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Father Creighton and Smith Sinclair.
Two dangerous men inexplicably drawn to me.
One bound by a holy vow, the other by duty and honor.
One emphatically covets my soul.
The other, despite his regrets, desires my heart.
Each demands I surrender my body to his control.
A priest and a soldier.
A demon and a knight.
An eternity in darkness, or a lifetime of love and light.
In the end, I have only seconds to decide.
ENJOY THIS STEAMY EXCERPT:
Sinclair takes hold of a small section of my hair, twirling it around a finger. When he releases it, the soft curl bounces off my cheek. “I love redheads,” he murmurs in a low seductive voice. “Is it true their pain threshold is higher?” His nimble fingers find my hair again, combing roughly through the strands. Just before he reaches the ends, he furls his hand and tugs firmly. “Is it, Kate?” My mouth falls open, but I can’t form words. “Do you enjoy having your hair pulled?”
I hate having my hair pulled. At least that’s what I always thought. But the tugging called my body to attention, put every nerve on high alert. And yes, I did enjoy it—all of it. But I especially enjoyed the way my scalp and pussy tingled in sync, as though they were engaging in an erotic dance for my pleasure alone. I’m still enjoying it. Although I have no intention of telling him that. I shake my head in response.
His eyes are dark slits. “Liar,” he murmurs, a breath away from my temple.
The warm sensation caresses my skin. It’s a stark contrast to the cruel word, liar. Is that what it would be like with him? Cruelty swathed in a tender caress? Would I enjoy that, too? Oh, God.
My throat is parched. My brain thick with fog. I’m aroused. And confused. With every circuit misfiring.
“How badly do you want those answers?” He hooks a thumb under my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “What are you willing to do to get them?”
His last question jolts me out of my he-is-hot-as-sin and I want to melt in the fires of hell trance. “You’re kidding?” I pant softly.