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Embrace the fire…
For months Harvard anthropologist Morgan Gregory has been searching for a holy relic, a medallion that will allow him to translate a mysterious ancient text. But what the enigmatic professor finds in the little antiquity shop in South Boston is equally compelling—former lover Rachel Alexander and a rare painting.
Rachel Alexander has been popping in and out of Morgan’s life for years. Drawn to one another’s magic, consumed by mutual lust and desire, their encounters have always been sizzling. Add in a secret that will tip the balance of power between them and a wanton siren willing to seduce them both to get what she wants, and the passion becomes dangerously explosive.
Together, Morgan and Rachel follow a scavenger hunt laid out in ancient rituals and artifacts. One secret seems only to hide another, and another, until soon neither are sure of the truth or themselves. Can the couple put aside the past in time to fight for the future? Only if they can admit their burning need and control the fires within, fires that can comfort or consume them. Customer Ratings: OVERALL ENJOYMENT Not rated SENSUALITY Not rated Based on 0 reviews Editorial Reviews:
From Jamie Craig, author of Craving Kismet
"A captivating web of a romance, seducing the mind as well as the senses."
Excerpt:
Reaching between them, Morgan found her center with unerring accuracy. Always so wet for him. Two fingers slid inside with no trouble, Rachel automatically arching up in to the touch. He never took his eyes from hers as he slowly worked her. “Remind me again why I don’t toss you out on your ear?”
“Because I’d come right back,” she pointed out, a bit breathless. Her slender fingers wrapped around his wrist, stilling his motions. “Want you. Now.”
Even when Morgan thought Rachel was at his mercy, the opposite turned out to be true. He only had control because she let him think he did. And he didn’t mind it. Rachel was more consuming than any drug and ten times as addictive. Morgan didn’t get rid of her because he couldn’t. She made him forget. She made him shine. And she had power that rivaled his own. A power that drew him, a power that challenged him, a power that mixed with his own, creating something entirely—
“You fall asleep on me after all?” Rachel interrupted his thoughts.
“Would serve you right.” He removed his fingers and positioned his cock at her entrance. He slid inside her slick, welcoming pussy as if it were the only place he belonged.
“Oh, god, Morgan,” she sighed, such a satisfied sound.
He couldn’t respond. The initial contact was always too overwhelming. Tight in spite of the relative ease he sheathed himself, hot, and so fucking right. So right it frightened him at times. And when he began to move, he felt her power. He might not be able to feel his own, but he could feel hers. He never knew how much he missed Rachel’s magic until he felt it again, pulling him in, drowning him.
Morgan awoke with a start, momentarily disoriented by the plush surroundings. Well, plush compared to the old London flat he’d had back when he and Rachel—
She was sitting at the table, coffee in hand, book open before her. But she wasn’t reading.
“You know I hate it when you watch me sleep.”
She smiled innocently. “All the more reason for me to do it, isn’t it, lover?”
“Predictable,” Morgan grumbled as he started to get his bearings. And realized that he had a slight problem. A problem he knew wasn’t going to go away anytime soon without assistance. And with Rachel sitting across the room from him, he wouldn’t be getting up to take care of said problem himself anytime soon.
“You still talk in your sleep,” she commented, sipping her coffee, eyes dipping down to the sheet in his lap.
Fuck. “Well, I wouldn’t really know, would I? What with being asleep and all.”
“It’s quite entertaining. You’re missing out.”
“I’m certain it is,” he replied, wracking his brain to come up with a way to slip out of the bed without her noticing anything amiss. Though she probably already knew he had a raging hard-on. Fucking useless dreams. He hadn’t had one like that in… Christ, he couldn’t remember the last time. But of course he’d have one now. Perfect. “Do you have to be here?”
“As I don’t have my own room to go to, it would appear that I do.”
“Well, could you go somewhere else so I can shower?”
“Modest after all these years?” Rachel tsked. “Oh, Morgan, you really are in a sorry state.”
“Rachel, please.” As if begging would work.
“Oh, no. You’re making too big of a deal out of it for me to leave. Got something you don’t want me to see, I suspect,” she said knowingly, her voice dipping low as her eyes settled again at his lap. “I could help you with that, you know.”
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