NIGHT HEAT by Desiree Holt

NIGHT HEAT by Desiree Holt

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Jill Danvers left Bluebonnet Falls ten years ago and never expected to go back. When Gabe Carter, the love of her life, married someone else she took the pieces of her shattered heart and ran as fast and as far as she could. But Gabe is chairing The Falls' bicentennial celebration and the magazine Jill writes for has assigned her to do a piece on it. The minute she walks into Gabe's office she discovers two things - she's as hot for him as she ever was, and Gabe isn't married.

Their feelings for each other explode and they heat up the nights, the sex hotter and more erotic than either thought possible. But there are still a lot of obstacles in their path. The former Mrs. Carter comes home determined to reclaim Gabe for herself and a nasty scandal is brewing over a new development meant to put Bluebonnet Falls on the map. A scandal that could involve everyone.

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An Excerpt From: NIGHT HEAT

Copyright © DESIREE HOLT, 2007

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Three glasses of wine later the sun had dipped below the horizon and evening shadows were streaking the trees when a cough woke her from the light doze she’d fallen into. She jerked upright, wine sloshing onto her hand, and turned her head.

Her eyes widened.

Gabe Carter stood at the gate to the yard wearing jeans, a clean chambray shirt and a hopeful expression on his face. In his hands he held a bouquet of seasonal flowers, a large box of chocolates and a six-pack of wine coolers. She burst out laughing. She couldn’t help herself. It was an exact reproduction of his arrival for their first real date. Her initial reaction was to tell him what he could do with his peace offerings but he looked so mouthwateringly good she thought twice about cutting off her nose to spite her face.

“I think I need to apologize for my earlier bad behavior.” His mouth turned up in a tentative grin. “Is it safe to come in?”

“At least for the moment.” She rose from the lounge chair and went to unlatch the gate, almost afraid to be near him again. “I’ll take the peace offerings, anyway.”

He followed her into the yard, setting the wine coolers and candy on the low table next to the lounge and handing her the flowers.

“They smell wonderful.” She looked up at him, her voice slightly unsteady. “Let me just put them in water and get another wineglass. Have a seat.”

“Jill?” There was no teasing humor on his face now.

“Yes?” She raised en eyebrow, watching him.

“I’m sorry. About ten years ago. About today. About a lot of things.”

Sorry. She was sorry too. For a lot of things. And underneath it all she didn’t want him to leave. The problem was, she didn’t know exactly what she did want.

Her hands shook as she found a vase, filled it with water and arranged the flowers. Gabe was here. He was here in her backyard. What did he want of her? After the blowup in his office she dreaded seeing him again. She was glad she’d had the wine to relax but she had to make sure she didn’t let her guard down. One wine cooler and she’d send him on his way.

Yeah, right.

Yes, right. Be smart.

“I thought I’d bring these out here until later. I can’t look at them if they’re in the house.”

Gabe rose to take the vase from her and their fingers connected lightly. They stared at each other, shocked by the intensity that ghost of a touch generated. Very carefully he lowered the vase to the table, his eyes never leaving hers, then he pulled her against his body.

Jill felt every inch of him, from his broad shoulders to his firm belly to his strong thighs to the bulge of his cock pressing against the fabric of his jeans. He bent his head toward her, waiting a fraction of a second to see if she objected before his mouth captured hers.

His lips were warm and firm, like rough silk brushing against hers and his teeth nibbled gently. When his tongue pressed against the seam of her lips she opened for him and he swept inside like a marauder, touching every inch of wet flesh. His hands gripped her shoulders, holding her tight against him while he devoured her mouth.

One hand slid from her shoulder to cup a breast through the thin material of her tee shirt, the nipple resting in his warm palm. She felt it harden and strain against the fabric as if seeking a permanent home in his hand. When he squeezed it gently she moaned softly into his mouth, His other hand slid down her back and reached to palm her buttocks, kneading the flesh with his long fingers.

God, how she remembered that touch. Her body had craved it now as much as it had then. She pressed herself harder against him and his hand snaked upward and into the waistband of her shorts. The feel of his hot erection pressed into her and she rubbed her mound against his cock, wishing the jeans would disappear.

Gabe lifted his head an inch, still so close his breath dusted her face. His eyes had a hungry look. “Jill, either tell me to stop or we’re taking this into the house. No way am I going to do what I have in mind out here on the lawn so the neighbors can have a show.”

Tell him to stop. Now.

“I-Inside,” she whispered.

He nodded and picked her up in his arms, carrying her into the house as he had done so many times that long-ago summer. The way to her bedroom wasn’t something he’d forgotten. He snapped on the lamp and stood her beside the bed like an expensive piece of statuary, then very slowly undressed her.

She shivered in anticipation as he removed each item of clothing, the gentle movement of air drifting in from the open window raising gooseflesh on her exposed skin. He touched every inch of her—her shoulders, her breasts, her nipples, the indentation of her waist. His fingertip skimmed her navel then followed a line to her pubic hair, his fingers combing through it. With a gentle stroke he followed the line of her cunt, separating her thighs to give him easy movement.

How many nights during that summer had they spent in this room while her folks traipsed around the country in their RV or were off on golf weekends? They’d explored each other’s bodies, learning the many ways to give each other pleasure? She wanted to be angry with him, to tell him of the misery she’d suffered, to make the blame all his. But he’d come calling tonight with flowers and chocolates and a kiss that seared her down to her toes. And the years were gone as if they’d never happened. At least for this one moment in time.

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DELICIOUS DANGER by Desiree Holt

DELICIOUS DANGER by Desiree Holt

Book 3 in the Phoenix Agency series.

Kelly was shocked when her Caucasian Ovcharka Xena bonded with Rick Latrobe. The dogs are known for linking with only their owners. She's even more shocked at the intense sexual heat that sizzles between her and Rick. When she tumbles into bed with him at the very first opportunity, experiencing a night of erotic bliss in his arms, she knows they have something special.

But Xena is very much aware when an attempt is made on Rick's life, and the dog drives Kelly crazy with signals of danger as a shipment of arms is stolen in Iraq. Rick is nearly killed and Kelly and Xena are ferried to the secret clinic he's taken to. As Rick heals and they race to find the mastermind behind the plot, the sex between them heats to the boiling point.

Publisher's Note: You just can't keep a good story down. Previously published as Scent of Danger with The Lotus Circle and then Cerridwen Press, this book has been revised and the bedroom door opened for Ellora's Cave.

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An Excerpt From: DELICIOUS DANGER

Copyright © DESIREE HOLT, 2011

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One



“Granddad?” Kelly Monroe finished checking the air pressure on her truck tires and called out to her grandfather standing by the hangar. The vacation in Key West had been great and the visit here in Maryland with her grandfather even better. But now it was time to get home and back to work. Maine was still many long hours on the road away.

Harry Monroe disconnected the call he was taking, shoved his cell phone in his pocket and jogged slowly over to the truck. At seventy he was still fit and jogging didn’t even wind him. “I sure wish you’d stay longer,” he told her. “I don’t get to see you nearly enough.”

“I’d try to coax you up to Maine but I know being in charge of the Phoenix Agency airfield and running security on their craft doesn’t leave you much time for visiting.”

The Phoenix Agency, a top security agency that took jobs for both the government and private industry, was based in Maryland. Headed by the charismatic Dan Romeo, he and his four partners had built its reputation on the quality of their work. All former military, they each brought an area of expertise to the business. Harry had been recommended to them by Dan’s former commanding officer in the Marines and it had given the retired sergeant a new lease on life.

“They could spare me for a few days,” he protested.

She grinned at him. “We’ll see. You were there for me when Mom and Dad were killed but I wasn’t a kid, Granddad. And you needed to do something besides rock and read. I’m glad you have this.”

“Me too,” he chuckled. “And the guys are very good to me.”

“As well they should be.”

“You should stay the night,” he told her. “It’s late in the day. Too late to be starting out.”

“We’ll camp out about halfway there. No problem.”

“It’s a problem to me,” he grumbled.

“I promise we’ll be fine.”She turned to a large dog sitting quietly by the hangar, watching them intently. “Hey, Xena. Come on, girl. We’ve got to get going.”

Kelly had bought the Caucasian Ovcharka from a breeder seven years ago as a gift to herself on her twenty-first birthday. Unlike any other dog she’d ever seen, Xena had deep-set, dark eyes and ears densely covered with fur. The shoulders were slightly raised from the back and the tail had a heavy feathering of fur. With long forelimbs and large heavy paws, she looked exactly like what she was—a guard dog. And she guarded Kelly well, in many ways.

“Come on,” Kelly called again. “Quit stalling.”

“I think she wants to stay,” Harry said.

“Oh, honestly.” She started toward Xena at a slow trot, motioning to the dog as she moved. She hadn’t taken ten steps before the one-hundred-thirty-pound body flew through the air like a shot and landed directly in front of her.

Kelly pulled up short. “What the heck?”

“You nearly tripped over that hose you didn’t see,” Harry pointed out.

“Is that it, girl?” Kelly knelt and threaded her fingers through the dog’s fur. “Were you taking care of me again?” She fixed her gaze on the dog’s. “Yes, you’re right. I need to pay more attention.”

“I swear.” Harry scratched his head. “You and that dog read each other’s minds. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Don’t joke. Ovcharkas are known for certain psychic abilities. Xena’s have saved my butt more than once.”

“You were always like that with animals. Knowing what was wrong with them. What they wanted. Having silent conversations with them. But with Xena?” He shook his head. “It’s the weirdest thing. That’s just something else.”

“She’ll take good care of me on the way home too. Don’t you worry.” She kissed the dog’s black nose. “Come on, girl. Into the truck. Time to hit the road.”

“Don’t you even want to meet any of the guys? They always ask about you. The one time you show up they’re all busy with something.”

“Next time,” she told him. “I promise we’ll stay a little longer.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” But he said it affectionately.

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EXTRASENSORY by Desiree Holt

EXTRASENSORY by Desiree Holt

Book 2 in the Phoenix Agency series.

Mia battles with skepticism about her precognitive skills. But her visions about Carpenter Techtronics are so vivid she sends anonymous emails. She also has a vision of a gorgeous naked man who arouses her so vividly she is forced to satisfy herself. She is shocked when the man shows up in her office sending her silent erotic messages.

Dan is helping Chase track down whoever is threatening Chase's company. When he meets Mia he has a hard time thinking about anything but off-the-charts sex with this intriguing woman. But bodies begin falling. As Mia's visions escalate so does the explosive sex between her and Dan as well as an unexpected emotional connection. When Mia is shot and almost killed, Dan and his team race to find the killers before they can strike again.

Publisher's Note: You just can't keep a good story down. Previously published as VISIONS OF DARKNESS with The Lotus Circle and then Cerridwen Press, this book has been revised and the bedroom door opened for Ellora's Cave.

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An Excerpt From: EXTRASENSORY

Copyright © DESIREE HOLT, 2011

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One



Where was the damn helicopter? They couldn’t hold these bastards off much longer.

Dante “Dan” Romeo wiped his forehead on the sleeve of his camo shirt and slammed another magazine into his rifle. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to turn out, although they always had to prepare for it. A sign over his desk back in Baltimore read, “Nothing in life is ever simple.” In his business, Dan Romeo considered it a motto.

He was so sure their mission had been successful. Five days ago Drummond Laboratories had placed an emergency call to Phoenix, the agency in which Dan was the senior partner. Drummond’s CEO, Hank Nolan, had been captured by guerillas in Mexico, the kidnap capital of the world. They’d snatched him right off the street in Acapulco where he’d been vacationing with his family.

The people from Drummond made sure Phoenix understood the feds could not be involved. The guerilla group had threatened to cut off Nolan’s head if the feds were contacted. Cut their losses, so to speak. These kidnap-for-ransom groups were getting bolder every day, especially in Mexico.

Drummond didn’t balk for an instant at the fee Dan quoted him.

So Dan had put the team together and using bribes, snitches and other sources of information, they’d found the location of the guerilla camp. They’d suited up and Mike D’Antoni, pilot extraordinaire and another of the partners, dropped them into the humid, insect-infested Mexican jungle. Where they were going was definitely not a vacation spot.

They hiked to the camp location in stealth mode, using the sounds of the jungle animals as cover for their movements as often as they could. Then they concealed themselves in the surrounding jungle. Watching. Waiting. Timing the guards. Identifying where Nolan was being held. Learning the rhythm of the camp. For Dan, a former Force Recon Marine, jobs like this were no different from the missions he’d led in Afghanistan and Iraq. The same methods applied.

At last, when they’d gathered sufficient information, the men put their plan together. Waiting until full dark and with the covertness they’d learned from years in the military, they made their way to the rear of the camp. Silently, the team working like a well-oiled piece of machinery, all the parts moving as designed, they took out the two guards in front of the shack where Nolan was being held. Then, moving swiftly, they backed out of the camp, half-carrying Nolan, until they reached the safety of the surrounding flora and fauna.

As soon as they were far enough away to use the satellite radio safely, Dan had called in for extraction and Mike radioed he was on his way to get them. The two men set their coordinates and the team took off to meet the chopper. But Nolan had been tied up for two weeks and half-starved. In his deteriorated condition he had trouble keeping up, so they finally had to carry him. That delayed them and gave the kidnappers, when they realized their prize was gone, time to take off after the rescue team with AK-47s and other assorted weapons.

Now Dan and his group were pinned down at the extraction point and the guerillas were moving closer. Machine-gun bullets rained everywhere, punctuated by the screech of the howler monkeys and the squawking of tropical birds. Dan could only pray the kidnappers didn’t have rocket-propelled grenades with them. That could take down not just the team but the helicopter too. Disaster didn’t begin to describe what that outcome would be.

Then, at last, he heard the distinctive slap! slap! slap! of the helicopter blades and his comm unit crackled in his ear.

“I am above you and ready to extract,” Mike said. “Looks like you need a little covering fire.”

“No shit,” Dan answered. “Get that ladder down and have the shotgun riders start peppering these bastards.”

The chopper now hovered directly over them. Someone pitched the rope ladder from the open cabin door and it hung tantalizingly in the air. Two Phoenix men were balanced on the chopper skids, spraying the area around them with machine-gun fire. The occasional shrieks let everyone know that at least some of the bullets had found a target.

Dan hoisted Nolan onto the ladder and motioned for one of the guys in the cabin above just to pull the damn thing up. In seconds the man was inside the chopper and the ladder dropped again. Firing into the surrounding area as they climbed, aided by the gunners above them, each man scrambled up to the helo’s cabin, then reached to help the one behind him.

Dan was last, as usual, holding to the ladder with one hand and his machine-gun with the other. He was gratified to hear more screams of pain as hands pulled him through the opening to safety.

“Go now,” he shouted to Mike, who needed no urging to pull away and up. As they lifted into the sky, the two Phoenix gunners continued to fire until the chopper reached a safe altitude.

“Sorry to cut it so close, Danny boy,” Mike yelled at him. “We had to wait for some other air traffic to clear. They didn’t look like they wanted to invite us for afternoon cocktails.”

“These damn thugs are getting better equipped all the time,” Dan cursed. “We’re having to run our asses off just to stay ahead of them.”

He looked around him and studied the activity. The men were all checking their guns, making sure they had full clips just in case a surprise awaited them somewhere along the line. The medic on their team was attending to Hank Nolan, expertly starting an IV even under the extreme conditions and then cleaning his wounds.

“Mostly malnutrition,” he told Dan over the roar of the chopper’s blades. “And shock. He’ll be a long time forgetting this little trip.”

Dan leaned back against the cabin wall, regulating his breathing, checking again to make sure everyone else was okay.

“You earned yourself a little downtime after this,” Mike yelled from the cockpit. “Don’t you think? A break from the office? Maybe a little R and R?”

Dan gave his partner a lopsided grin. He knew what that meant. Get your ass out of town and get some rest before taking on another mission. Give your body some rest. He had to agree that Mike was right. At forty-three years old, he was getting a little past the age for this kind of activity.

“Chase Carpenter invited me to come to San Antonio,” he replied. “His company has created a sophisticated new robot that supposedly is undetectable and can do everything but sing and dance. He’s having a big unveiling next Friday, with lots of military brass, top cops and international corporations. He thought it might be something the agency could use.”

Mike grinned. “Knowing Chase it’s a high ticket item. Do we get a discount for being friends?”

Dan laughed. “I’ll ask him.”

“You ought to take him up on it,” Mike insisted. “And while you’re there, you could see Mark and Faith.” Mike chuckled. “And interrupt his vacation.”

Mark Halloran was the newest partner in Phoenix. He and his wife, a best-selling author of political thrillers, were both telepaths, and that psychic ability had been the single reason for Mark’s own rescue from terrorists in Peru. At the time he’d been a Delta Force team leader. A highly-placed defense department official, taking payoffs from the arms dealer Mark’s team was sent to take out, had blown the whistle on the mission. Only Mark and one member of his team survived the ambush they walked into.

Joey Latrobe, whose brother was a Phoenix partner, had managed to hide himself from the terrorists even though he was seriously wounded. The details of his rescue were yet another story.

Mark had been held in the terrorist camp and his only communication with the outside world had been the telepathic messages he exchanged with Faith. Like a raging virago, she’d taken on Washington and the Pentagon and when no one else would help her, had turned to Phoenix, even going along on the rescue mission.

Dan had to smile now when he thought of her courage. It would be nice to see her again.

“Maybe I’ll do that,” he said. “But not before taking the world’s longest shower and eating the biggest steak I can find.”


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JUNGLE INFERNO by Desiree Holt

JUNGLE INFERNO by Desiree Holt

Book 1 in the Phoenix Agency series.

For Faith and Mark, the telepathic connection they'd shared for years was nothing compared to the scorching physical connection they realized as adults. From the first moment they came together, erotic was too pale a word to describe their relationship. Together they explored each other’s deepest, darkest desires.

But now Mark, survivor of an ambush to his Delta Force team, is a prisoner of a terrorist group in the Peruvian jungle, and his telepathic communication with Faith is his only contact with the world. While she searches for help to save him, they survive on dreams that took them beyond all sexual boundaries.

Publisher’s Note: This story was previously published elsewhere under the title ALWAYS ON MY MIND and has been revised for Ellora’s Cave.

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An Excerpt From: JUNGLE INFERNO

Copyright © DESIREE HOLT, 2011

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One



Damn!

Faith Wilding stared at her computer monitor in frustration, the screen empty except for the annoying cursor winking at her. The first three chapters of her latest political thriller were due to her agent by the end of the month and she hadn’t even written the first word. Not once since she’d sold her first manuscript had she ever been stricken with writer’s block. Today, however, it seemed as if something had swept her mind bare, knocking out every word or phrase that might be taking root.

She looked around her den, usually a place of comfort and inspiration. The warm earth tones on the rug that had been her grandmother’s were an accent on the polished hardwood floor. The couch and chair, covered in navy denim, showed traces of wear from all the times she’d lain or sat there reading manuscript drafts. The walls were lined with family pictures, faces smiling down on her with encouragement and support.

Usually this room unlocked her mind and opened the gates for her thoughts to flow freely. Not tonight. She could have been sitting in a sterile room for all the good it was doing her.

She rotated her head, easing the tension in her neck and shoulders. Maybe she should fix another cup of her favorite chai tea. Its energy might kick-start her brain.

I need you.

The familiar voice blasted through her mind.

Mark! Oh God, Mark.

Stunned, she tried to focus her thoughts but a white-hot pain pierced her body, stealing her breath. She clenched her fists against it and as it faded an image of Mark’s face, bruised and lined with pain, flashed briefly and was gone.

Faith leaned back in her chair, using the skills she’d been taught to control her breathing and slow her racing pulse. Running her hands up and down her arms she discovered a fine sheen of perspiration on her skin.

Mark!

She tried to pull the image back but it was gone.

Need you…captured…

Captured! Dear God. He’d reached out to her from wherever he was. But how could she find him? He could be anywhere. She felt as if a part of her body had been severed. Closing her eyes and pushing everything else from her brain, she concentrated on sending a reply.

I heard you. Where are you?

She sat perfectly still, eyes still tightly shut, blocking out everything else, focusing as she’d been taught, to strengthen her message.

Mark?

She waited but the only thing that answered her was the heavy silence. Either his strength had given out or something—or someone—had blocked him.

Finally she pushed her chair away from the desk and headed to the kitchen on legs not quite steady. Tea was definitely in order.

The last time she’d heard from Mark Halloran was two years ago. That time she’d been sitting in a Starbucks drinking a mocha latte and checking her schedule on her PDA when the message hit her. Startled, she’d nearly spilled her coffee and looked around to make sure he wasn’t just standing two feet away.

Hello, darlin’.

That whiskey-smooth voice had warmed her blood and made her smile. And remember the one long weekend they’d had together before he’d left on a mission.

Hi. Where are you?

Far away.

An image of him in a helicopter danced before her eyes, helmet securely on his head, rifle and other gear strapped to his body. As a Special Ops soldier, a member of the famed Delta Force, he was always in some far corner of the world on a mission that no one could discuss. Usually he was concentrating so hard on what he was doing there was no opportunity to clear his mind and reach out to her.

Miss you, came the next message.

Me too. You’ll never know how much. You still have my heart.

The image had changed to one of him naked, grinning, his blue eyes laughing at her. Her body had heated and every pulse point had begun to throb. She’d looked around her carefully, sure every eye was on her but everyone had appeared to be attending to their own business. She’d carried that short message and those images with her for a long time.

And now, tonight’s message. Shocking in its pain. Mark, stolid and steadfast. Bastion of strength. A soldier with special skills who’d stared at death more times than she’d ever know about. Mark never asked for help. The anguish in his voice filled her with a sense of dread. Fear drenched her and a cold knot of it tightened in her stomach. For him to send her this message the situation had to be out of control.

But where was he? What had happened to him? And what was wrong that the only cry for help he could get out was telepathically to her?

Leaning against the counter, sipping the hot tea, she thought about the first time they’d discovered their telepathic ability to communicate.

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DOWNSTROKE by Desiree Holt

DOWNSTROKE by Desiree Holt

It's been twenty years since security specialist Charley Roper and country star Dallas Creed had their bitter parting. Now a killer has brought them together again, but neither is ready for a reunion - despite signs that their explosive chemistry hasn't waned with time. She can't forget the feel of his hands on her body. He can't forget the hot touch of her mouth. When they finally tumble into bed, the sex is just as good as they remember, hot enough to singe the sheets. But is it enough?

Thrown together during an exhausting, frenzied concert tour, with a killer nipping at their heels, Dallas and Charley find themselves on a hot, suspenseful, erotic roller coaster ride. Can he convince her to trust her heart to him one more time, to reach out for a richer, deeper, more mature love?

More importantly - can Charley keep Dallas alive long enough for either of them to enjoy a second chance?

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An Excerpt From: DOWNSTROKE

Copyright © DESIREE HOLT, 2011

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One

One week later



I stood in the back of the Baker Amphitheater, leaning against the brick half-wall that separated the seats under the roof from those on the lawn, wondering for the hundredth time what the hell I was doing here. It wasn’t that I’d never been to a concert before. I’d been to plenty, running security detail for high-profile musicians. But I’d never been to a Dallas Creed concert. A deliberate choice, one I’d stuck to until tonight. Morgan Creed, Dallas’ brother, had given me a ticket to the performance with a seat right down front, but I didn’t want to be that close to the man yet. Or give him a chance to see me.

When Dallas Creed and I destroyed our relationship twenty years ago, I stumbled away from it with my heart bleeding and swore never to lay eyes on him again. I had loved him with an intensity that consumed me and I’d been so sure he felt the same way. Then he dropped his bombshell, leaving me emotionally wiped out, with a bitter outlook on love and a determination never to be hurt again.

All these years I’d managed to hide behind an invisible wall, refusing to buy any Dallas Creed albums, as if by ignoring his music I could ignore the man. But his songs were played everywhere and television covered him like green on grass, so avoiding him completely had been next to impossible. It bothered me after a while to discover I actually liked listening to him. Despite that, I was definitely finished with the man. Over and done. Finis.

When he’d had his disastrous accident I hadn’t even called to find out how he was, afraid to open old wounds and let my heart bleed all over the place again. The man was just plain poison to me. Or maybe we’d poisoned each other. I didn’t know anymore; only knew that I’d survived by keeping my distance all these years. We’d been too obsessed with our own careers to care enough about each other to compromise. The blame was certainly not all his. In that secret place that I’d deliberately hidden away, I knew that. I was equally as guilty as him. It just made it easier for me to lay everything at his door.

Yet here I stood, waiting for the show to begin. I wondered not for the first time what had driven him to the excess of drugs and booze that led to the accident, and why he was so determined to put himself through the agony of the climb back to the top.

Stop!

I mentally shook myself. I didn’t want to know and didn’t care. Silently I repeated it over and over to myself, much as I had to Morgan Creed when he’d appeared in my office two days ago…



Just seeing him, with his close resemblance to his brother, was a kick in the stomach. Same dark blond hair, same smoky gray eyes, same lean build and loose-hipped walk. The smile was a little tighter, the eyes not quite as intense, but add a couple of years and it could have been Dallas standing in front of me.

Thank god it wasn’t. I used every bit of my willpower not to affect an air of disdain.

“Whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested.”

“You’ve done very well for yourself,” he commented, ignoring me and looking around at my surroundings. “I’m impressed. There aren’t too many women who’ve reached this level in your business.”

He was right about that. Roper Protective Services was my baby, probably the only one I’d ever have, and it had grown and prospered. My love life might suck but otherwise, I was great. In the central computer system was a file that gave the location and assignment of every agent at all times. Just outside the office door my secretary worked steadily, updating the current files. Down the hall, any operatives who weren’t already on the road were planning for their next assignments and tying up loose ends from the last one.

Yes, I’d done well. I’d gotten the success I’d obsessively believed was so important. But had I paid too high a price? That was something I chose not to think about.

“You have a great reputation in the industry,” Morgan went on. “You’re known for providing the best security for iconic figures.”

“Iconic?” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm from my voice. “Exactly what does that mean?”

“You know damn well what it means, Charley. And you know you’re the best.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think you came here to pay me a compliment.” I fiddled with a pen on my desk, needing something to do with my hands. “I was shocked when I saw your name on the appointment schedule.”

And that wasn’t the only reaction I’d had. When I’d seen Morgan’s name on the calendar it had reminded me of Dallas, a sharp sensation like a punch to the gut. It invaded my body, stirring up memories and emotions I’d worked so long to keep under lock and key.

“You could have called me and cancelled,” he pointed out.

Which I probably should have. “The message said it was important.”

He smiled, the same little boy smile Dallas had, the one the Creed brothers apparently never lost. My stomach knotted and my mouth went dry. No, no, no. Not after all this time. Would I never recover from my shattered heart? By sheer effort of will I managed to block Dallas’ face from my mind.

“And you were curious about what I wanted.”

I kept my face impassive. “Mildly.”

“But not about Dallas,” he added softly.

Yes! No! Go away, Morgan.

“My personal interest in Dallas Creed has long since disappeared. I don’t want to know anything about him.” I dropped the pen and picked up my coffee mug. Anything to keep Morgan from seeing just how much discussing Dallas unsettled me. “I have to say, though, he’s certainly had a long ride.”

Morgan nodded. “The majority of performers like him peak after five years, slide back down to appearing in clubs, then retire before people begin to feel sorry for them.”

“But not Dallas.”

He nodded. “But not Dallas. And I’ll be goddamned if I can figure out why. Maybe because he’s neither pure country nor pure rock. He crosses over, a very important thing in success in the music industry.”

He paused.

“And?” I prompted.

“And…he’s just got something…indefinable that takes him to the top and keeps him there. Not once but twice. Charley, he’s bigger this time than he ever was.”

I shrugged and sat up straighter. Why was I even listening to this? It killed me to realize that after twenty years, my emotions could still be so raw that just discussing Dallas made them bleed around the edges.

“Not my business. I’m just interested in why you might need my services. I thought all promoters had security.”

“That’s basically to keep people from rushing the stage and weird things like that.” I couldn’t mistake the tension in his voice. “Or keep a lid on the groupies.”

I made a rude noise. “That must not go over very big. Keeping the groupies away.”

The look Morgan shot me was hard but he didn’t comment. Instead he walked to the big window and stood there, hands in his pockets. When he finally spoke again, I had to work hard to conceal my shock at what he said. The very last thing I’d expected him to tell me was that someone was trying to kill Dallas. That there had already been three attempts and he was getting threatening notes as well.

“Kill Dallas?” I still couldn’t wrap my mind around it. “Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

“But who would want to kill him? He’s just a…”

“Singer? Performer?” He turned to look at me. “When you reach that level of fame there’s always someone out there making you a target. Failed wannabes. Discarded groupies. Someone with an imagined slight.”

“Why not just report it to the police?” I asked.

“Because I have no one to point the finger at. No place for them to dig. And it would just throw the tour into chaos.”

“Oh yes.” I couldn’t keep the tinge of bitterness from my voice. “Let’s be sure nothing happens to the tour.”



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UNTIL MIDNIGHT by Desiree Holt and Cerise DeLand

UNTIL MIDNIGHT by Desiree Holt and Cerise DeLand
Book 2 in the Nemesis Series

She's a strong woman who runs her own high-profile security and protection agency. He's a burned-out agent with Mossad on a personal crusade. But when Adam Molloy saves Nicole Wells' life at a Mexican resort, circumstances bind them together. Not to mention the instant chemistry that is so hot it rivals the Mexican sun. One predatory kiss and Nicki's body melts. They may be after drug dealers and killers, but there's plenty of time for powerful orgasms and inventive erotic activities.

It's soon evident that her would-be killer and Adam's crusade intersect. The chase takes them from the Yucatan Peninsula to Washington, D.C., to a private island in the Bahamas. And the sex takes them to a new level of physical pleasure. Can they win this chase and escape the danger before the killers strike again? And will the pleasure last Until Midnight and for many midnights after that?

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An Excerpt From: UNTIL MIDNIGHT

Copyright © DESIREE HOLT & CERISE DELAND, 2011

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One



Nicole Welles drew in a deep breath, inhaling the salt-scented air and listening to the rhythmic lap of ocean waves against the sand. She consciously forced every muscle in her body to relax.

The last two weeks had been a bitch. Financially rewarding but no less than a trip to hell deserved. Nemesis had been contracted by Macmillan Global to retrieve their boss who had been kidnapped by one of the largest drug cartels and held for ransom. Since this particular cartel was known for returning their hostages more dead than alive, Macmillan wanted the boss out right now.

They’d done it. She’d led the team herself. There had been some bloodshed but fortunately not on their side. Now she was trying to decompress in a bungalow at a very private, very exclusive resort on the beach in tiny Costalegre near Puerto Vallarta.

She was thinking about heading back to the villa for a shower and turned over to fish her watch out of her beachbag when a heavy thunk! sounded behind her. Instinctively her brain registered what it was and she rolled off the lounge onto the sand, grabbing for her beachbag where her 9mm was stashed. When she lifted her eyes to see what was happening they were met by a pair of very tanned legs dusted with dark hair.

“I have a gun,” she said, pointing it upward.

“So do I.” The voice was deep and almost gravelly. “Fucking lot of good yours would do you if I planned to kill you. You’d already be toast.”

Keeping a two-handed grip on the gun, she rolled lithely to her knees and then to her feet. Inches away from her stood what she could only think of as a man who was menacingly sexy. And tall. Much taller than she was, which was a trick since she was five ten. Shaggy black hair framed a face defined by deep grooves in the cheeks, a square jaw and startling blue eyes beneath heavy brows and thick lashes.

Dressed in a loose shirt and shorts, every bit of his muscular body she could see was deeply tanned. And the gun he was holding was even bigger than hers. An Israeli Desert Eagle, one she was very familiar with.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“The man who just saved your life.” His voice was deep and hoarse as if he’d been shouting for a long time. “Who are you?”

“What do you mean, saved my life?”

He looked up and down the private stretch of beach, empty except for the two of them. As far as Nicki knew, only three of the resort’s bungalows were occupied at the moment.

“Put away your gun and I’ll show you.”

Put away the gun? She stared at him for a long moment, something weird sizzling between them, then lowered the 9mm to her side.

“That’s as put away as it’s going to get until I know what’s going on around here.”

“Come on.”

He, too, lowered his gun and closed steel fingers around her wrist, tugging her toward the thick groves of palm and coconut trees bordering the beach. Carefully pulling back a prickly bougainvillea he pointed at a body shoved against the roots of the shrub.

Nicki stared. “Who’s that?”

“Since it’s you he was trying to kill, I thought perhaps that was a question you could answer.” His voice had a faint accent to it, one that Nicki was having trouble placing.

She crouched down to get a better look at the body. Dressed in faded jeans and a dark t-shirt, he had the definite darker skin and features of a Hispanic.

“I’d say Mexican at first glance.” She noted the bullet hole in the back of his head and looked up at the man standing next to her. “Your work?”

He nodded. “I was walking down to the beach and saw him lining up to blow your brains out.”

“Look at him. What’s he doing here?” Nicki peered through the dense foliage that crowded the crushed shell pathways. “This place only has eight bungalows and the owners are very particular who occupies them.”

The man made a sound suspiciously like a grunt. “Tell me about it. And they’ve got enough guards here to protect a third world country.”

She nodded. “People like him can’t just walk onto the grounds and wander around at will.”

“So.”

She stood up, still holding her gun by her side. “Yes, so.” Shifting her gun to her left hand she extended her right one. “Since you saved my life I guess I should introduce myself. Nicole Welles.”

His grip was firm and warm, but Nicki wasn’t prepared for the little currents of electricity that raced through her body when their skin made contact. She schooled herself to retrieve her hand smoothly rather than yank it away, her first reaction.

“Adam Molloy.”

They stared at each other.

“Well, then.” She looked down at the body again. “We need to do something about the trash here.”

“I don’t think we want to take him up to the main building and call the police. Someone sent him. He didn’t conjure this up all by himself. Let’s stash him somewhere and let his bosses wonder what happened to him.”

She looked at him with a speculative gaze. “Interesting solution. Are you someone I should be afraid of?”

He smiled, white even teeth flashing against his dark skin and one dimple winking at the corner of his mouth. “Hey, I’m the guy who saved your life, remember?”

“Yeah, but you could have done that to get close to me.” She took a cautious step backward.

“If I wanted you dead, Miss Welles, you’d already be lying here next to this idiot.”

She realized suddenly that she was wearing the tiniest bikini she’d been able to find and Adam Molloy was letting his eyes take a slow journey over her body. She turned slightly so he couldn’t see the instant puckering of her barely covered nipples. Well, wasn’t this a fine mess. She had no idea who this man really was, who the man was who’d tried to kill her, and her body, all on its own, was thinking about sex.

“Let’s clean the place up.” Molloy’s deep voice cut into her thoughts. He shoved his gun into the waistband of his shorts at the small of his back and lifted the body as if it weighed nothing, hard muscles flexing beneath the tanned skin. “Why don’t you gather your belongings from the beach while I handle this…situation. I’ll be back in a minute.”

He strode away without waiting for an acknowledgment from her.

Nicki stared after his figure as it disappeared onto the trees. What an arrogant ass. And who exactly was Adam Molloy that he was staying in this very private place? Besides a walking sex machine, that is.

Nicole! Snap out of it. Find out what the hell is going on.

She stomped back to where her things still lay next to the lounge she’d been using. Picking up the sarong that matched her bathing suit, she wrapped it around herself and knotted it under one arm. She stowed her gun in her beachbag, drew the drawstring tight and slung it over her shoulder. She was halfway back to her bungalow when tall, dark and mysterious Adam Molloy materialized seemingly out of nowhere.

She stopped in the middle of the path. “Finished already? What did you do, feed him to the fish?”

There was that smile again, making her knees suddenly week and the pulse deep in her womb thump out its rhythm. Holy shit! Nicole Welles never reacted this way. Not to any man. Oh, she was far from a stranger to sex but it was always carefully planned and on her terms. She never allowed herself to react this way.

It must be the situation. It’s not every day someone tries to assassinate me.

“In a matter of speaking. I’ll tell you all the gory details if you buy me a drink.”

“I don’t think I’m much in the mood for the bar. And I’d like to try to find out who that idiot with the gun is. Was.”

He took her arm and urged her along. Her feet moved as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Me, neither. But I’ll bet your bungalow has a fully stocked bar. I know mine does.”

She stopped, pulling against his hold. “We’re not going to your bungalow.”

“No. We’re going to yours.” He tugged her forward again. “Don’t you want to figure out who that guy is and how he got here?”

“I don’t think the answers are at my place.”

“Right. That’s where we’re going to talk about this and dig for answers. Come on.”

She found herself at the door to her bungalow, wondering how he even knew which one was hers. Oh, right. With so few people on the grounds he’d probably scoped out all the guests as soon as he checked in. And when exactly had that been?

“Aren’t you going to open the door?” He had just a touch of amusement in his voice. “It’s not polite to keep people standing outside. Not to mention possibly dangerous.”

Nicki pulled out her key card, shoved it into the slot and pushed the handle down. The artificially cooled air hit her warm skin with a frigid blast. She hurried to adjust the thermostat and threw her bag on a table, then moved behind the built-in bar.

“All right. I suppose I do owe you a drink. And I do want some answers. What’s your pleasure?”

His mouth curved in a wicked smile. “If I said ‘you’, would I be overstepping my bounds?”


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UNTIL THE DAWN by Desiree Holt and Cerise DeLand

UNTIL THE DAWN, Book One in Desiree Holt and Cerise DeLand's brand new Nemesis Series.

Nemesis is a six-book series Desiree Holt is writing together with Cerise DeLand. Nemesis is a security agency, owned by five women. It's named after Nemesis, the goddess of retribution.

Madison Sommers is sure she has the world in her hands - a great job working for the Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives, a beautiful townhouse in Georgetown, her ambassador father finally at home rather than at the other end of the world. And in Dan Foreman, a lover she adores. The sex is beyond anything she could have imagined, for Dan knows how to use every part of his body, including his talented hands and mouth, to give her screaming orgasms. She wonders if life could possibly get any better.

Then Dan disappears and her world turns upside down - until he reappears in the dark to addle her brain with the hottest sex she's ever known and a secret that could bring down the country.

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By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.

An Excerpt From: UNTIL THE DAWN

Copyright © DESIREE HOLT & CERISE DELAND, 2010

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One



Dangerously gorgeous guys were not on Madison Sommers’ list of acceptable men. Since the age of sixteen, she’d stayed away from any man who didn’t look like an accountant and have the libido of one. She stayed away for her sanity. For her career.

But one look at Daniel Foreman four weeks ago as he appeared in her office for an interview had Maddie eating her words. And later, as she saw his tempting self day after day, eating her heart out, too.

Not a smart move, Maddie, girl, to crave this luscious piece of man in your bed. In your cunt.

Still, admiring Dan’s tight ass, the come-to-daddy pecs, the black-as-thunder hair and those grass-green eyes made her turn away now to thread her fingers through her chignon, take another sip of her gin and tonic and swallow her desire for him.

“Good thing you faced me, Madison, sweetie,” crooned Josh Holbrook, their mutual boss’s press secretary as they stood at the bar of the North Capital Street Hyatt ballroom. “You were about to lose your Ice Queen nickname drooling over Danny Boy.”

Madison chuckled at her friend’s insight. “Can’t hide anything from you, can I?”

“Nor should you.” Josh lifted his martini in a toast. “That’s how you and I serve our country,” and he tipped his head toward the white-haired hulk who was the Speaker of the House, “and our god, over there.”

“So what do you think of Dan’s performance so far?” she asked the co-worker whose opinion she trusted above all others on the Speaker Paul Trask’s staff.

“He hasn’t been here that long but Dan the Man is stellar. Fast thinker. Knows more about the federal transportation regs than the boys over at 1600. Better yet, he charms the panties off every man, woman and beast he deigns to smile at. And the only girl he really wants—” Josh arched a blond brow at her, “is you.”

“Please,” she scoffed, but her traitorous pulse jumped at the very idea.

Josh snorted. “Do not tell me you haven’t noticed.”

She had. Oh, she had. The startling green eyes that slid down her body the first day she interviewed him for the job of policy analyst on homeland security issues. The height, tall as heaven, all six-four hovering over her when he appeared at her desk as if he were a shield protecting her from hell. The mouth, generous and oh so kiss-me-baby sweet. The voice like gravel that scraped her raw with wild desire to strip and have him then and there. Anywhere. On her desk, on the floor. All be damned, Dan Foreman made her want to chuck every rule she’d ever made about whom to date and whom to fuck.

“What do you two think?” that booming voice came from behind her. “Can we blow this party now?”

Maddie turned, her body spinning against flesh that was a wall of stone. Dan Foreman was hard, massive and warm. Her hand reached out to steady herself from pressing against him. But Dan snatched up her fingers to hold her palm to his chest and what do you know, her pussy wept in want of him. “Ohh, I think we’ve done our duty for tonight.” She gazed up at him, continuing to cream so much her thong got soaked with need. Her mouth opened at the half-lidded beauty of Dan’s manly face. “We can leave.”

“Good. I think we need dinner,” Dan said, his voice a rough velvet seduction, his eyes drifting from her swept-up hair to her lips and the red silk cocktail dress. His invitation was clearly for her alone.

Her nipples peaked. Her pussy pounded. She bit her lower lip. “I don’t—”

“Eat?” Dan asked, his dark brows rising in shock. “Of course, you do. And I love to eat. Need to. Often. I am a big man. And you are hungry.”

“Oh, yes.” She gulped. What the hell were they talking about here? “I’m tired.”

“All the more reason to eat.” He pressed her fingers against his heart that pounded like a gong against her flesh. “Come with me.”

An invitation she should refuse.

“Okay, you two.” Josh plunked his glass on the bar. “Go. Me? Do not feel remorse for me. I am going home. Gotta get packing for my vacation next week.”

Dan didn’t glance at Josh.

Neither did she.

But as Josh bade his goodbyes, Maddie couldn’t seem to move. Captive of Dan’s charisma, captive of her own weak need to see if he was all she fantasized he was, Maddie gave in and grabbed up her evening bag. “Shall we go downstairs in the restaurant? The fish there is so fresh.”

“No.” Dan took her elbow in a grip that brooked no debate as he led her toward the double doors to the hallway.

“All right, no fish.” She waved goodbye to Speaker Trask and a few guests as she fought to keep up with Dan’s big strides. She racked her brain for places they could go that had plenty of light, bad acoustics and no banquettes where she would be tempted to sit next to him and feel every bulging muscle in his body. “Steak?”

“My pick,” he asserted, his jaw tight and his eyes straight ahead.

“Okay.” She began to stop in front of the elevator, but he hurried her toward the stairs. “Where are we going? The elevator will come in a minute.”

“Yeah.” Dan thrust a shoulder into the stairwell door, pulled her through and pressed her to the wall. “But so will I.” He cupped her chin, her head against the cold cinderblock as he flowed so close to her, she wondered if his breath were hers. “Watching you laugh with Josh made me nuts. I decided I cannot do this any longer.”

“What?” she whispered, her eyes searching the torrid way his examined her mouth.

“Wait for you to decide when you’re going to taste me.” His arms enveloped her. His body absorbed her. His lips took hers. Once, fast and hard.

She tore her mouth from his. “Oh, god, I shouldn’t.” Her eyes closed, her head lolled against the wall, but her arms betrayed her as they crushed him impossibly closer, the solid strength of him a wealth she’d never felt before. “I don’t do staff.”

“Look at me,” he demanded, his fingers lifting her jaw so that she stared right into those mesmerizing green eyes. “Christ, you are one beauty. The Ice Queen with a reputation for never doing anyone.” His forefinger traced her lower lip and then inserted it into her mouth where she sucked him with a slow delight. He groaned and with a hand to her ass, pushed her mound up against the hard proof he wanted her. “I am not anyone. You know it. I do. So tell me what we both know is true.”

She met his dare with her own madness and on a voice clear with the ring of undeniable fact, she whispered, “I want to fuck you.”

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