You Are Mine(139)

She’d spent all day in a café, painstakingly doing the usual internet searches, trying to find something, anything, that could shed light on her brother’s death. Sixteen years since he’d supposedly died and she’d discovered nothing.

Until she’d gotten that call today.

God, she couldn’t wait to get off. She needed to discuss this with Honor.

Footsteps shuffled behind her as other people began to get to their feet in preparation for their stop.

Something hard pressed up against her side, making her stiffen in shock.

“If you scream, I’ll kill you,” a dark, deep male voice said in her ear.

Ice ran down her spine, the marrow in her bones freezing solid. She turned her head.

Cold black eyes. Scarred face.

He smiled. “You don’t want to die, do you, Violet?”





Read on for an excerpt from the next book by

JACKIE ASHENDEN

KIDNAPPED BY THE BILLIONAIRE

Coming soon from St. Martin’s Paperbacks





Elijah waited by the store counter, his hands in the pockets of his leather bike jacket. One hand curling around his gun, because shit, he had to hold onto something that reminded him of his goddamn purpose. Especially when he was also trying to quell the intense hard-on in his jeans.

He couldn’t get the sight of Violet out of his head. The way she’d pulled off his shirt and dropped it on the ground, then staring at him, her eyes full of challenge as she’d stood there completely naked.

Of course he’d known what he was in for when he’d joined her in the fitting room. And he’d known she wouldn’t be happy about it. But he hadn’t wanted to leave her there by herself, because who knew what she’d manage to get up to if he couldn’t keep an eye on her? He couldn’t afford any surprises like the one she’d sprung on him in the bathtub the day before.

He’d thought he could handle her. He’d thought he had himself under control enough that her taking off her clothes wouldn’t affect him in the slightest.

But he’d been wrong.

She’d walked towards him, her body smooth and golden and lushly curved, and he’d felt the weight of every single day of the past seven years of abstinence pressing down on him. Crushing him. Those small, high breasts he’d touched, stroked. The graceful indent of her waist and the swell of her hips. The soft thatch of golden curls between her thighs.

He’d gotten hard, so hard, almost instantly. And then she’d walked towards him, all determination, showing him she wasn’t afraid, getting right up close. He’d seen the triumph in those beautiful turquoise eyes of hers, had known he hadn’t hidden his desire from her as well as he’d thought.

So he’d had to assert himself somehow, show her he was still in control.

That didn’t work out so well, did it?

He could feel the heat of her skin against his palm even now. Smell the scent of her body, musk and sandalwood. He’d frightened her, and yet it hadn’t only been fear in her eyes; there had been heat there too.

All he’d been able to think about then was the way she’d been in his lap the day before, the way she’d arched into his hand, wanting more. A little cat wanting to be stroked.

Fuck, he’d wanted her. And that had made him so goddamned angry, because he knew that she was also playing him. That she was using the strange chemistry between them to get to him, probably using sex to change his mind about giving her to Jericho.

You should have just taken her.

His fingers curled on the gun, the metal warming beneath his palm. The fucking sales assistant was still talking on the phone, oblivious.

Perhaps he should have. He could have lifted her up against the door of the fitting room and unzipped his jeans, let her sink down on his cock, holding her there while he emptied himself of this ridiculous craving.

“I wouldn’t mind…”

Christ, that husky voice, the spark of pure blue in her eyes as she’d stared at him.… She’d wanted him too. But he’d known in that instant he couldn’t do it. It was hard enough managing his own hunger let alone hers, and bringing them together would be madness.

It would negate the whole of the last seven years.

Movement near the fitting rooms caught his attention and he turned to see Violet coming towards him, holding the empty hangers in her hands.

She wore a pair of tight fitting black leather pants, a silky looking green top, and a black leather bike jacket. It was such a change from her normal hippy looking outfits that he couldn’t help staring at her. Gone was the free-spirit in the chiming jewelry and brightly colored silk skirts. In her place was a tough biker chick with a guarded, wary expression.

He wasn’t sure if that was an improvement or not.