Someone is stalking Miyuki Price-Jones.
As the host of a very successful home shopping TV show that sells adult toys, Mi has become the object of an ex-con’s obsession, requiring the services of ex-Navy SEAL turned bodyguard, Lucas Vega. As the attraction between Lucas and Mi grows, Lucas has a difficult time keeping his feelings for Mi separate from his mission to keep her safe. A mission that is more challenging than anyone could have predicted.
Damaged by their pasts, Lucas and Mi find more in common then they could have imagined and secrets they thought would tear them apart could be the ties that bind them together forever. But with the stalker growing bolder, Lucas and Mi must learn to trust each other or risk losing more than their hearts.
One of them could lose their life
God above, she wanted him.
Taking his hand, she slipped down from her barstool and drew him off his. Without a word, she towed him to the big bedroom at the end of the hall. When she’d imagined them together, she’d pictured them here in his big bed with the walls of windows. Stopping at the side of the bed, she turned to face him. She reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. The city lights twinkling in the distance were the only illumination, but she could clearly make out his expression as his gaze roamed over her bare skin.
Damn, but she was beautiful, Lucas thought, shucking his shirt in one fluid motion. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She glowed. The golden light gilded her skin, like the statue of a goddess, the gentle slope of her breasts the only shadow. She reached for the button of her jeans. His eyes followed the motion. Then she was standing before him in nothing but the smallest scrap of lace. He wasted no time following suit, kicking off his shoes and shedding his jeans. He didn’t dare look away from her. If she were going to retreat from him, he’d have to find a way to convince her to stay.
He stood before her, bare in more ways than one, wanting nothing more than the feel of her skin on his. She moved toward him, her lips curved into a coy smile as though she knew she had all the power. And damned if she didn’t. She put her hands on him, rising up on her toes to smooth her palms over his pecs, across his shoulders, down his arms and back again. He shuddered and she repeated the motion, adding a sweet little purring sound that locked the breath in his throat.
“Touch me,” she begged.
Beth Yarnall writes romantic suspense, mysteries and the occasional hilarious blog post. She lives deep in the heart of ‘The O.C.’ California with her husband, two sons, and their dog where she is hard at work on her next novel.
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