Wild: Pack of St. JamesFabio Boldly romantic, sinfully seductive, he's the dream lover of your most thrilling fantasies. With his sun-burnished hair and hypnotic blue eyes, he is whatever you want him to be--devil-may-care scoundrel or tender hero. Now he sweeps you away to the blazing sands of a tropical paradise, where emotions run high and desire is sensual, hot, and. . . Wild Working as a maid on the luxurious estate of a Miami businessman had its advantages--especially when A.J. Sutton met Marco Estevez With his bronzed good looks and explosive sexuality, Marco tempted A.J. as no other man ever had . . .enticing her into his arms and a passionate affair that knew no bounds. But that was before a shocking murder forced A.J. to change her name, her looks, and flee for her life. Only one other person knew what she had witnessed--the man whose seductive touch she couldn't resist. Now her dangerous desire for Marco would plunge her into a world of peril and sizzling passion, where she'd be torn between doubt and hope. . .between fear and a love that could keep her safe--if she dared to trust her heart. . . |
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... side. Compelling characters and chemistry. Mack does an excellent job maintaining sensuality and fire while keeping the reader firmly engaged in the story. Location and theme make this story stand out. A true page-turner.” —Romantic ...
... side. Compelling characters and chemistry. Mack does an excellent job maintaining sensuality and fire while keeping the reader firmly engaged in the story. Location and theme make this story stand out. A true page-turner.” —Romantic ...
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... side of her neck. He stroked the sensitive skin with his fingertips, easing away every trace of her nervousness. To be touched so tenderly felt wonderful. Blissfully aroused by what he was doing, Vivienne sighed, wishing she was not ...
... side of her neck. He stroked the sensitive skin with his fingertips, easing away every trace of her nervousness. To be touched so tenderly felt wonderful. Blissfully aroused by what he was doing, Vivienne sighed, wishing she was not ...
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... side. “You need not grin like that.” “Like what?” “Like a damned wolf.” Kyril laughed. “Perhaps I am one. I do follow my instincts and I can sense your mixed emotions.” “How?” “By what I see.” He gestured at her glass on the low table ...
... side. “You need not grin like that.” “Like what?” “Like a damned wolf.” Kyril laughed. “Perhaps I am one. I do follow my instincts and I can sense your mixed emotions.” “How?” “By what I see.” He gestured at her glass on the low table ...
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... released her and she let her arm fall to her side, feeling suddenly bereft. How had he ensnared her with such ease? “Kyril...when will I see you again?” She bit her lip. That had sounded far too eager. Almost girlish. Kyril only shrugged.
... released her and she let her arm fall to her side, feeling suddenly bereft. How had he ensnared her with such ease? “Kyril...when will I see you again?” She bit her lip. That had sounded far too eager. Almost girlish. Kyril only shrugged.
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... side, not very neatly. She looked at the titles imprinted in worn gold letters upon their spines and picked out one Kyril had given her months ago. Folktales, translated from the Russian. Vivienne kicked off her embroidered shoes. Then ...
... side, not very neatly. She looked at the titles imprinted in worn gold letters upon their spines and picked out one Kyril had given her months ago. Folktales, translated from the Russian. Vivienne kicked off her embroidered shoes. Then ...
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