Series: Kisses & Crimes #4
Publication date: April 30th, 2018
Synopsis (according to Goodreads):
I was never supposed to be this woman.
I was supposed to be a super wife. A mom. A business owner. And I was... Until an armed robber sticks a gun into my face.
The man who saves me? Javier Mondello. My former high school crush. A tattooed troublemaker turned Adonis overnight.
There's no denying it; the chemistry between us is all-consuming--electric.
But when danger finds me again, when a crime of opportunity takes a twisted turn, I can't decide which fate is worse: falling into the arms of my hero... Or finding out what he's really up to...
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Excerpt
I don't hear the soft scuff of a shoe against the floor until it's too late.
The touch on my shoulder is soft, a caress almost. It makes me whirl on my feet, and the gasp I release from my lips is nothing but a scream trapped in my throat as I turn to see a set of green eyes glaring in my direction, a mass of dark hair framing a face seemingly chiseled out of stone.
I stumble backwards, my body falling into the closed curtain. Thick fabric and phantom hands entangle my body, holding me and I flail at both, my fists beating against skin and silk. But the hands are too quick for me. Fingers grip my arms and shoulders, spinning me, and before I can say another word, my lips are clasped shut between a calloused palm, the soft smell of men's cologne overwhelming my senses.
I whimper, but it's no use.
I am trapped. And the knowledge makes me claw. My fingernails break into skin, and as I pull at the fingers over my face, a voice, low and rumbling, ruffles the strands of my hair, puffing slowly over my skin.
"Stop. Stop fighting," the voice exhales. My chest heaves. Trapped front to back between a man's torso and locked forearm, my mind goes into panic. The panic turns into a frenzy when the voice calls out louder, its reminiscent tone striking some small chord within me.
He breathes my name. "Delilah."
I mumble, fighting for breath. His hand releases my mouth, moving ever so slowly. I lick my dry lips, my tongue searching for the syllables. "Who..." I swallow, my voice gasping. "Who--who are you?"
"If I told you," he responds, his words a molten flame, "you wouldn't believe me. Better that I show you." He releases me, stepping back. "Better that I show you me."
I turn, still in his arms, and take a deep breath. The fingers that hold me drop, and as I blink slowly, the face in front of me comes into focus, the stranger's strong features coming into light with every agonizing second that passes.
My heart beat double fast, my throat growing dry. I wrap a hand around my neck, still feeling the warmth of his fingers. My body goes numb.
"Is it...?" I look closer, squinting. "It is you. Javi?" My voice feels small. I know his answer... even before he says it. His face is permanently imprinted on my brain.
The dark-haired man nods. "You were expecting the Easter Bunny?"
The touch on my shoulder is soft, a caress almost. It makes me whirl on my feet, and the gasp I release from my lips is nothing but a scream trapped in my throat as I turn to see a set of green eyes glaring in my direction, a mass of dark hair framing a face seemingly chiseled out of stone.
I stumble backwards, my body falling into the closed curtain. Thick fabric and phantom hands entangle my body, holding me and I flail at both, my fists beating against skin and silk. But the hands are too quick for me. Fingers grip my arms and shoulders, spinning me, and before I can say another word, my lips are clasped shut between a calloused palm, the soft smell of men's cologne overwhelming my senses.
I whimper, but it's no use.
I am trapped. And the knowledge makes me claw. My fingernails break into skin, and as I pull at the fingers over my face, a voice, low and rumbling, ruffles the strands of my hair, puffing slowly over my skin.
"Stop. Stop fighting," the voice exhales. My chest heaves. Trapped front to back between a man's torso and locked forearm, my mind goes into panic. The panic turns into a frenzy when the voice calls out louder, its reminiscent tone striking some small chord within me.
He breathes my name. "Delilah."
I mumble, fighting for breath. His hand releases my mouth, moving ever so slowly. I lick my dry lips, my tongue searching for the syllables. "Who..." I swallow, my voice gasping. "Who--who are you?"
"If I told you," he responds, his words a molten flame, "you wouldn't believe me. Better that I show you." He releases me, stepping back. "Better that I show you me."
I turn, still in his arms, and take a deep breath. The fingers that hold me drop, and as I blink slowly, the face in front of me comes into focus, the stranger's strong features coming into light with every agonizing second that passes.
My heart beat double fast, my throat growing dry. I wrap a hand around my neck, still feeling the warmth of his fingers. My body goes numb.
"Is it...?" I look closer, squinting. "It is you. Javi?" My voice feels small. I know his answer... even before he says it. His face is permanently imprinted on my brain.
The dark-haired man nods. "You were expecting the Easter Bunny?"
About the Author:
Natalie Wrye is a tequila connoisseur, Game of Thrones addict and author best known for writing page-turning Contemporary Romance and Romantic Suspense.
A Jersey Girl living in the South, when she's not obsessing over a new Netflix series or yelling at college basketball games on TV, she's usually crafting sexy stories about hard-bodied men and the strong-willed women who crave them.
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