculate kitchen. A scream echoed through the large space, drowning out the grunts and moans coming from the two men who fought near the center, arms locked in a combative embrace. The sickening thud of flesh on flesh was followed by a spurt of blood that showered the island countertop. The man dressed in black from head to toe took advantage, flinging them both to the ground with a bone- jarring crunch. He rolled, kneeling above the other man who was wearing only boxers. With a snick, the man in black flicked open a switchblade. He swung it in an arc above his head, catching the moonlight, making the metal glow. The knife slashed through the air into the bare chest of the man below and another scream pierced the kitchen's confines.
"Yoo-hoo."
Aislinn Campbell sucked in a breath and shook her head, trying to ward off the last vestiges of the vision that plagued her yet again.
"Are you there, hon? Earth to Aislinn." Christina Marshall, the closest friend Aislinn had-the only friend she had-waved a hand in front of her face.
Aislinn flushed with embarrassment. Of all the times for her to have a vision-at work in front of numerous co-workers. Great. She could probably count the minutes until word got around about her freakiness. Fighting the urge to cover her ears against the memories of past taunts, she fisted her hands on the arms of the ergonomic computer chair.
Her gaze traveled from one side of the room to the other, taking everything in. No one seemed to be looking except for Chris and hopefully her friend was too busy picking on her fingernail to notice Aislinn's momentary distress.
"So how late did he make you stay last night," Chris asked, amusement touching her voice.
Aislinn cleared her throat. Chris didn't act like anything weird had happened. "What?"
Chris dropped her hand and propped a butt cheek on the corner of Aislinn's desk. She looked her typical bored self, but Aislinn could see her attention was focused on something. Her gaze darted between the bank of elevators and Aislinn.
If she didn't know better, Aislinn might be offended. Despite her protests, Chris was seriously interested in one of their boss's bodyguards. Aislinn hadn't figured out which one yet. And she didn't care. No man would ever have that kind of hold over her again.
"You know," Chris murmured. "Last night. The meeting. How long did he make you stay?"
"Oh. That. Not too late. Seven twenty-eight."
Chris laughed. "Not too late, but late enough you noticed the exact minute you walked out the door? Were his cronies with him?" she sneered.
Aislinn straightened the paperwork on her desk. Not even eight o'clock in the morning and already Mr. Turner had four messages. Her mouth went dry thinking about Kyle Turner III. Somehow she had to warn him without drawing attention to herself.
Right. And just how did she go about that? Please watch yourself Mr. Turner. I think someone's going to kill you in a kitchen.
That was grounds for whacko of the century if she ever heard one. She could see her padded cell now. Either that or his cronies, as Chris referred to them, would call her an accomplice and have her locked away in a different kind of cell. One with bars.
Either way she wouldn't have to worry ever again about David. Her ex would have no access to her in jail.
Aislinn forced herself to unclench the arms of the chair she still held.
"Man you are in another world today. What's up chickie?" Chris crossed her arms over her chest.
"Nothing," Aislinn mumbled, rearranging her desk again. "I've got a lot to do today and you're sitting on my faxes."
Chris lifted her butt and Aislinn yanked the papers out from under her.
"Were his cronies with him? Did they walk you to your car at least? Do you think his cronies ever leave his side, or do you think the three of them sleep together too." Chris wondered out loud.
Aislinn snickered. "Yes, yes, and I have a feeling none of those men have ever been near a bed at the same time. Well, a real bed anyway. Probably when they were in the military they spent a lot of time watching each other's backs when they slept." She paused and cocked her head, thinking about something she'd seen a few weeks ago involving a blonde bombshell of a model and the cronies. "On second thought, TJ and Jonathan might be in cahoots." She winked at Chris. Talking about the two men was bound to raise Chris's hackles.
"No way."
Aislinn hid a smile at Chris' outright denial. "I was kidding," she consoled and watched Chris' shoulders droop. A second later her friend's back went ramrod straight.
"Speak of the devils."
Aislinn looked through the wall of glass at the three men making their way across the expansive lobby from the elevators. Her pulse sped up and her breath hitched the same way it did every time Kyle Turner III came near. Which was strange considering she never wanted to be with a man again.
"Way too much testosterone right there if you ask me," Chris grunted.
"For someone who says they can't stand TJ and Jonathan, you sure talk about them a lot." Aislinn stood and gathered up the message slips, a memo pad and a pencil. Kyle was a creature of habit and liked to have her attention first thing in the morning.
She shrugged off the feeling he asked her to join him for coffee for more than catching up on what she'd done in the hour before he arrived.
Chris' mouth opened and closed and her cheeks turned red. "I do not," she hissed, keeping her voice low as they drew nearer.
"Uh-huh." Aislinn agreed.
"Morning ladies," Kyle said, sauntering up to them like he owned the place.
Oh yeah. He did. Anybody who employed two bodyguards on a 'round the clock basis certainly owned the business.
"Lunch, Ais? Later? Right. I'll see you then," Chris babbled and hurried off, gazed glued to the floor.
Totally unaffected by TJ and Jonathan.
"Are you ready?" Kyle's deep voice rolled through her body giving her goose bumps and the insane thought he was talking about more than work.
"Absolutely," she said with a smile and fought the temptation to lean into the warm hand he placed at the small of her back as he guided her to his office.
Soft rock blared from a pair of onstage speakers. Christina Marshall rubbed at her temple, trying to ease the growing ache. She would win an Oscar for tonight’s outstanding performance. No one had noticed her underlying unease. At least, she didn’t think anyone had.
She glanced around the rented reception room again. As parties went for landing a monstrous account, this one beat all, Chris guessed, since she wasn’t into this kind of thing. Her coworkers danced and talked and seemed to truly be having a good time. All while drowning themselves in whatever they could purchase from the cash bar. One big Friday after-work happy hour.
Christina had to admit that everyone did appear happy. Except for her. No! You do look happy, Marshall. Suck it up. One hour. You only have to make it one hour before slipping out. That was the time she’d set for herself and she was going to stick to it even if it killed her. Chris slapped a goofy smile on her face and hoped it didn’t make her look like she needed a straitjacket.
Yep, she was most definitely happy. Happy as a clam. Happy as a lark.
Right. She would be just as happy to have a huge, hairy wart suddenly show up on her nose tomorrow morning.
Maybe clenching her glass full of now-warm Coke hard enough to shatter it constituted happiness. Or grinding her teeth and jaw into oblivion. Nope, had to be the sharp pain settling smack dab between her eyes because she couldn’t stop darting her attention from one coworker to the next, making sure they didn’t bring their drunken, happy asses any closer to her.
Happy.
Her best friend, Aislinn, now fiancée to their boss, Kyle Turner III, sauntered over. "Your smile’s fading, sweetie. You’re supposed to at least look like you’re having fun."
"I am having fun." A regular ol’ barrel of monkeys.
"Right. That’s why you’re coming across like someone killed your puppy." Aislinn sipped her ice tea, a drink Chris knew her friend had chosen in deference to her.
"You leave Clodhopper out of this," Christina half-grumbled, half-laughed. The woman had it all. A great fiancé, a fantastic house or…mansion might be a better word, and the ability to see the future whenever said ability decided to rear its not-always-friendly head. Hell, Aislinn had saved Kyle’s life a few months back thanks to an early warning.
But once upon a time, she’d been in a very similar situation as Chris. Afraid of men because her sadistic ex-husband had stalked her with the intent to possess her no matter what it took. Chris didn’t have an ex, she had a bastard of a father who drank too much and took out his anger with his fists. Usually on her mother’s face. And yet, her mother loved the asshole and refused to leave him. Unlike Chris, who’d gotten out the first chance she’d had.
Aislinn sighed and set her tea down to take Chris’s hand, uncurling her fingers from their fisted position to trap them between her own two hands. Her touch soothed Chris’s tattered nerves, bringing her back from the direction her thoughts were taking her.
"I am so jealous of you, Ais."
Aislinn snorted. "Of what?"
"The way you got over your ex and embraced Kyle."
"Yes, well, my ex only thought he could control me. He didn’t get drunk and beat me to a pulp and he certainly never groveled on his knees the next day, crying and apologizing for hitting me. Besides, Kyle is a pigheaded man who uses little things like mind-blowing orgasms to redirect me when I start thinking about the past."
"Must be nice."
"It is. You’ll find it yourself one day, Chris."
Chris shrugged the consoling thought off, but found her gaze lifting and searching the room. Two sets of piercing eyes connected with hers. She knew one was the blue of a cloudless sky and the other was so dark brown they were almost black. Both men straightened from the spots where they lounged near the bar and Chris swallowed. Two lean, muscle-packed bodies that could most likely break her in half easily. Why did she feel they would never do that to her? Maybe she felt their sense of honor from being in the military. Or maybe she’d seen them in action around other women, heard the rumors about how good they were in… No, she wasn’t even going to go there.
A tingle of something wrapped around her. No way would she say it was awareness. She didn’t want a man. Ever. Especially not one of those two.
"Much better." Aislinn patted her hand like she was a child.
"What’s better?" Chris couldn’t make herself look away. The men lifted their glasses in a mock salute, equally devilish grins gracing their faces. Her stomach somersaulted as she eyed their beverages held high. Beer? Something harder? It was too dim to tell across the distance.
"Your fingernails are no longer digging into my hand."
Chris gasped and, finally breaking the link between herself and TJ Mcfee and Jonathan Winslow, stared in horror at the damage she’d done to her best friend’s skin.
"See?" Aislinn’s lips curled at the corners. "Even if you don’t want to admit it, your subconscious knows those guys won’t hurt you."
Oh, good God, could Aislinn read minds too? "How in the hell do you figure that, Ms. Freud?" she huffed.
"Because from the minute you spotted them, your whole body relaxed."
Had it? Shit, Aislinn was right. Chris realized the tension was gone from her jaw and her Coke was no longer in danger of being smashed to smithereens. She jerked her gaze back to TJ and Jon. TJ had his thumbs hooked in the waistband of his jeans and Jon leaned negligently against the bar, his arms crossed over his chest.
Her heart thudded, this time for a reason other than fear of the half-tanked bodies surrounding her. Why? How could Aislinn see something Chris couldn’t—or subconsciously wouldn’t? Was it possible Chris actually felt something other than total disgust for the male species with TJ or Jon? If so, what, and for which one?
She sucked in a quick breath and changed the subject. "Where is Mr. Turner, anyway?"
"If Kyle heard you call him Mr. Turner he’d probably dock your pay somehow."
Chris laughed. "Sorry, but the man is my boss."
"Yes, but he’s my fiancé and it’s weird to hear you call him Mr. Turner."
"You were calling him the same thing a few months ago."
"Touché."
"So, you didn’t answer my question. Where is your man? I thought he and TJ and Jon were attached at the hips. Does your bed get crowded at night?" There was always attitude to hide behind when all else failed.
"Nope. Not at night, but sometimes it does on the mornings they run together. I swear when those guys come in all bare-chested and sweaty from their five mile run, it’s like slurping heaven. I just want to lick the three of them up."
"Shut up," Chris snarled. This time when her fingers tightened on the glass it had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the green-eyed monster called jealousy, which was stupid since she knew Aislinn was teasing her. Kyle wouldn’t let another man within a foot of Aislinn.
Chris’s heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t jealous. Couldn’t be. Not over her best friend’s obvious attempt at getting a rise out of her, and not about a man. Men. No.
Aislinn blinked and her lips curved up in a smile she tried to hide. "I thought you wanted to know. You asked."
"I didn’t mean that and you know it." Chris snorted. "You’ve never licked the sweat off anyone but Kyle and I don’t want to know about it."
"Ah, but you did want to know about TJ and Jon. Don’t deny it, Chris. I may be the last person to be giving advice on men here, sweetie, but what can it hurt to give them a try? Have a fling, get them out of your system—if that’s what needs to happen—and move on. Besides, you put on a skirt for them and let your hair down, you know you did."
Chris choked on her Coke. She had not put this skirt on for them. She’d worn it because…well, it had been a moment of insanity that had urged her to take it out of her closet this morning and bring it to work to change into for this party. She had not been thinking about the way it flowed around her legs so nicely just above the knee. So nicely someone else might notice too. She hadn’t. The hair thing wasn’t for them either. She’d chosen to leave her long blonde strands down to float around her shoulders where it emphasized her slender neck and framed her heart-shaped face because the ponytail had been giving her a headache. Yeah. That was it.
