Book Blurb: Release Date: 2/28
Dr. Alyssa Foster will admit to a bad boy fetish…
But when she finds herself face to face with a convicted murderer with determination for freedom and an eye on her as his get out of jail free card, Alyssa knows she’s in deep trouble…. Not just because Teague Creek is a prisoner desperate for freedom, but because his every touch makes her desperate for more.
A man with a life sentence has nothing to lose…
Teague Creek has one shot at freedom, but his plan to escape with a hostage develops a fatal flaw: Alyssa. On the run from both the law and deadly undercover operatives who know of his strange abilities, he needs to avoid trouble, but every heated kiss tells him the fire between them could be just as devastating as the flames that changed him forever.
The Legend family cabin came into view while Teague was still several hundred yards away. Relief crept in, but he tamped it. That sighting at the pet store made any sense of relief impossible.
Vasser. Lieutenant Colonel Jason Vasser. The man who’d interrogated Teague while he’d been in the hospital after the explosion. The man who’d sat in the back of the courtroom during Teague’s trial.
The fact that the guy was still hovering five years later brought all the strange circumstances surrounding Desire’s death and the trial swarming back to Teague’s already overwhelmed brain.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.
His instincts were leading him down a very ugly path. He’d spent years trying to figure out who had set him up and why. The thought it could possibly have been someone connected to the Department of Defense—or so the guy had claimed at the time—was just too enormous to contemplate.
As he scoured the area for signs of life, something dark and heavy and sinister hovered over Teague’s shoulders like a sooty blanket. He didn’t expect the cops to look for him here. At least not initially. And by the time they dug deep enough to consider this place a possible hideout, Teague would be in Mexico, sipping iced tea, while Kat splashed in the warm waves.
Vasser, however, was another story entirely.
He turned off the headlights and eased off the gas until the car was barely moving and turned into the drive. Stopping halfway up the snowy gravel path, he reached for the gun he’d stashed between the seat and the door panel. With his other hand, Teague flipped the lights on and hit the brights.
The little house appeared in a wash of halogen. No movement. No shadows. No sound. No footsteps or tire tracks in the snow. The porch sat barren. The forest green shutters closed and locked over every visible window. A little of Teague’s tension eased as he studied the familiar cabin. By the looks of the place, Quaid’s family didn’t have any plans to come back until the first thaw, sometime around May. And Teague didn’t feel the least bit guilty about using the cabin. Quaid would have supported this crazy-ass scheme one hundred and ten percent.
The thought of his long-time friend and fellow firefighter still pinched his heart even five years after Quaid’s death in the warehouse fire that changed the lives of every team member. But he pushed aside the pain, just like he did every day, because there was nothing he could do to change the past.
He left the engine running, the heater on, and climbed out of the SUV. The icy air stung his skin and scraped his throat. With the headlights illuminating the area, Teague held the gun down by his thigh and walked the perimeter of the building, flipped the breakers and found the spare key.
He made quick work of pulling the space heaters into the two bedrooms and the open living area, turning them on full blast before returning to the car. Alyssa was still asleep. He opened the door and nudged her shoulder.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty, I’ve got a real bed for you.”
She shifted, grimaced, moaned. Sympathy pains twined through Teague’s body. The first few days after an injury were always the worst, and he expected the infection to wipe her out before the antibiotics kicked in.
“I know,” he said as he tugged on her arms to turn her toward him. “You’ll feel better tomorrow.”
Her eyes cracked open, hazed and dull, then immediately fell closed. “Where are we now? Siberia?”
“Funny. Somewhere safe. With heat and water and beds and food.”
She struggled to her feet then swayed. Her hand fell against the car to steady herself and a shiver rocked her body. Teague leaned down, tucked one arm behind her shoulders, the other behind her knees and lifted. She relaxed against his body without complaint and laid her head on his shoulder.
Teague kicked the front door closed and carried Alyssa into the first bedroom. He dropped her feet to the floor and supported her weight with one hand as he drew back the covers with the other.
She fisted her hands in his shirt and kept her face snuggled against his chest. “Sleep with me.”
His breath froze in his lungs. Dick rose to attention. Muscles contracted. Heat raced beneath his skin. That hadn’t been the sweetest whisper he’d ever heard. The kind from his sweetest dreams. That had been his sick psyche, torturing him again.
“Please?” The test of his inner strength, his character, his moral fiber continued. “I hurt, I’m freezing, I…just…”
She sighed, the heat of her breath sliding along his skin. He curled his fingers in the covers to keep from curling them into her hair. Kept his body still to keep from rocking and rubbing against her.
“Make me stop hurting.” She turned her head, pressed her cheek to his chest and tipped her chin so the tip of her nose grazed his jaw. “Make me forget.”
Her hands roamed down his chest, fingers feeling along the muscle of his belly before finding their way beneath his shirt. His stomach muscles jerked. His struggling mind knotted. Warm palms, strong fingers. Rubbing, touching, enticing.
“I know you can,” she whispered against his throat.
Hell yeah. His dick throbbed. Demanding.
Her lips pressed. Kissed. Lifted. Moved. Pressed again.
His mind filled with those secrets he’d shown her earlier. The slide and dash of tongue. Nip and scrape of teeth. Brush and suckle of lips.Her hands slid around his ribs, nails scratching skin all the way to his back as she aligned her body with his.
Yes. Please. Yes.
No. Don’t. Stupid. Don’t.
His cock jerked hard. Possessed. Angry.
A fist grabbed his heart and squeezed. For the love of God, why did she choose this moment to call him by name?
He dropped the covers, pulled her fully into his arms. Her hands slid up his back along his spine and a long satisfied sigh exiting her lungs. He closed his eyes, swallowed the regret thick in his throat and savored the feel of her slim, strong body against him. Beneath one hand the narrow waist, curve of spine, swell of hips. Beneath the other slim shoulders, graceful neck, silk fall of hair.
“You need sleep,” he said. “Not me.”
He had no idea where that had come from. Some small, sane sliver of himself. Surely not from the animal standing here ready to devour her.
“I know what I need.”
Damn but she was stubborn. He leaned away, pushed her back by the shoulders. As he expected, her gorgeous eyes were dark and angry and confused. Even hurt.
If regret could kill, Teague would have been brought back to life from all his ill deeds over the past twenty-four hours just to die the most hideous death of all in this moment.
He cupped her face, ran his thumbs over her cheeks. “But you don’t know who you’re asking to fill it.”
She compressed her lips in challenge. “Maybe I do. Maybe that’s what you’re afraid of.”
An arrow pierced Teague’s gut: bullseye.
He pointed at the bed. “Sleep.”
She turned away, dropped to the bed and curled onto her side, arms tucked to her torso, knees tight to her belly. Teague slid off her shoes and covered her with the comforter then pulled two more blankets from the closet and added them to the pile. When he was done, she was nearly invisible beneath the mound.
He left her there with mixed relief and regret. She was too damned perceptive. Too damned insightful. Too damned intelligent. Add to that gorgeous, sexy and freaking willing…and he had definitely taken the wrong woman.
· A print copy of FEVER, US/Canada shipping.
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