Genre: Romantic Suspense
She wished for death. A killer showed up at her door.
Life left me when my family died. I thought I wanted to die, too, until death comes knocking on my door.
Only, instead of killing me, he breathes new life into me. For the first time in my existence, I'm scared. Because when that life is taken from me, I'll have nothing left.
I have one rule: leave no traces behind.
She compromised my identity and needs to be eliminated. So simple, right? Not even close.
When she welcomes death with open arms, I can't pull the trigger.
Breaking my one rule would not only put my life in danger, but it would completely destroy hers.
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The moment my fingers connect with his shoulder, a large hand clasps around my wrist, and my whole body is yanked forward.
I yelp, hands reaching out to grab onto something for balance. I end up gripping something warm.
My lids slowly flutter open to be greeted by the most heated eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. And I’m straddling his lap, legs on each side of his hard thighs and both hands on his bare shoulders. My robe is tangled and my nightie bunches up to the middle of my thighs.
My pulse spikes at the proximity and how tiny I feel compared to his size. I bite the inside of my cheek. I’ve never been this close to a man before.
Like a deer caught in the headlights, I just stare at the icy blue eyes that should’ve never gotten into my life. Or my house. Or anywhere near me.
Instead of the death they promised, something entirely different is shining in them. A sinister promise. A dark journey. Instead of the safe numbness I’m supposed to feel, my heartbeat thunders in my ears, causing a shiver to ghost up my spine.
For the first time in forever, numbness isn’t taking over everything. Something is scratching at its surface. Something wild and unknown and... exciting.
I can’t even remember the last time I’ve been excited. What does ‘excited’ even mean?
I’m guessing it has to do with the tingles crawling up my limbs.
“Breaking your own rule, aren’t you?” He draws in that mesmerising British accent. His head tilts to the side until his nose gets impossibly close to the throbbing pulse in my neck. He breathes me in for a few seconds until I’m darn sure my heart will leap out of my throat.
“Huh?” I manage after a few seconds because apparently, I’m reduced to a mute.
“You said to never go to your floor, so what are you doing on mine?”
That’s a good question. What did I come here for, anyway?
There was something pressing, then he was having a seizure, then he touched me, and then... nothing. And everything. All at once.
His fingers glide over my collarbone, light, sensual, barely touching. I suppress a gasp as a full body shudder takes over me.
The combination of his leather scent, his hard chest against my achingly heavy breasts, and his thick arms surrounding me is already too much. Add his touch, and my skin resurrects under his fingertips.
The urge to surrender to this foreign sensation is so strong, I can’t access any thoughts past it.
It’s like I awaited this moment for a lifetime. Like I waited for him to ignite whatever lurked inside me.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Whatever is happening in my body isn’t supposed to happen. Especially with a fugitive I have zero idea about.
About the Author
Rina Kent is a lover of suspenseful plots and edgy characters. She has always been obsessed with romance. Storytelling is in her blood. Plotting is her addiction. Flawed and gripping characters are her drug. She makes it her mission to give them all types of trouble before granting them happy endings. When not scheming her characters' fate, Rina manages a hectic schedule divided between studying and living with the most supportive husband and a not-very-supportive cat.
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