Rowdy Pierce-warrior. Sara Stewart-artist. Macho mercenary rescues posh jewelry designer. Their lives collide in an spectacular rescue and escape across the Egyptian desert. Sara falls for her sexy, body-to-die-for hero and makes the first move.
Rowdy, fascinated by the luscious, sweet-bodied, free-spirited woman he saved, takes what Sara offers. He doesn’t expect to lose his heart.
Will their lust turn to something deeper back in the real world?
Rowdy has rescued Sara and is now putting her on the helo that will fly her to safety
Rowdy’s heart felt ripped in two. There were a hundred things he wanted to say to her, to hear from her, but they’d run out of time. He allowed himself another final, private look at her beautiful face and devastating blue eyes before he kissed her for the last time, touched her eyelids, the tip of her nose, the crest of her cheek bones, and finally her lips. How could he let her go?
In his business, there was always another job to do. Time to put her on the helo and move on. He pulled her through the tent opening and led her toward the military helicopter, just landed but poised and ready for takeoff at a moment’s notice.
No time left. The ache, snaking and swelling through his body, wasn’t just from his unrequited lust. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. He clasped his arm protectively around her waist as they ran straight into the noise and dust kicked up by the spinning rotors. Sweeping her into his arms, he tucked her head against his chest to shield her eyes and almost fell to his knees with the powerful hunger for the sweet, luscious, quivering woman clinging tightly to his neck, breathing hotly against his skin.
No time left. He thrust her into the yawning opening, and as soon as her knees landed on the metal flooring, she scrabbled like a baby further inside. A crewman grabbed her under the arms, pushed her into a seat, and buckled a shoulder harness and seatbelt around her. She was handed a helmet, and before putting it on, with tears rolling down her cheeks, she met his gaze through the wide door of the helo. No, he mouthed, shook his head. Don’t cry. He should be happy this was over and that a large amount of money would be deposited into his bank account. She was grateful, and he’d become too involved. But a healthy jolt of lust connected them when they touched. Hell, just looking at her turned his balls molten. He was a mercenary, and she was an artist from Chicago. They were worlds apart. Christ, man. You’re an idiot.
The helo rose, hovered. He saw bewilderment, then panic in her eyes. Her mouth moved. He heard her voice in his head. “Thank you, Peter Pierce.”
Acting more cocky than he felt, he tapped his forehead in a mock salute, and mouthed back, “You’re welcome, Sara Stewart.” He watched until the helo was out of sight, a long time in the clear, bright sky. Thoughts of home blindsided him. He’d hated the small Kansas town he grew up in and couldn’t wait to leave, couldn’t wait to get out in the world and do something important. Now he just felt abandoned, as alone as he’d felt for years. His father died when he was in college, and his mother lived in a nursing home now. He wondered if he’d ever have a chance at a normal life. As normal as it could be for a guy who knew ten different ways to kill a man, and had used them all.
Check out my website!!