Nothing could keep Nicolo Dante from uncovering the truth about Kiley O'Dell. He knew she had to be a liar, but the moment he set eyes on the beauty, his soul was scorched by the once-in-a-lifetime heat of The Dante Inferno. Then a sudden accident stole her memory, and he seized the chance to learn all her deepest secrets-- by pretending to be her husband. But the longer he kept up the dangerous masquerade, the clearer it became that whoever this woman was--whatever she was--he couldn't rest until he made her truly his own....
There are no customer reviews available at this time. Would you like to write a review?
July 07, 2008
Number of Print Pages*
Adobe DRM EPUB
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from Dante's Wedding Deception by Day Leclaire
Kiley O'Dell wasn't at all what Nicol� expected.
But then, neither did he expect the tidal wave of desire that slammed through him, rendering him deaf and blind to everything but the woman standing in the doorway of her suite at Le Premier. He saw her mouth move, but the sound refused to penetrate the roaring that filled his ears, a roaring that demanded he take this woman and make her his. To put his mark on her in every way possible. To possess her and bind her to him until neither of them could escape.
No. He dropped his head and fought the sensation, fought for all he was worth. He flat-out refused to accept this feeling, flinching from the very real possibility that it might signify the start of The Inferno.
No. Way. In. Hell.
This woman spelled trouble from the top of her dainty red head to the tips of her tiny red-coated toenails. And he refused to allow trouble into his life, his bed, or his heart. No matter what it took, he'd put an end to this sensation. It couldn't possibly be that difficult. It only required a single, simple solution. All he had to do was figure out what that solution was and The Inferno would pass him by.
Lifting his head, he took a second to study Kiley O'Dell, using every scrap of creative skill at his disposal to search for a way out of his latest predicament. But nothing came to him and he simply stood and stared at her.
Her name suited her. She stood no taller than a minute, with a taut, lithe figure that packed just enough curves in just the right places to tempt a man to explore every inch of that creamy white skin. She wore her hair long and it fell in heavy strawberry-blond curls to the middle of her back. She also possessed the most stunning pair of pale green eyes he'd ever seen, eyes that dominated her triangular-shaped face.
"Mr. Dante?" she asked, clearly repeating herself. Her cultured voice contained a low, musical quality that fell easily on the ears. "Is there something wrong?"
He shoved the single word from between clenched teeth. Did she have any idea how hard he struggled to act with a modicum of propriety while instinct clawed at him, urging him to snatch her up in his arms and carry her off to the nearest bedroom?
Possibly, since a hint of wariness crept into her regard and a pulse kicked to life in the hollow of her throat, betraying her instinctive response to him. A response not all that unlike his own, if he didn't miss his guess. A streak of color highlighted her arching cheekbones and he could almost smell the whiff of desire that perfumed the air between them. Oh, yeah, this wasn't good.
She recovered far swifter than he. "I'm Kiley O'Dell. Thank you for taking the time to see me."
Everything about her appeared quick and decisive, from the sharp once-over she gave him to the way her gaze leapt from him, to the hallway, and then over her shoulder to the spacious hotel room. He couldn't help but wonder if that last glance was a final check to make sure she'd properly set the scene for their encounter.
"Come on in," she said, stepping to one side.
She didn't bother offering her hand, which suited him just fine. Considering the overwhelming hunger her appearance aroused it would be downright foolhardy to touch this woman. Not with The Inferno currently on the rampage, cutting a swathe of destruction through the Dante males.
Not that he believed in The Inferno. Hell, no. He hadn't when Primo first told the tale. Nor when Sev and Marco tried to convince him they'd both experienced it the first time they'd touched their future wives. And he damn sure didn't intend to start believing in The Inferno now. Not even with this desperate need filling every empty space inside him with a want so huge he could barely contain it all.
"Would you like something to drink?" Kiley tossed the question over her shoulder while she crossed the plush carpet. She moved with a hip-swinging stride that drew his gaze to her pert, rounded backside lovingly outlined by a pair of trim black slacks. He caught back a groan. Was it deliberate...or another aspect of the stage she'd set for their meeting? "I have sodas," she continued. "Or something stronger if you feel the need."
Whiskey. He'd kill for a double shot of single-malt. "I'm fine, thanks."
"Do you want to talk first or get straight down to business?"
"What's there to talk about?"
That had her turning around. A crooked smile tilted her mouth, giving her an almost gamine appearance. "We could take a stab at making this a friendly get-together. You know, exchange the usual pleasantries people do when they first meet."
Okay, he'd play along. "Like?"
"Like... Tell me what you do at Dantes, Nicol�."
"I solve problems."
Laughter gleamed in those odd green eyes, turning them spring-leaf bright. "And I'm your current problem?"
"I don't know." He lifted an eyebrow. "Are you?"
She shrugged. "Time will tell."