Emerald Eyes

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An Excerpt From: EMERALD EYES

The night air smelled of jasmine. The neon signs above bars and restaurants lit up the dark. The instant the door shut behind her, Jonas closed the distance between them.

“It was killing me in there, not being able to kiss you.” Putting one hand on her waist, he used the other to tenderly caress her cheek. She lifted her face, enthralled by his masculine power as he backed her against the brick building and claimed her lips.

She wasn’t prepared for the pleasure that flooded her when his hot mouth moved against hers. For the joy that tumbled through her when his lips persuaded hers to open. For the fierce arousal that overtook her when his tongue slid between her lips.

She threw her arms around his neck, pressing tightly against him. Her breasts pushed against his broad chest, her nipples peaking. His tongue traveled slowly over her teeth, exploring, titillating. Then his fingers urged her into a different position and he thrust his tongue against hers. A murmur of pleasure shivered between them. Knees buckling, she tightened her grip on him.

He whispered hoarsely, “One taste of you and I feel drunk.”

Senses reeling, she tried to cool them both down by saying, “Maybe it’s the jambalaya. Leon puts wine in it.”

“It’s not the hot stew,” he said, pressing against her. “It’s the hot woman.” Without warning, his mouth was on her again, his teeth nipping at her neck. She threw her head back, her pussy clenching as he sucked and nibbled her flesh. His mouth roved up her neck to her jawline. He planted a quick row of kisses there, kisses that made her tremble against him.

God, how she wanted him to open her shirt and press his enticing mouth to her breasts. “You have to stop.” She moved her hands to his shoulders but couldn’t make herself push him away.

“I don’t want to stop,” he said. “Ever.”

“You have to stop so we can go to my house.”

Ignoring her, he sucked her earlobe. She whimpered, shivers of pure delight flowing down her neck. She tangled her fingers into his crisp waves of hair.

“Yeah, that’s good,” he muttered, kneading her butt. “I like feeling your hands on me.”

She wasn’t used to the waves of sexual arousal racking her body. Lord, in another moment she’d be unzipping his fly, rubbing against his cock until she satisfied the nagging ache inside her. Or pulling him into an alley and lifting up her skirt…

“Really, you have to stop,” she said. “Or I’ll be forced to arrest you.”

“That’s right, honey,” he said. “Arrest me. Restrain me. Take me to a dark room and interrogate me.”

The thought of being alone in a dark room with him set her pulse racing. His palm, molding and rubbing her butt cheek, stoked the fire he’d started deep within her.

“You can be the judge and jury too,” he went on. “Sentence me to a week in your bed. Force me to make you come over and over.”

Lord, that’s just what I need. She forced acidity into her voice. “Talk is cheap. We can’t do any of that in public.” We can’t. No matter how much I want him to take me this instant.

“You’re right. Damn it.” He released her and took a step back. “Where’s your car? I’ll follow you.”

“I came to work by bus. We’ll take your car.”

“Great. Just keep your hands to yourself until we get to your house.”

“I’ll attempt to control myself,” she said dryly. But it was harder than she thought as they walked up the street. She wanted to be in his arms again, inhaling his musky aftershave and drinking in his exciting caresses. Tingles of anticipation chased each other through her pussy as they approached his car.

“You’re the one who should be arrested, you know,” he said, opening the Jeep’s door for her.

“Arrested for what?”

He got into the driver’s seat. “Isn’t there a crime called ‘inducing panic’? You’re guilty of ‘inducing lust’.”

“Then I need to be punished too,” she said. She belted herself in, noticing the way his intent gaze fixed on her as she adjusted the seat belt between her breasts. “Sentence me to a spanking.”

He started the car. “Oh man! Did you have to put that idea in my head?” He gave her a wry look. “Don’t touch me—and don’t talk either.”

An Excerpt From: AS IT SHOULD BE

She woke slowly, her head groggy, her body overly warm. That’s it. No more wine. I’m too old for this. Feebly, she kicked at the blankets that seemed to be weighing her down, knowing full well that she would likely not be able to move them without waking up a little bit more.

Her heel came into contact with something hard.

“I knew if we were together long enough, you’d show your true colors,” a sleepy voice said. Something tightened around her waist and something else tickled across her nape. “I married a kicker. I think that should be our slogan on this year’s Christmas cards.”

Nora smiled automatically at the playful tone but as she fidgeted against the heat, a shiver ran down her spine.

She knew that voice. It had haunted her dreams for fifty years.

She bolted upright with far more strength than she realized, the blankets falling away from her as she whirled to face the man curled around her back. He blinked at her as his thick brows drew together in a frown but Nora was frozen at the sight of him.

The square jaw. The long nose. The tiny cleft in his chin she’d always said made him look like a movie star. The dark blond hair waving across his forehead, refusing especially now to behave itself.

And the deep blue eyes, currently gazing at her in confusion.

“What is it?” Marshall asked. “Did you have a bad dream?”

Nora covered her mouth to stifle the hysterical laugh that threatened to bubble out. A bad dream? His death and the time without him had been gut-wrenching.

But he looked the same as he had the day he’d died. And when she looked around the room and noticed the pictures hanging on the creamy walls, the cherry dresser they’d found for a song and refurbished, the shirt lying on the floor where Marshall had always dumped his clothes before crawling into bed, Nora felt like she was in a time warp.

Was she dreaming? She had to be. Everything looked like it had—

She leapt from the bed to run for the bathroom, tripping when the blankets tangled around her feet. As she kicked to get them off, she saw her bare legs for the first time, poking out from beneath the hem of her simple white nightdress.

Smooth. Firm.

She turned her hands around to stare at the back of her unlined fingers.

Young.

Marshall’s head appeared at the edge of the bed. “Is this going to be the new morning show?” he teased, resting his chin on his folded hands to gaze down at her. “Funny. But I think I like you being in the bed better than being next to it.”

Nora met his twinkling eyes and her stomach flip-flopped. Nobody but Marshall had ever created that effect in her. The chemistry between them had been undeniable, all the way from the start. They’d been introduced by her cousin at a Fourth of July picnic, spent the whole day talking and less than a year later had married. They couldn’t wait any longer, though Nora would’ve given Marshall what they both wanted far sooner than that. He had been the lone voice of reason, arguing he wasn’t going to put her in a situation to explain an early pregnancy in case something happened.

That didn’t stop either of them from going down on each other, though. Nora had gotten very good at blowjobs by the time she had a ring on her finger.

An Excerpt From: EMERALD GREEN

“That looks like it belongs on you.” The voice was deep and warm like honey.

Meredith turned her head and found herself pressed full length against the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen. Dark hair brushed the collar of his shirt and thick lashes framed whiskey-colored eyes. His tanned face, more rugged than handsome, had deep grooves etched into the sharp planes and a sharp scent drifted past her nose. Pulses throbbed instantly in her breasts and her cunt.

“Oh!” Her breath felt trapped in her lungs. “Thank you.”

She tried to move slightly away but his body enveloped her, keeping her in place. She knew she should feel threatened but instead she only felt turned on. The heat from his body was like a cloud of air around her and she could feel the thickness of his cock just touching her buttocks.

He must have gestured to a sales clerk, because in a moment the case was unlocked and the pendant lay displayed in its glory on the counter.

“Allow me.” He lifted it with long, slender fingers and fastened it around her neck.

As his hands fell away they brushed across her breasts, so briefly she wondered if in fact she’d imagined it. His fingertips lifted her chin and moved her head so she was looking into the mirror on the counter. The pendant glowed as if it was alive.

“I knew it,” he said, his hands resting on her shoulders. “It matches your eyes perfectly.” He bent his head so his lips were almost touching her ear. “Do you know in ancient times emeralds were coveted for their magical powers? They were believed to heighten sexual desire in women.”

Liquid dampened her panties and her nipples tightened. What was she doing here with this stranger, his voice slowly seducing her? She touched the little tree, running her fingertips over the miniscule stones, hardly aware that he was paying the clerk. Her eyes widened as he pocketed the receipt.

“I can’t let you buy this for me. It’s way too expensive. I don’t even know your name.”

“Connor.”

The smile undid her again.

“Oh. Well. Hello, Connor. Nice to meet you. And I still can’t allow you to pay for this.”

“But I just did.” He pressed his mouth to her ear again, his breath a sensuous feather against her skin. “And I have a pound of that fudge you were looking at so covetously. If you tell me your name, I might share it with you.”

“M-Meredith.” Oh, way to go. Tell your name to a perfect stranger. Be smart for a change and run as fast as you can. But her feet wouldn’t move.

“All right, Meredith.” He took her hand in his large, warm one and tugged her toward the door. “Why don’t we go find a place to indulge ourselves in this forbidden pleasure.” He smiled down at her. “Or any other one that comes to mind.”

She let him lead her outside, images of forbidden thrills dancing in her head. God, this was so unlike her. She had no idea what she was doing with him, let alone any man after her last disaster. But a feeling of recklessness gripped her and as he tucked her into his car she thought, Why the hell not?

“You know the Egyptians were the main provider of emeralds to the world for centuries,” he told her as they pulled away from the village. “Men gifted their women with them to help seduce them more easily.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” Her voice was shaky. “Seducing me?”

“Would you mind if I did?” His voice was like warm honey.

She didn’t know what to say, nor could she make words come out if she did. When his hand, which rested on her thigh, moved slightly higher, rational thought disappeared. His touch was magic, calling forth instant response from her body. His fingertips nestled in the crease between thigh and hip, sending tendrils of heat dancing along her skin. Moisture dripped from her pussy at the intimacy of his touch and tiny flutters pulsed in her vagina.

What’s happening to me?

An Excerpt From: KNIGHT’S EMERALD

Con artists should be shot and Varis Montgomery deserved a bullet.

Swearing out loud, Astrid Radcliffe released her pent-up anger. A deep chuckle caught her off guard. Looking for the source, her gaze scanned the jagged rocks reaching like a long finger dipping into the sea.

Balancing a jean-clad knee against a rock face, Montgomery raised his camera and pointed the lens toward her.

She resisted the urge to flip off her grandmother’s protégé.

A successful commercial photographer, Montgomery strived to be a painter. And thanks to her grandmother’s patronage, his work was beginning to cause a stir in the San Francisco art community.

But the man was nothing more than a slick thief. How much money had he conned from her failing grandmother?

Despite her weak heart Morga Lynfield Radcliffe had a sharp mind and she’d seen beyond the handsome masks of men with velvet tongues pursuing Astrid for her trust fund or those seeking a portion of the dwindling Radcliffe fortune for myriad inventions, investments and charities. So why hadn’t her grandmother looked beyond Montgomery’s chiseled face and green eyes? As Morga had often commented during their conversations, the man should have been in front of the camera not behind it.

Tonight, Astrid would finally learn the extent of the financial damage.

Turning her back to Montgomery and the sea, Astrid looked at the L-shaped three-story house built over a hundred years ago by her enterprising ancestor. Modeled after a seventeenth-century manor house, the foundation was stone, the façade a soft gray, the lines more solid than graceful. Maintaining the place was a constant burden, but Astrid loved her home with every fiber of her being. She’d grown up playing in the central courtyard and never tired of the stunning ocean views. Her gaze focused on the dormer windows poking out of the high-pitched roof. Recently her grandmother had renovated the unused servants quarters into an apartment, the entire third floor all for Montgomery.

Rejecting her grandmother’s attempts at matchmaking, Astrid had not only refused to date the photographer, she’d deliberately avoided him. But avoiding Montgomery didn’t prevent her from thinking about him, dreaming about him, imagining him naked and pondering the size his cock. The thought of him steel hard and deliciously long, the tip silken and burning hot came easily. Mentally, she dropped to her knees.

“Miss Radcliffe.”

Astrid started and turned. Her pulse leaped. Oh crap!

An Excerpt From: PERHAPS LOVE

Consciousness slowly seeped into Esmeralda’s brain and she registered it was morning by the rays of light filtering in from the windows. She stretched on the bed, unwilling to open her eyes just yet, wanting to rest a little bit more before starting on her journey for the day. She moaned at the silken texture of the sheets underneath her body and the sensuous enjoyment of her skin on contact with such fine cloth. Someone’s finger traced a line from her cheek to her throat and down the length of her bare arm.

“Beautiful,” a man’s reverent voice breathed.

Why was she naked? Who was in the room with her?

Her eyes snapped open and encountered a stern face, all sharp, chiseled angles, with thickly slashed green-hued eyebrows, ferocious emerald eyes, a large nose and hollowed-out cheeks. It was so at odds with the soft voice she had heard that for a moment, she found it hard to match the voice to the face she saw.

Then she remembered she was naked.

She screamed, slapped his hand away from her body and scrambled to find something to cover herself with. But there was nothing—no blankets, no pillows, nothing. So she scooted to the opposite side of the bed from him and drew her knees up in an attempt to retain her modesty.

“Who-who are you?” She hated herself for her quavering voice. “What did you do with my clothes? Give them back to me.”

“No mortal things can enter the Emerald Palace,” he thundered. He stood up and paced the length of the bed, glancing back at her once in a while. The robes he wore were the green of the forest and the hem swirled about his legs in interesting patterns. She noted with some fascination that the fitted sheet on the big bed was also green. On a hunch, she peered behind him and somehow, she wasn’t surprised to find the other furniture in the room and the walls and floor to be of the same color—though in a different shade—as the bed. The walls and the floor particularly drew her gaze. The sheen and brilliance of their surfaces brought to mind the clarity and polished appearance of the emerald.

She was dizzy for a moment. She had done it! She had reached the Emerald Palace.

Didn’t the man just confirm it? She recalled his words. “Mortal? But I’m mortal.”

He stopped and sat on a chair near the bed. His fierce stare intimidated her but it was the way he was looking at her that disturbed her and the intensity in his green eyes was doing strange things to her, making her weak and warm. Alarmingly, her nipples were peaking, the way they always did when in contact with the cold and she was puzzled at the growing wetness in the place between her thighs.

But she couldn’t look away from his gaze. She was captured, ensnared.