A Thick Black Line
Bo Carmichael has drawn a thick black line around her heart, and with good reason. She has worked hard to overcome the anguish of betrayal and the devastation it wreaked in her family's lives, and she's now close to realizing her dreams. There simply isn't a place in this equation for emotional entanglements, especially not with Nic Sinclaire, the only man who has the ability to breach her defenses.
From their first encounter, an impossible chemistry rages between them a crackling heat that threatens to melt the ice surrounding her. A bizarre twist makes Nic a constant companion and self-appointed protector. As Bo's barriers shift and crumble, she can no longer ignore the powerful emotions his proximity evokes.
Author: Judah Raine
Narrator: R. Konnelly
$12.99
Excerpt:
He looked suddenly thoughtful. Still angry, no, very angry, but with a gleam of underlying speculation that should have been a warning on its own. But she hadn’t expected him to agree with her and the momentary surprise proved a dangerous distraction. “But maybe there’s a way we can settle this once and for all.”
“Really? Just like that?” Deliberately mocking. Even false bravado, maybe. But only cold amusement showed. She was bouncing back.
“Just like that. I can prove that I’m right.”
“Sure you can. And I’m Dick Whittington’s cat. You might as well—”
Bo never got to finish the sentence. His hands were hard on her shoulders, painful, his lips bruising and punishing and demanding. And relentless in their determination to conquer and control. Her protest cut short, Bo could only push and flail helplessly against his unyielding chest and the iron bands of his arms.
Angry, a little desperate, she continued to fight, struggling to free herself, to escape the callous demands of his kiss. Then, realising at last that resistance was futile, she stopped, forced herself into stone-like unresponsiveness. But, instead of the hoped-for freedom, it only made things worse.
With a soft, triumphant groan he pulled her even closer, his kiss deepening, teasing even, as his hand slid beneath her shirt to play hot and tantalising up and down her spine.
Even as her mind screamed a warning, Bo felt her resolve dissolving, felt herself slipping into a place beyond time and reason, where nothing seemed to matter except the burning, aching need to consume and be consumed. The rush and the heat and sheer abandon of it had her clinging to him, responding to him, her whole body moulding itself into his so that his strength was the only thing that kept her standing.
When Nic finally lifted his head, both of them were breathless, bemused, like travellers from another time finding themselves in strange, uncharted territory.
“The defence rests,” he said softly, his eyes holding hers, reading the desire that she couldn’t have hidden, even if she’d had the wits to think it. His voice rasped rough, raw with an emotion that frightened and excited, and seemed to speak more than his look ever could. “I think that effectively proves my point, don’t you?”
Then he was gone without even so much as a backward glance, releasing her so abruptly that Bo had to clutch onto the nearby table to steady herself. She felt weak, shaken, appalled by her reaction and the awful realisation that something—something huge and hungry and wilful—had been roused within her. What frightened her the most was that she had never even guessed that it was there.
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