Blurb:
They say New York City is the Devil’s Playground. They’re wrong. This city belongs to me. And so does Aislinn Granville.
She is a pampered politician’s daughter. A decorative ornament, raised to smile and nod and do what she’s told.
Except… she doesn’t. Not with me. Ever.
In this city full of thugs and thieves, I’ve kept Aislinn safe. From my enemies. From me.
Until now.
She is a pampered politician’s daughter. A decorative ornament, raised to smile and nod and do what she’s told.
Except… she doesn’t. Not with me. Ever.
In this city full of thugs and thieves, I’ve kept Aislinn safe. From my enemies. From me.
Until now.
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The attraction between Aislinn and Damon is close to instant, although it takes them a little time to fully act on the attraction. And, she definitely has reasons to feel that she is not happy with his appearance in her life, and the way he treats her...but I liked that he shows compassion (although it takes a bit) toward her and makes it clear that his motivation for what he is doing is a little more self serving than you expect.
The cliffhanger was harsh and I am definitely wondering what is going to happen. Obviously, I expect the happily ever after, but I am looking forward to how the author gets the characters to their HEA.
I enjoyed this title, and I recommend it.
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Excerpt:
“Put me down.” I keep my cool, making the demand as stiffly as if I’m asking him to pass the salt.
But my show of composure crumbles as he angles his head to look at me. Barely an inch separates the tips of our noses. I stare, entranced by the fine scar that marks his left eyebrow. I want to kiss it.
“Or what?”
“Hmmm?”
One corner of his mouth tics up, his eyes flicking away from mine. “You look damn good in my arms.”
I follow his stare and am met by our reflection in the bathroom mirror. I blink, taking in the sight of my naked body held against King’s broad chest, the tanned, inked forearms I’d practically drooled over earlier now wrapped around my back and behind my knees.
I am naked. King is dressed.
There is something indecently erotic about our image. I look like the heroine of an old Harlequin novel—a down on her luck maid or secretary about to be ravished by her big, bad boss. A powerless woman soon to be stripped of her virtue.
I know what it’s like when a man overpowers a woman. When he uses force to take what’s not his. To hurt and abuse and terrorize.
And I know that this isn’t that.
It may not look like it, but I have the power in this situation. Damon King came to me. First at my apartment and now in his. He broke down two doors tonight.
I may be naked, but the only reason he’s touching me is because he knows I want him to.
Emboldened, I look away from our reflection and directly into King’s eyes again. Leaning in, I brush the tip of my nose against his. “Kiss me.”
I’ve barely pushed the words out when his lips are on mine. The taste of him is an explosion inside my mouth. Smooth and potent, but with a hint of mint. As if he swilled some of that Balvenie from his bar and then sucked on a peppermint candy.
He kisses like a conqueror. Stealing my breath along with the last of my reservations.
He kisses like a king. Staking his claim, demanding his due.
But my show of composure crumbles as he angles his head to look at me. Barely an inch separates the tips of our noses. I stare, entranced by the fine scar that marks his left eyebrow. I want to kiss it.
“Or what?”
“Hmmm?”
One corner of his mouth tics up, his eyes flicking away from mine. “You look damn good in my arms.”
I follow his stare and am met by our reflection in the bathroom mirror. I blink, taking in the sight of my naked body held against King’s broad chest, the tanned, inked forearms I’d practically drooled over earlier now wrapped around my back and behind my knees.
I am naked. King is dressed.
There is something indecently erotic about our image. I look like the heroine of an old Harlequin novel—a down on her luck maid or secretary about to be ravished by her big, bad boss. A powerless woman soon to be stripped of her virtue.
I know what it’s like when a man overpowers a woman. When he uses force to take what’s not his. To hurt and abuse and terrorize.
And I know that this isn’t that.
It may not look like it, but I have the power in this situation. Damon King came to me. First at my apartment and now in his. He broke down two doors tonight.
I may be naked, but the only reason he’s touching me is because he knows I want him to.
Emboldened, I look away from our reflection and directly into King’s eyes again. Leaning in, I brush the tip of my nose against his. “Kiss me.”
I’ve barely pushed the words out when his lips are on mine. The taste of him is an explosion inside my mouth. Smooth and potent, but with a hint of mint. As if he swilled some of that Balvenie from his bar and then sucked on a peppermint candy.
He kisses like a conqueror. Stealing my breath along with the last of my reservations.
He kisses like a king. Staking his claim, demanding his due.
About the Author:
Tara Leigh is a multi-published author of steamy contemporary romance. A former banker on Wall Street, she graduated from Washington University and holds an MBA from Columbia Business School, but she much prefers spending her days with fictional boyfriends than analyzing financial spreadsheets. Tara currently lives in Fairfield County, Connecticut with her husband, children, and fur-baby, Pixie. She is represented by Jessica Alvarez, of Bookends Literary Agency.
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