Come back to me …
Luke remembers a few things. Just not his last name, or anyone he ever knew. He knows that he’s a supersoldier, genetically enhanced and loaded up with brain implants. He just escaped from a year-long hell of captivity, and to protect his family and friends from his tormentors, he blocked his memories. Now he needs those memories back, fast … or he and those he loves will die agonizing deaths.
Luke’s dangerous plan to reconnect with his past—and stay alive in the present—has drawn his enemies’ attention to the tough and sexy Dani LaSalle. He’s duty bound to protect the luscious beauty from the evil pursuing them, but he can’t control the scorching desire she awakens in him.
Dani’s strict routine has been trashed by Luke’s explosive arrival. This rock-hard slab of valiant, smoldering manhood appears out of nowhere, saves her life, spirits her away to his mountain lair and bewilders her with tales of sadistic researchers, enhanced assassins. Is this gorgeous, problematic sex god just plain crazy—or is she? But Luke can do things with his mind that are just as wild as what he can do with that body … and she can’t say no.
And there’s no time to wonder. As their passion burns hotter, Obsidian moves closer … and Luke and Dani must place their lives and their hearts on the line just to survive …
He’d gotten inside just in time. The hostiles had showed up moments afterwards. He’d seen four thermal heat signatures slinking around out there. Systematic, professional, moving smoothly into position in the overgrown foliage. No unmod would have seen or heard them. Covering every entrance. Probably listening with modified ears, just like him.
He just hoped they weren’t scanning for thermals. He couldn’t afford to lose the advantage of surprise, outnumbered as he was.
Now if he could just quickly, forcefully convince Dani to get down on the other side of the dryer while he went out to deal with them …
But she wouldn’t. It wasn’t her nature. He needed to calm her down first. Explain that she had to do exactly what he said, this instant, if she wanted to keep breathing.
But he couldn’t get the words out. At least not without scaring her so badly that she started screaming again.
Words wouldn’t come. All those long months of keeping silent, refusing to speak to Mark, then Braxton. Resisting interrogation, beating and torture.
He wanted to howl his frustration, but that wouldn’t help. Her heart was galloping. Stripes of yellow light from the kitchen sliced through the slats in the door and across her eyes. They were wide and brilliant, glittering with angry tears.
“Hold still,” he whispered.
Her body squirmed against his, chest to thigh. She was tall and strong. Her head came all the way up to his nose. Her lush tits pressed against his body armor. The sensation made him want to ditch the damn vest. Feel all those curves for real.
Some other time. He had a job to do. And she absolutely did not deserve the shitstorm that was blowing her way.
“Dani,” he whispered. “Don’t scream.”
He meant it as an order, but it came out rough, hoarse. Pleading.
Slowly, he lifted his hand. Her mouth was slightly open. She was panting. The pink, tender fullness of her lips made him ache down low.
A tear glittered as it flashed down over her cheek. The sight of it hurt him inside.
“Don’t cry,” he begged, in a raw whisper. But he touched his fingertip to the wet tear-track that gleamed on her smooth, beautiful cheek. He wanted to taste it.
She inhaled. Luke sensed the ear-splitting scream that was forming in her mind, and did the only thing he could think of to head it off.
He kissed her.
Shannon McKenna is the NYT bestselling author of seventeen action packed, turbocharged romantic thrillers, among which are the stories of the wildly popular McCloud series and the brand new romantic suspense series, The Obsidian Files. She loves tough and heroic alpha males, heroines with the brains and guts to match them, villains who challenge them to their utmost, adventure, scorching sensuality, and most of all, the redemptive power of true love. Since she was small she has loved abandoning herself to the magic of a good book, and her fond childhood fantasy was that writing would be just like that, but with the added benefit of being able to take credit for the story at the end. Alas, the alchemy of writing turned out to be messier than she’d ever dreamed. But what the hell, she loves it anyway, and hopes that readers enjoy the results of her alchemical experiments. She loves to hear from her readers.