• Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content
  • Skip to primary sidebar
  • Skip to footer

Sugarbeat's Books

The Home of the Romance Novel

  • Home
  • Blog
  • About Me
  • Review Policy
  • Review List
  • My Books

erotica

Mission: Seduction by Candace Havens

By Barb Drozdowich 11 Comments

Welcome to Sugarbeat’s Books – The Home of the Romance Novel!

storeitemSubject: Marine Lieutenant Rafe McCawley

Mission: Seduce the woman who saved him. But does he have the right one?

A breathtaking island resort is perfect for Rafe McCawley to relax, recover…and enjoy the woman whose emails kept him sane during his previous tour. But instead, Rafe is greeted by her stunning sister, Kelly Callahan—pro surfer, resort owner and (God help him) hot enough to set the ocean itself ablaze….

But Rafe doesn’t know the whole truth. Kelly had been the one behind the emails. And she’ll tell him…as soon as she can get her libido under control!

The heat between them is immediate. It’s red-hot. And wrong or right, it won’t be denied….

Uniformly Hot!

The Few. The Proud. The Sexy as Hell.

Why do you need to read this book? I love these Uniformly Hot books! This one was great – Rafe needs to come to terms with the fact that the woman he thought he was writing to when he was injured is not who he thought he was writing to.

Mission: Seduction is available on Amazon

Excerpt:

The bullet zinged past marine lieutenant Rafe McCaw-ley’s ear. Instantly, he went into defense mode. “Jeep!” he yelled to the doctor and the ambassador as he shoved them toward the vehicle.

“Sniper,” he told his men, but he knew they were already on it. As part of the rescue mission, they’d been trained for moments like this.

Buck and Meyers fired toward the hills.

Murphy had the car door open and helped the civilians in as fast as he could. Rafe used himself as a human shield.

Fire tore into his hip. He’d been hit.

He didn’t falter.

He was the only thing between the sniper and the civilians, and it was his duty.

Pain scorched his right arm. Another bullet. He was a sitting duck, but it didn’t matter. He had to get these people to safety.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion then. A series of bullets pounded his back. His vest kept them from penetrating. The force knocked the breath from his lungs. He lunged forward in a final effort to protect the ambassador, half throwing the man into the vehicle so that Murphy could shut the door. As he did, blood stained Murphy’s neck.

Rafe placed his hand at the wound to stop the blood flow, but he was losing blood, too, and he could feel himself getting weaker.

“Man down. Man down,” Rafe heard himself utter as he slid into the darkness.

“Mister! Hey, mister! Wake up. Bad dreams, man. Bad dreams.”

A groggy Rafe tried to open his eyes. It was as if someone had pulled him up out of quicksand.

“Mister, you okay? Wake up already.”

Blinking his eyes open, Rafe took in his surroundings. A taxi. The driver, who had deeply tanned skin and a thatch of bright white hair, stared worriedly at him in the rearview mirror.

Rafe was in Fiji. Safe.

“Thanks,” Rafe said to the driver. “Sorry for falling asleep.” He must have passed out in the cab. The flight to Fiji had been brutal on his still-healing body, and he hadn’t gotten much rest. Rafe scrubbed his face with his hand.

He was finally here.

Sun. Sea. And a woman.

Rafe figured that was all any man ever needed to heal wounds of the physical or mental variety. While he’d been in recovery for the injuries he’d suffered he’d thought of little else. The letters from Mimi were what kept him going through the intense therapy. Her sweet encouragement and kind words were the elixir his soul used to heal. And were exactly what his mind needed to help forget. Now he would see her in the next ten minutes.

The long hours on the plane here had been torture. His hip, arm and shoulder, which had suffered the brunt of the bullets in the firefight, were still sore. Even with his pain meds he couldn’t get comfortable on the plane. He’d been awake for almost forty-eight hours straight. But he hadn’t grumbled or even worried about it. The only thing in his mind was the image of the gorgeous five-eleven dark-haired beauty he was about to see. It had been eighteen months. He’d kicked himself for not kissing her at the end of their one and only date.

They met at a New York fashion show where Rafe had been duped into modeling some jeans that put him in hot water with the Marines. But it had been worth it to meet Mimi. After the fashion show, she’d taken him to a party with a lot of famous people. At the end of the evening, he’d walked her to her apartment but refused to go up. He was a gentleman, which seemed to surprise her. They hugged, and he left. The next day she flew out of town for a gig in London, and he hadn’t seen her since.

She began writing to him six months ago. That first letter from her was a surprise. He’d written to her six months prior to that and when she hadn’t answered, he thought that despite a great night she had moved on. In her first letter she told him that she traveled so much his letter must have slipped through the cracks.

They wrote back and forth frequently. He tried to get her on Skype or the phone, but things never appeared to work for Mimi when it came to electronics. She said it was one of her many faults. A few days before he’d been shot, he’d received a letter from her saying that as soon as he was free they should meet at her sister’s new yoga and surf camp in Fiji. The time he was ordered to take off for rehab gave him the perfect excuse to accept her offer.

“Almost there,” the taxi driver said as he swerved to miss a cyclist. Rafe’s shoulder hit the side of the car and he winced. He was beginning to wonder if he’d ever be back to 100 percent. Every day he worked his muscles hard to make sure they didn’t atrophy, but nothing moved quite as well as it should. And yet he needed to be ready for anything if he were to return to active duty one day.

The farther they drove away from the airport, the greener and more lush the surroundings. The cab’s open windows allowed the smell of exotic flowers to permeate the air. The car stopped in front of iron gates covered with vegetation.

This was it.

The past year had been hell, and Rafe had to admit hanging out in paradise for a few weeks didn’t sound too bad. Sure beat the hospital and his last three tours.

The driver pushed a button on the console at the side of the gate and the gate swung open.

The what-ifs plagued him. What if Mimi didn’t recognize him? What if she was merely doing this to be nice?

For months he’d imagined swinging her in his arms and kissing her senseless when he saw her again to make up for the lost opportunity on their date.

Play it cool. Get a read on the situation.

He took a deep breath, then another.

The taxi stopped on the circular driveway in front of the resort. Well, it was more like a mansion than a hotel. Mimi said that her sister had worked hard to make it feel like a home away from home.

He grinned. It wasn’t like any home he’d ever lived in. Mimi promised this was a great place to relax and rejuvenate and that was exactly what he needed.

As he glanced up, he realized there were several thatched dwellings along the beach on both sides of the house. They were probably the private bungalows Mimi mentioned. She was setting him up in one, all expenses paid.

He’d been hesitant about that, but she’d insisted, relaying to him that her sister had given her a great discount, since it was for a friend.

Grateful to stretch his legs again, he stepped out of the cab and was assaulted by the salty air coming off the sea. Surrounded by brilliant green foliage, it looked and sounded like a jungle. Birds chirped and there was even a monkey swinging in a nearby tree.

Yes, this was total bliss.

“Rafe?”

He turned and was expecting to see Mimi, but this woman didn’t look anything like her. She was about the same height, but her hair was long and blond. And Mimi had looked as if she’d never been in the sun, whereas this woman was the color of golden honey.

She had a California girl-next-door quality that would normally be very appealing to him, but he was here to see Mimi.

He cleared his throat. “Yes, I’m Rafe. Are you a friend of Mimi’s?”

She frowned and looked down at her toes for a second before glancing at him. “I’m her sister, Kelly. She’s actually been delayed a few days. She had a shoot in Canada of all places, and she asked me to look after you.”

Rafe’s heart sank. He knew it was silly to be so disappointed, but he’d been looking forward to seeing her.

“Oh. Hi.” He wasn’t sure what to say to this woman. “Uh…should I find someplace else to stay until she gets here?” He could probably find another hotel on the island. His friends told him the lodging and food in Fiji was usually pretty cheap, except at some of the larger, fancier hotels.

“No, no. How can I look after you if you stay somewhere else? No, I have you set up in the Blue Bungalow. Everything is done by color here. Your surfboard is blue, the instructions and times for your classes are in blue. Even the room is decorated in blue.”

She paused and then gave him a worried glance. “You don’t mind the color blue, do you?”

He chuckled. “No. It happens to be my favorite color, but I don’t want to put you to any trouble. And what do you mean by classes?”

The taxi driver cleared his throat, and Rafe pulled out his wallet. “Sorry, man. Here you go.” He gave the driver the money for the fare plus a generous tip. Then he picked up his pack and followed Kelly down a path.

“You asked about the classes,” she said as they tracked along another path, clearly leading to the bungalows on the beach. “There are yoga and surfing classes. I also have Pilates, ballet bar, regular and Bikram yoga classes. They’re popular with our usual clientele here at Last Resort.”

From the looks of the surroundings that usual clientele must be pretty highend. While it had a wild feel to it, the bungalows and the mansion or main building, which had to be at least ten thousand square feet, were very well maintained.

“I don’t do any of those things,” he said.

“I kn— Uh, right. Mimi said that she didn’t think you’d go for it, but I also know that you are getting over some injuries. Surfing might be a little rough on you right now, but yoga could do you some good. And Pilates would help lengthen those muscles and relieve your pain.”

He felt like a jerk for being so blunt. “You know what, I’m here. I might as well try whatever you have.”

Turning, she smiled at him, her blue eyes shining with happiness.

Rafe’s breath caught, and his lower regions responded so strongly he had to position his pack in front of him.

What is wrong with me?

She’s a beautiful woman, but you are dating her sister.

Well, technically they weren’t dating. But he’d flown halfway around the world to see her and that counted for something.

“I’m glad that you’re so open-minded. I find that most women who come here are ready to try new things, but a lot of men are sometimes worried about looking ridiculous. And that’s kind of ridiculous when you think about it. Tons of athletes from football players to track stars do yoga and Pilates. It’s great for stress relief and it helps to clear your mind. We had a hockey team here about a month after I took over. Those guys were up for anything.” Laughter colored her voice.

Clearing the mind was something Rafe needed desperately. The more Kelly talked, the more entranced he became with her. She was like a beacon of light and he was the ship in need of safe harbor. He snorted.

What you need is some sleep.

That was it. He was punch-drunk and slightly delirious. With his defenses down, he didn’t have a chance when it came to Kelly, with her charm and beauty.

“So here we are.” She waved a hand at the bungalow before him. The doors stood wide open, allowing the breeze to cool the large room, which was done in shades of light blue and white. Calming. It was nicer than any place he’d ever stayed. As a marine, he learned to fall asleep anywhere, and when he traveled he usually picked cheap motels. All he usually needed was a bed.

“Are you sure you don’t mind me staying here?” Rafe asked as he ditched his shoes at the door and followed her inside.

The floor was cork or close enough by the soft feel of it. His aching joints relaxed their protest three steps into the place. There was a king-size bed on the left. To the right was a seating area with a huge flat-screen TV on the wall in the center, which could be viewed from both the bed and the sofa.

“Of course I don’t mind. I wanted you to come, when, uh, Mimi told me what you’d been through. I mean, not to make a big deal out of it—your bravery—well, you’re so darn heroic,” she said, and ducked her head as if she were embarrassed. “Sorry. It’s just that Mimi has told me so much about you that I feel like I know you. I’m normally kind of shy, which is why it’s weird that I can’t seem to stop talking around you.”

She grinned sheepishly. “I’m going to stop talking now.”

Rafe couldn’t help but smile at her nervousness.

“Hey, you don’t have to worry about that with me. I spend most of my time with men who only communicate by grunting. It’s nice to hear a friendly voice that isn’t barking orders.”

Her soft chuckle was like a gentle caress. They stared at each other expectantly for a few seconds before he quickly peered at the ocean as though he was interested in the view.

“I bet you’re exhausted,” she said. “The bath is through there. There are robes and a selection of swim trunks if you need them. Dinner is at seven, but there are snacks in your fridge, which is under the television console. You have a butler, whom you can contact by pressing two on the phone. If you need maid service, that’s number three. If you’d rather dine here instead of at the main house, you push four and they’ll deliver the meal for you.

“So, that should be it. If you need me, push six and then seven, seven. We have several guests arriving, but practically everyone who comes to Last Resort is looking for solitude and waves to ride. It’ll be quiet around here for you.”

“Thanks,” Rafe said. “I mean, really. This is way more than I expected.”

The hopeful look in her eyes confused him. It was almost as if she’d worried he wouldn’t like it here. How could he not? The place was mind-blowing.

“Right. If you need help unpacking, you can call the butler. I’ll get out of your hair.”

She sprinted from the bungalow.

He watched as she tripped slightly on the path and then carried on as if nothing had happened.

The two sisters couldn’t be any more different. Mimi never had a hair out of place, and the night they went to the party she had dressed in pricey heels and a fancy dress that barely covered her thighs.

But if he were honest, he much preferred Kelly’s casual white shorts and bikini top.

“You aren’t going there,” he murmured to himself. “Mimi. You’re here for Mimi.”

Right. What’s it to be, then—a cold shower or a nap?

Nah.

Rafe glanced at the ocean and went in search of his board shorts.

A good hard swim would help ease his tension and get his mind off one very pretty resort owner.

Share this:

  • Share
  • Pocket
  • Tumblr
  • Print
  • Email
  • Reddit

Free Fall by Karen Foley

By Barb Drozdowich 10 Comments

Welcome to Sugarbeat’s Books – The Home of the Romance Novel!

storeitemSubject:
Lt. Commander Jack Callahan

Mission:
A high-flying maneuver…with tantalizing perks!

Being stationed at a naval base on Whidbey Island is a dream come true for Navy pilot Jack Callahan. But when a late-night encounter on a beach with a stunning woman turns scorchin’ hot, Jack’s dream starts resembling an X-rated fantasy….

Three weeks in her hometown is nothing short of torture for photographer Maggie Copeland. The town hasn’t forgotten she was dumped at the altar by an aviator, and neither has she—until her naughty rendezvous with the oh-so-scrumptious stranger! But then Maggie learns that Jack is a pilot. Can she resist the force of their sexual chemistry…or will she find herself falling for another flyboy?

Why do you need to read this book? I loved the real feeling of this book. Not a rose-colored glasses romance, but a real one with real people – at least my impression. I enjoyed this book!

Free Fall is available from Amazon

Excerpt:

Magnificent.

There was simply no other word to describe him.

“Oh, man, you are so freaking gorgeous,” Maggie Copeland breathed in appreciation. “So strong and sleek. C’mon, show me what you’ve got…give it to me, baby.”

It had been years since she’d seen a male specimen as thrilling as this one, and she’d almost forgotten how the sight could make her heart race and her blood sing. As if sensing he had an eager audience, the orca breached, lifting his entire body out of the water and twisting upward in a glorious show of strength and grace, before falling back into the waves. Maggie gasped in admiration. Shamu had nothing on this beauty.

Her fingers worked quickly on the shutter release, snapping pictures in rapid succession. High overhead, she could barely hear the traffic on the twin bridges that spanned the narrow strait known as Deception Pass and connected Whidbey Island to the mainland. But she knew if she looked up, she would see the tiny shapes of hundreds of tourists who had pulled off the road to glimpse the killer whale as he frolicked in the frigid waters below the bridge.

Maggie almost hadn’t bothered to stop, but her curiosity had gotten the best of her. Well, that and the fact that she’d been looking for any excuse to delay reaching her destination. After pulling over, she’d attached a telephoto lens to her camera and had made her way along the pedestrian walkway of the soaring bridge. Her first peek over the edge had made her head swim, and she’d pulled quickly back, her heart racing. The drop was dizzying, and it had taken several moments before she’d had the courage to take a second look, telling herself she wasn’t afraid of heights. But when she’d glimpsed the orca some two hundred feet below, she’d forgotten everything except her desire to capture the magnificent animal on film.

She’d been a teenager the last time she’d navigated the steep, rocky trail that twisted its way beneath the bridge to the water’s edge. Even then, with her brother beside her, she’d been terrified of falling, but tonight she’d managed the descent effortlessly, despite the fading light and the weight of the heavy lens bumping against her hip. The fragrant scent of crushed pine needles underfoot, combined with the salty ocean air, had been so familiar that for a brief moment she’d felt a wave of nostalgia. She hadn’t been back to the Pacific Northwest in almost ten years, and she’d forgotten how good the Puget Sound air smelled. Now she crouched on a high rock overlooking the turbulent waters of Deception Pass, with an unobstructed view of the orca. If only she had more daylight!

Lowering the camera, she glanced toward the horizon, where the sun was rapidly slipping away beneath a breathtaking display of purple-andorange-streaked sky. In another minute, it would disappear completely. The few people who had joined her on the rocky shoreline were already making their way back up to the road, leaving her alone. If she didn’t start back to her car now, she’d have a difficult time negotiating the trail in the dark. She might not be anxious to return to her childhood home in the tiny community of Rocks Village, but neither did she relish the thought of spending the night on a deserted beach.

With a last, longing look at the orca, almost invisible now except for the tall, black fin that sliced through the water, Maggie secured her camera over one shoulder and carefully began working her way to the ground. Almost immediately, her fear of heights returned and she realized that getting down from the boulder was not going to be as easy as climbing up had been. What had earlier seemed a manageable height now seemed like a frightening drop to the rocky beach.

In an instant, she was fifteen years old again, excited that her brother and his friends had allowed her to come with them to Whistle Lake on neighboring Ana-cortes Island. The twenty-foot cliffs were popular with the local kids as a place to prove their bravery and cool off during the warm summer months. But Eric and his friends had craved bigger thrills, and had instead hiked to where the cliffs towered fifty to sixty feet high over the lake. One by one, they had leapt from the rocks into the deep water, and then taunted Maggie when she’d refused to join them.

Nothing could have induced her to leave the security of that rock, but she hadn’t seen Eric’s friend, who had climbed out of the water, make his way stealthily back to where she stood. With a cry of triumph, he had rushed at her. Although later he claimed that he’d only meant to give her a scare, he’d barreled into her, plunging them both over the edge. Maggie knew she’d been fortunate to have only broken a leg, and the boys had been lucky that her mother hadn’t killed them. Maggie had never been back to Whistle Lake and avoided heights whenever she could.

Now, working her fingers into a crack in the surface of the stone, she clung to the side and searched for her next foothold, but there was none. Peering down, she wondered if she could jump, but quickly decided against it. The rocks made the option too dangerous, and she didn’t want to risk breaking an ankle or, worse, damaging her precious camera.

Wishing she was wearing jeans and not a pair of shorts, Maggie stretched her leg downward, feeling blindly for a place to set her foot, and scraped her bare knee against the rough surface of the stone. Swearing softly, she finally succeeded in finding a small sliver of ledge. With her weight now balanced, she groped for a new handhold, dismayed when her camera strap slid from her shoulder and down the length of her arm to her wrist. Nudged off balance by the weight of the heavy lens, she made a grab for it, but it slipped free of her fingers. Instinctively, she stuck her foot out and snagged the strap with her foot. Maggie winced as the camera dangled precariously from the toe of her sneaker, and the telephoto lens bounced sickeningly against the hard stone.

Crap. Now what? She clung to the rock with both hands, balanced on an outcropping no wider than her thumb, with one leg stuck out at a precarious angle and her expensive camera swinging from her foot.

“Do you need a hand?”

Startled, Maggie nearly lost her footing. The voice was deep, masculine and unless she was mistaken, amused. She hadn’t heard anyone approaching, and now she carefully craned her head to get a look at the newcomer. A man stood directly below her with his arms raised as if to catch her. Even from her height, she could see he was young and good-looking, and his voice had a quality that caused something to resonate deep inside her. “Uh…okay.”

He stepped forward, and this time she heard the crunch of rocks beneath his feet. “Here, let me take your camera, and then I can help you down.”

Uncertainty washed over Maggie. She’d spent a small fortune on the camera, and even more on the telephoto lens. These two pieces of equipment were all she had brought with her from Chicago, yet they constituted the foundation of her photography business. If this guy decided to do a grab-and-run, she’d be completely screwed. But the decision was taken out of her hands when he reached up and removed the camera strap from her foot and casually slid it over one shoulder.

“Careful,” she admonished, keeping a sharp eye on him in case he should decide to bolt.

“No worries,” he said easily. “Now it’s your turn.”

To Maggie’s horror and astonishment, he reached up and put his hands on the back of her bare calves, gripping them firmly. Part of her realized that he was only trying to help, but his touch seemed to scorch her skin, and it was all she could do not to jerk away.

“Okay, thank you,” she replied, and her voice sounded high and breathless. “I can manage from here.”

“There’s another ledge about eight inches below you,” he said, ignoring her words. “I’ll help you find it.”

With one hand wrapped around her leg, he eased it slowly downward until Maggie found the small toehold. “Great, I’ve got this,” she assured him, not at all sure that she did. “Thanks.”

“Are you experienced at bouldering?” Now there was no mistaking the amusement in his voice.

“At what?” she asked, momentarily distracted.

“Never mind, I can see that you’re not.” Instead of stepping back, the man slid his big hands up to her hips. “You’ve run out of toeholds, sweetheart. Let go. I’ve got you.”

With both hands gripping her hips, he plucked her from the side of the rock as if she weighed no more than a child. Maggie gave a small cry of surprise as she found herself in his arms, her hands clutching at his broad shoulders. Immediately, she was swamped with sensation.

He felt solid beneath her fingers, and he smelled incredible, like clean laundry and something spicy. Heat poured off of him, and she could feel it even through the layers of their clothing. She had an almost overwhelming urge to curl herself around him and absorb his warmth. He didn’t immediately release her, and it didn’t occur to Maggie to protest. Even in the darkness, she could feel the intensity of his stare. Was it her imagination, or did his arms tighten fractionally around her?

“I’ve got you,” he repeated, and his voice sounded a little husky.

Suddenly, she became aware of the intimacy of their position. Her arms were still looped around his neck, and their faces were so close that she could feel his warm breath against her cheek. Something tightened inside her, making her feel unsettled and short of breath and, despite the cool breeze coming in off the ocean, much too warm. To her relief, he loosened his hold, allowing her to slide the length of his body until her feet touched the ground.

“Thank you,” she gasped, stepping back. Her equilibrium was off, and she swayed. He put a hand out to steady her.

“Are you okay?”

Maggie nodded as she gaped up at him. He was tall, probably a few inches over six feet, and leanly muscled. He wore a white shirt with the sleeves rolled carelessly back over his forearms and a pair of cargo shorts. His hair was cut short, and there was no mistaking the humor in his expression.

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “Just feeling a little foolish.”

“Why? It could have happened to anyone,” he assured her.

“But not to you,” she guessed, smiling.

“Nope,” he agreed, grinning shamelessly. “Not to me.” He slid the strap from his shoulder and handed the camera to her, using one hand to support the telephoto lens. Once she had it back in her hands, she relaxed fractionally.

“Thank you. I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t come along when you did.”

And now that she was no longer in danger of being trapped on the boulder, or lying injured at the base of it, she realized they were alone on the narrow strip of beach, and the earlier glow of the sunset was deepening into the violet of nightfall. Waves washed against the rocky beach, sucking and dragging the stones back into the surf with a loose rattling sound. Maggie knew she should be nervous, but instead she felt oddly safe. Call her crazy, but there was something vaguely familiar about the man, although she was certain they had never met before. If anything, he kept a deliberate distance between them, as if sensing her apprehension.

“Did you get some good pictures?” he asked.

“Of the orca? Yes, I think so.”

“I saw them briefly, from up above,” he continued conversationally, “but by the time I got down here, they were gone.”

“They? “ she asked in surprise, momentarily forgetting her caution.

“Didn’t you see? There were two of them: a male and a female. The first was here, in the strait. The female was headed toward the open sea.”

“What makes you think it was a male and a female?”

He smiled, his teeth white in the darkness. “From the shape of the dorsal fin. The female has a smaller, curved fin. The male’s fin is tall and straight.”

Maggie knew enough about orcas to know he was right. A male and a female. How had she missed the female? Of course, she’d only been scanning the waters of the pass itself, and hadn’t been looking toward the ocean. If a second killer whale had been swimming just beyond the headland, it was no wonder she hadn’t spotted it.

She couldn’t blame the female; faced with the choice of following the male into the narrow bay behind Whidbey Island or making a run for the open sea and freedom, she’d choose the latter, too.

She had chosen freedom, too, she reminded herself.

She’d left Whidbey Island, located north of Seattle in Puget Sound, nearly ten years ago, and she hadn’t looked back. Chicago represented freedom to her, and everything she’d never had growing up on an island in the Pacific Northwest. More importantly, it offered an escape from the humiliating memories of what had happened ten years ago. So why didn’t she feel like she belonged in Chicago? She’d tried to convince herself that the city was where her future lay, but it was times like this that she understood what she’d given up; there would be no killer whale sightings in Chicago, or the scent of salt-tinged air, or the breathtaking beauty of Deception Pass with the sun sinking behind the horizon. With an irritated sigh, she pushed her nostalgia aside, reminding herself that she was only here for three weeks. No way would she allow herself to be drawn back by the local charm and beauty of the area. So maybe Chicago wasn’t where she belonged, but neither was Whidbey Island.

“Well, thanks for your help,” she said politely, and indicated the trailhead that led back to the road. “I’m going to head back up.”

He fell into step beside her, putting one hand beneath her elbow as the terrain grew steep. “You wouldn’t want to fall,” he said in explanation as she looked at him in surprise. “Not with that camera. Of course, I could carry it for you.”

Even with the strap around her neck, Maggie kept one hand on the lens to prevent it from swinging. The result was that her balance was a little off. She considered him for a moment. He seemed sincere enough, and he had helped her. After a moment, she removed the strap from around her neck and handed the camera to him.

“If you’re sure you don’t mind…”

“I’m sure.” He positioned the strap over his body, steadied the lens in one hand and indicated she should precede him up the trail. “After you.”

Maggie clambered gracelessly up the steep path, acutely conscious of the man behind her. Was he checking out her butt? Could he even see her butt? Honestly, it was so dark she had trouble seeing the path. As they climbed higher, the pine trees around them grew thicker, and soon they were in dense woods and visibility was close to zero.

“Hold up a minute,” he called from behind her.

Maggie paused and glanced over her shoulder. He was closer than she realized, and while her breathing was already labored from exertion, he wasn’t even winded.

Share this:

  • Share
  • Pocket
  • Tumblr
  • Print
  • Email
  • Reddit

No Desire Denied by Cara Summers

By Barb Drozdowich 11 Comments

Welcome to Sugarbeat’s Books – The Home of the Romance Novel!

storeitemHe’s turning her fiction into fantasy…

Legend has it making out under the MacPherson Castle arch guarantees you will find love. But author Nell MacPherson has a better plan, which is fueling the plot of her next book—tapping into the arch’s magic to locate the last piece of a missing family heirloom. And since every book needs a sexy subplot, she’ll save some of that magic for hot one-on-one time with her childhood crush….

Secret Service agent Reid Sutherland is determined to protect Nell from the recent threats aimed at her and her family. Which means no fooling around. But damned if the arch isn’t doing its thing, because suddenly he and Nell can’t keep their hands off each other. With every touch and late-night liaison, they’re heading for big trouble…and this time, Nell won’t be able to write her way out of it!

 

No Desire Denied is available for purchase at Amazon

Excerpt:

Washington, D.C., present day

“I loved your book.”

Those words were music to any writer’s ears, and Nell MacPherson never tired of hearing them. She beamed a smile at the little girl standing in front of her table. “I’m so glad you did.”

She took the copy of It’s All Good the little girl held out to her and opened it to the title page. Her reading and signing at Pages, the bookstore—down the street from her sister Piper’s Georgetown apartment—had run overtime. At one point, the line had spilled out into the street. The store’s manager was thrilled, but Piper—who’d taken an extended morning break to attend—had glanced at her watch twice in the past fifteen minutes. She probably needed to head back to the office.

“What’s your name?” Nell asked the little girl.

“Lissa. But I wish it was Ellie like the character in your book. Mommy says I look like her, but you do, too.”

Lissa was right on both counts, Nell thought. They both had Eleanor Campbell MacPherson’s long blond hair and blue eyes.

“Mommy and I did some research. You’re Ellie’s great-great-great…” Lissa trailed off to glance up at her mother. “I forgot how many greats.”

“Way too many,” Nell said as she autographed the book. “I always say I’m Ellie and Angus’s several-times-great-granddaughter.”

“Did Ellie really draw all the pretty pictures for your story?”

“Yes. She was a talented artist. Every one of the illustrations came from her sketchbooks.”

“And you live in her castle in New York,” Lissa said.

“I grew up there, and I’m going back for a while to finish up another book.” That hadn’t been her original plan. The federal grant had given her a taste of what it was like to be totally independent, allowing her to travel across the country giving writing workshops to young children in inner city schools. For someone who’d been hovered over by a loving and overprotective family all her life, the past year had been a heady experience—one that she intended to build on.

But her sisters’ recent adventures on the castle grounds—leading to the discovery of part of Eleanor Campbell’s long-missing dowry—had caused Nell to question her plan of finding an apartment in New York City and finishing her second book there. Each of her siblings had discovered one of Eleanor’s sapphire earrings. So wasn’t it Nell’s turn to find the necklace? Not that anyone in her family had suggested it. They had assumed she was returning home to settle in and take the teaching job that nearby Huntleigh College had offered her. But a week ago an anonymous letter had been delivered to her while she was teaching her last set of workshops in Louisville. The sender had used those exact words: It’s your turn. Nell had known then that she had to return to the castle and find the rest of Eleanor’s sapphires.

“Are you going to fall in love and kiss him beneath the stone arch that Angus built for Ellie?”

Nell reined in her thoughts.

“Lissa.” The pretty woman standing behind the little girl put a hand on her shoulder and sent Nell an apologetic smile. “Thank Ms. MacPherson for signing your book.”

“Thank you, Ms. MacPherson.”

“Thank you for coming today, Lissa.” Nell leaned a little closer. “Lots of people have kissed their true loves beneath that stone arch. My eldest sister, Adair, has recently become engaged to a man she kissed there. Cam Sutherland, a CIA agent. He’s very handsome. And my aunt Vi is going to marry Cam’s boss.” Then she pointed to Piper who was standing near the door. “See that pretty woman over there?”

Lissa nodded.

“That’s my other sister, Piper. She’s a defense attorney here in D.C., and she just kissed her true love, FBI agent Duncan Sutherland, beneath the stone arch two weeks ago.”

Lissa’s eyes went wide. “And now they’ll all live happily ever after, right?”

“That’s the plan. In the meantime, my sister Adair and my aunt Vi are turning Castle MacPherson into a very popular place to fall in love and then have a wedding.” She winked at the little girl. “When you’re older and you find your true love, you might want to bring him up there.”

“Can I, Mommy?” Lissa asked, a thrill in her voice.

“Can I?”

“I don’t see why not. But I can’t see that happening for quite a while.”

Lissa turned back to Nell. “What about you? Aren’t you going to kiss your true love under the stones?”

“Someday,” Nell said. But while her older sisters and her aunt might be ready for happy-ever-afters, Nell had much more she wanted to accomplish first. Finding Eleanor’s sapphire necklace and finishing her second book were at the top of her list.

The instant Lissa’s mother steered her daughter toward the checkout line, Piper crossed to Nell’s table. “The Bronwell trial starts on Monday, and my boss is holding a press conference at five o’clock.” Piper glanced at her watch. “I can treat you to a quick cup of coffee.”

“No problem.” Nell grabbed her purse and waved at the manager.

“You’re great with the kids,” Piper said. “They love talking to you about Eleanor and Angus.”

She and Piper had nearly reached the door of the shop when a man rode his bike up over the curb and jumped off. A sense of deja vu gripped Nell even before he had entered the store and she had read Instant Delivery on the insignia over his shirt pocket. The anonymous letter she’d received in Louisville had also been hand delivered.

“I have a letter for Nell MacPherson. Is she still here?” He spoke in a loud voice, his gaze sweeping the room.

“I’m Nell MacPherson.”

The relief on his face was instantaneous. “Glad I didn’t miss you. I was supposed to get here half an hour ago. The traffic today is worse than usual. If you’ll just sign here.”

As she signed, Nell’s mind raced ahead. She hadn’t told anyone in her family about the first letter. They would have wanted her to come home to the castle immediately so they could protect her. Worse still, now that her two sisters were involved with agents from the CIA and the FBI, they would have sent someone to hover over her. And the number one person they would have in mind would be Reid Sutherland.

Nell intended to avoid that at all cost. She also intended to avert their expectation that she and Reid live happily ever after. Just because her two sisters would soon wed Reid’s two brothers didn’t mean she had to marry the last triplet. No way was she ready for that fairy-tale ending.

This whole year had been about demonstrating to them that she could take care of herself. She took a quick look at the envelope held out to her. It was one of those standard-letter-sized ones used for overnight deliveries. The only return address was for the Instant Delivery office. She accepted it and tucked it under her arm.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Piper asked as they moved out onto the street.

“It’s probably from my editor.”

“Why would she send something to the bookstore? She’d simply call you, right? I think you should open it.”

Curiosity and determination. Those were Piper’s most outstanding qualities, and they served her well in her career. She wouldn’t rest until she knew what was in the letter.

Nell pulled the tab. Inside was one page and the first four sentences matched the message in the first letter.

Your mission is to find the sapphire necklace that Eleanor Campbell stole from our family. Your sisters knew where to find the earrings. Now, it’s your turn. I’ll contact you and tell you how you can return the Stuart sapphires to their rightful owners.

Nell’s gaze dropped to the last sentence. It was new, and an icy sliver of fear shot up her spine.

If you choose again to ignore your mission, someone in your family will die.

“One for the road,” Lance Cabot said with a grin as he assumed the ancient fighting position, arms bent at the elbows and hands flexed.

Setting aside the file he was working on, Reid Sutherland stepped out from behind his desk and mirrored his adversary’s stance. For seconds they moved in a small circle like dancers, retaking each other’s measure.

“I can teach you the move,” Reid offered as he had countless times before. Growing up as the oldest of triplet boys, he’d taken up martial arts as soon as his mother had allowed it. And he’d created the move by using his brothers for practice.

“Where’s the fun in that? I think I’ve finally figured it out.”

Reid blocked the kick aimed at his groin. “Maybe not.”

They were evenly matched in height and weight, and Reid knew from experience that the baggy sweatshirt the man was wearing hid well-honed muscles. Reid was five years younger, so that gave him one advantage. And while four years at West Point and assignments in Bosnia and Iraq had kept his opponent fit, they hadn’t provided the training in hand-to-hand combat that the Secret Service required of its agents. Another advantage for Reid. Plus Cabot’s four-year stint in the United States Senate, not to mention a wife and two kids, could slow a man down.

A well-aimed foot grazed Reid’s hip bone, making it sing. He feinted to the right, but the move didn’t fool Cabot, and Reid had to dodge another kick. He blocked the next blow but felt it reverberate from his forearm to his shoulder. For two sweaty minutes, Cabot continued to attack, and Reid continued to defend himself.

Cabot had one major advantage. He was the vice president of the United States, and Reid’s job was to protect him. Therefore, Reid kept his moves defensive. His office was not designed for hand-to-hand combat, but over the past year, that had meant squat to the VP. Thank God.

Reid feinted, ducked low and for the first time completely avoided Cabot’s foot. The maneuver should have caused his opponent to stumble, but Lance Cabot merely shifted his weight and resumed his stance. “I like your moves.”

“Ditto,” Reid said as they continued their circular dance. He loved his job. Two things had drawn him to the Secret Service. First, the agency filled a need he’d had from an early age to protect those he cared about, and it allowed him to fulfill that need in a way that challenged him intellectually as well as physically.

Reid blocked a kick and danced to his right. Both of them liked a good fight, and neither wanted it to end yet. That was only one of the things that the two men shared. Like the VP, Reid knew what it was to balance family responsibility against that desire to push the envelope. He’d lived with it all of his life, and protecting the vice president had allowed him to push that envelope in ever new and exciting ways.

Keeping Cabot safe was first and foremost a mind game. It required the ability to foresee all possible scenarios in a given situation. Making sure that the VP could enjoy a Wednesday-night dinner with his wife in Georgetown posed almost as much of a challenge as his recent visit to the troops in Afghanistan. Plus the job offered the added bonus of protecting someone who was addicted to risk taking. Reid’s boss had handpicked him to head up Cabot’s Secret Service detail so that the VP’s daredevil streak could be indulged—safely.

To date, those indulgences had included race-car driving, rock climbing and most recently skydiving. For Reid, it was the job of his dreams. And he’d learned that indulging the VP’s danger addiction made him easier to manage when the threat might be all too real.

“We’ve been sparring like this for over a year. Are you ever going to show me your A game?” Cabot asked.

“Someday.” Reid gave the man points: he wasn’t even breathing heavily. “When it’s no longer my job to protect you from serious injury, I’ll be happy to oblige. Are you ever going to show me what you think my secret move is?”

“Soon,” Cabot promised.

Unfortunately the clock was ticking down. Last night Reid had officially gone on vacation. Jenna Stanwick, an up-and-coming agent he’d been personally training for the past month, was heading up the protection unit in his place. She would keep watch over the VP and his family for the next two weeks while they vacationed in Martha’s Vineyard. The Cabots were due to leave within the hour.

As if he too was aware that time was running out, Lance Cabot, quick as a cat, made his move, coming in low to grab Reid’s arm. Reid countered it by pivoting, before he snaked his other arm around Cabot’s neck and tossed him over his head. One of the chairs in front of his desk overturned and a paperweight clattered to the floor.

The door to the office shot open, and Jenna Stanwick strode into the room, gun drawn. With one sweeping glance she assessed the situation and reholstered her weapon. “Having fun, boys?”

“You didn’t see this,” Lance Cabot said as he got to his feet.

“See what?” Jenna asked.

Lance turned to Reid. “Maybe she will work out as your temporary replacement.”

Shooting Jenna a look of approval, Reid said, “She will. She has four brothers. Plus I taught her my secret move. She’ll teach it to you, if you want.”

“Not on your life.” But he studied Jenna with new interest. “How about if I practice on you, and you can tell me when I’m close?”

Jenna smiled at him. “I’d love to, but you’ll have to check the schedule your wife has mapped out. It looks pretty full to me.”

Once Jenna had stepped out and closed the door, Reid righted the overturned chair and offered it to Cabot. “You are going to have a good time with your wife and sons. Even if none of the planned activities offer much of an adrenaline rush.”

Cabot grinned at him. “Oh, there’ll be adrenaline rushes—they’ll just be different. Isn’t it time you explored the adventures you can have once you marry and have children?”

Reid raised both hands in mock surrender. “No thanks. I’m not cut out for family responsibilities.” He’d decided that a long time ago, during the slew of repercussions that had followed his father’s arrest for embezzlement.

With a grin, Cabot sank into the chair. “You just need the right woman to change your mind.” He waved a hand at the photos displayed on the credenza beside Reid’s desk. “Or maybe your brothers could do the job, seeing as they’ve both found that special woman in the past few months.” He dropped his gaze to the duffel bag at the foot of Reid’s desk. “For a man who’s dead set on avoiding the whole marriage-and-family thing, aren’t you running a huge risk spending your vacation up at that castle with those magic stones?”

Reid narrowed his eyes. “Who says I’m going to Castle MacPherson?”

Cabot’s grin widened. “Elementary. Really elementary. I don’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out you’re headed there. Not with the publicity your brothers have received lately. Each of them has been involved in the discovery of part of the long-missing Stuart sapphires. But the necklace is still lost. My bet is that sibling rivalry alone is pulling at you. I’m surprised that some enterprising reporter hasn’t sought you out for an interview.”

Share this:

  • Share
  • Pocket
  • Tumblr
  • Print
  • Email
  • Reddit
  • « Go to Previous Page
  • Page 1
  • Page 2
  • Page 3
  • Page 4
  • Interim pages omitted …
  • Page 54
  • Go to Next Page »

Primary Sidebar

Follow Me

Facebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinrss

Subscribe to Blog on Email

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 16.7K other subscribers

Available Now on Amazon

Available Now on Amazon

Do you need a primer?

Do you need a primer?

Need help with your website?

Need help with your website?

Are you listed?

Book BLogger list 250

Enter your email address:

Delivered by FeedBurner

2021 Reading Challenge

2021 Reading Challenge
Barb has
read 0 books toward
her goal of
100 books.
hide

0 of 100 (0%)
view books

Archives

Footer

Privacy Policy

Copyright © 2025