Book 3 in the Storm For All Seasons series.
Control is everything to Logan Storm. Control over the family business, the Rising Storm Hotel in New Orleans, control over his emotions, and control over the magic within him.
Sophie Breaux is the granddaughter of a voodoo princess and welcomes the supernatural powers that live within her. She's been having visions about hot and sexy Logan Storm. Visions of destiny and of danger. When she tries to warn him, Logan thinks she's a con artist and wants no part of the raven-haired goddess.
The one thing Logan can't control is Sophie's fiery passion. She melts his walls of ice with her sultry heat, threatening everything that is orderly in his life. His control begins to slip away with every touch, every inflamed kiss, and he's powerless to stop his feelings.
Sophie knows that in order to save Logan she must melt his cold heart with scorching love. And when a woman is determined to get her man, nothing will stop her.
Note: The second book in the A Storm for All Seasons series is "Devlin Dynasty 2: Fall Fury". That story brings together characters from both series.
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November 13, 2009
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Excerpt from Winter Ice by Jaci Burton
Suddenly the colorful skirt Logan had spotted at the restaurant breezed through the hanging beads separating the main shop from another room. The skirt was attached to the object of his search.
"Sophie," he managed, finally able to find his voice long enough to utter her name.
She smiled and her violet eyes seemed to dance with light. "Logan."
He picked up her scent, similar to the sweet patchouli fragrance of the shop. Only muskier, more sensual, like the woman wearing it. When she moved, bells jangled around her wrists and feet.
At a loss for words, he could only stare at her, oblivious to the other man and woman in the shop.
"We need to talk," she said, slipping her arm through his and leading him into the other room. He turned to offer an apology to the others for being so rude and not speaking, but what was he going to say? Sorry, I'm in a trance right now?
She sat him down at a square wood table centering what looked like a sultan's palace. Soft pillows in jeweled colors brightened a small beige couch against the wall. Tapestries of faeries and dragons decorated the walls, and the only light came from the fifty or so candles scattered throughout the room.
Hell, it was sexy in here. Exotic, sensuous and inviting. Despite not knowing what compelled him to come, he relaxed. Possibly because of the beautiful woman who graced him with a warm smile, though his thoughts about her were anything but relaxing.
"I'm so glad you came. I knew you would."
He started to object, but then she reached for his hands, sliding her palms over his fingers. He jerked as a shot of pure electricity soared through his body, hardening him in an instant.
Damn! What the hell was that?
She massaged his fingers lightly, and he began to breathe heavily.
"I need to tell your future," she said, her voice soft and raspy. The kind of voice a man wanted whispering in his ear.
"You don't know my future," he objected, starting to feel ridiculous for even being in this place.
"Oh, but you're wrong. While I don't know it all, I do know some things. That's why I wanted to see you again. I have something to tell you. Something urgent."
This should be good. "Okay, go ahead."
The smile left her face. "Your family is in danger."
She nodded. "Yes. Grave danger. Unfortunately, I don't know the time or place it will occur, but something bad will happen very soon."
Could she be more vague? He almost laughed. "That's not telling me much, cher. Easy to see how you could successfully predict the future with information like that."
"I knew you wouldn't believe me. You'll just have to trust me. You must be on your guard because you are the catalyst. Somehow this revolves around you."
"Okay, I have a question."
"Do people actually pay you money for this crap?"
He expected her to be angry. Instead, she nodded and smiled. "Actually, they do. Because I'm always right."
He pulled his hands away and crossed his arms. "What do you tell them? That someday they're going to die? That the stock market will go up one day and down the next? That the local candidate running for office has a 50/50 chance of being elected over his opponent?"
This whole fortune-telling thing was ludicrous, and he wasn't going to stay here a minute longer. He stood and headed toward the exit.
She rose and approached, stopping inches away from him. Tilting her neck back to meet his gaze, she said, "Please trust me on this. I've had visions about you...very strong ones. You and I are fated to--"
"Hang on a second. Fated? Like destined?"
"Holy shit!" He couldn't believe it. How could she do this to him? Dear God, how old did she think he was, anyway? "My mother put you up to this, didn't she? First the thing in the alley, and now this."
"Your mother? I don't know your mother."
He wasn't buying her confused frown. "Sure you do. Petite woman, busybody. I'll bet she convinced you that you and I shared some kind of fate, right?"
Sophie shook her head. "No, Logan. I've never met your mother. Sometimes you have to take things on pure faith."
He laughed. "Faith? In you? I have no more faith in you than the phony fortune teller at a carnival midway, honey. Now if you'll excuse me, there's someplace I need to be."
Like at the business meeting he'd left abruptly. How the hell was he going to explain leaving like that?
Maybe he needed a vacation. The stress was getting to him.
He moved to leave, but she reached out and touched his arm. He looked at her, refusing to believe the vulnerability in her beseeching gaze. "Please, Logan, you don't know how important this is. You must be on your guard."
Tired of this ridiculous game, he grabbed her arms and hauled her against his chest, ignoring the feel of her full breasts pressing against him. "The only person I need to be on my guard against is you." He pulled his wallet out of his coat and slammed it on the table. "People like you are driven by this," he said, pointing to the leather billfold stuffed with greenbacks.
"I don't want your money, Logan," she whispered.
"Bullshit. That's the only thing people like you want. Money. Greed and opportunity are your companions. I don't know what kind of game you and my mother have concocted, but I'm not going to play. Understand?"
She shook her head again, her eyes wide pools of purple, darkening with desire. Her body flamed to life like an inferno, burning his hands with her heat. He quickly dropped his arms to his sides, still feeling the scorching fire she emanated.
"I know why you're doing this," she said. "You're afraid of the feelings I bring out in you."
He arched a brow, unable to believe her arrogant conceit. "I don't feel a damn thing for you."
"You're lying. To me and to yourself. I can feel what you feel, Logan. I know, because I have the same need. We have to be one. It's fated."
Boiling anger raged within him. He hated being manipulated. "No, sweetheart. We don't have to be anything. We're not going to be anything. "
"I won't give up on you, Logan. You need me. And I need you."
When her lips parted and her tongue flicked out to lick her bottom lip, he lost it. Well and completely lost it. Fury mixed with desire and he could no longer separate the stronger emotion. All he knew was that he had to touch her.
He absorbed her gasp when his mouth descended over hers