Timeless Kisses by Monica Burns
Timeless Kisses
Excerpts by
Sabrina York
Julie Johnstone
Bronwen Evans
Tammy Andresen
Monica Burns
Gina Conkle
Shana Galen
Vanessa Kelly
Amanda Mariel
and Meara Platt
The excerpts enclosed are part of a larger work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cover Design: Tammy Andresen
Kathi B. Scearce DBA Monica Burns – Maroli SP Imprints
P.O. Box 75072
North Chesterfield, VA 23236
Copyright © 2016 — Susana and the Scot by Sabrina York
Copyright © 2016 — My Fair Duchess by Julie Johnstone
Copyright © 2016 — A Whisper of Desire by Bronwen Evans
Copyright © 2016 — Midnight Magic by Tammy Andresen
Copyright © 2016 — Kismet by Monica Burns
Copyright © 2016 — To Find a Viking Treasure by Gina Conkle
Copyright © 2016 — Earls Just Want to Have Fun by Shana Galen
Copyright © 2016 — How to Marry a Royal Highlander by Vanessa Kelly
Copyright © 2016 — Scandalous Intentions by Amanda Mariel
Copyright © 2016 — My Fair Lily by Meara Platt
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author(s).
A SCANDALOUS TEMPTATION
Andrew Lochlannach is famous for his conquests, on and off the battlefield. When a fellow warrior challenges him to a kissing contest, he wastes no time in planting his lips on ninety-nine lovely lasses-an impressive feat of seduction that gets him banished to the hinterlands. Still, Andrew has no regrets about his exploits-especially his embrace with the most beguiling woman he's ever met...
AN UNDENIABLE PASSION
With flaming red hair and a temper to match, Susana is not some innocent farm girl who gives herself over easily to a man, even one as ruggedly handsome as Andrew. The wicked Scot may have won a kiss from the headstrong beauty in a moment of mutual desire, but Susana refuses to be just another one of his conquests. Andrew must convince the fiery lass that even though he is not playing a game, losing her is not an option...
Susana and the Scot
by Sabrina York
The First Kiss
Susana’s eyes flared as Andrew advanced on her, like a skulking fox that had spotted a plump rabbit. She didn’t mean to retreat, but she had to. She’d seen that expression in his eyes before and she knew what it meant. Something within her howled: Run.
Perhaps it was the expression in his eyes, or the knowledge that she was playing with fire, or the sudden realization that she’d foolishly come here, to this deserted loft with the most dangerous man she’d ever met, but she couldn’t still the urge to whirl and pace to the far end of the room to peer out of the smudged window. She was aware he followed. She felt his presence like a fire in a forge.
Desperation prompted her to continue their conversation, to put some space between them, to raise a shield. “The room is perfectly habitable,” she proclaimed. “And once we have pallets brought in, it will serve you well.”
“Will it?”
His voice was low in her ear, a whisper almost. And far too close. She wanted to turn, to confront him, but she knew, if she did, they would be face to face, perhaps lip to lip and she could not allow that. She could never allow that.
The last time he’d kissed her, it had been her undoing.
A pity he didn’t remember.
“My men willna like being housed with the dogs.” Holy God. Was that his hand on her hip? His thumb tracing her waist? “Nae doubt they will all want to find…other beds to welcome them.”
Susana stilled as his words sank in. The threat was clear. And it was rather horrifying. A horde of randy warriors set loose on the innocent maidens of Dounreay? That his hand had slid over to toy with the small of her back, to tangle in the skeins of her hair, didn’t help.
Her pulse thudded and her knees went weak. She couldn’t have it. She couldn’t have this man touching her. She sucked in a breath and slipped to the side, out of his grasp. When she was far enough away for some measure of safety, she turned to face him, a reproachful look fixed on her face. “Are your men so lacking in discipline?” She hoped her frown, her reproving tone, would bring him to heel. She should have known better.
He grinned and stepped closer. His eyes glinted, as though needling her was an amusing sport. “They are verra disciplined…when their needs are met.”
She crossed her arms, as though that could protect her, and pretended to study the room. Pretended she wasn’t aware of his thrumming presence, his heat, his intent. “Well, I shall hold you responsible for any…improprieties.” She took a step toward the staircase, only a tiny one—surely not an attempt to escape.
He chuckled—chuckled, the bastard—making it clear he recognized her cowardice for what it was. And he paced her.
“They’re all good men. They all volunteered to come with me. Each and every one of them is dedicated to the cause of protecting Reay from the villains who have been plaguing you. However…”
The way he trailed off derailed her retreat. She stilled. Glared at him. “However, what?”
“However, they do have…needs. Surely you can find better lodgings.”
She blew out a breath. “In time.” In time.
In time, he would be gone, God willing.
He stepped toward her again, although nonchalantly, as though he were not chasing her across the room. It occurred to her they were engaged in something of a macabre dance. It set her nerves on edge. She hadn’t realized what a long room this was, or how far it was to the stairs.
“Doona leave it too long.” His smile was heinous. It made all kinds of shivers dance over her skin. “My men are…restless.” She had the chilling sense he was talking about himself.
“I shall…do my best.” Like hell. “And now, if you will excuse me, I have things to do.”
His brow quirked. She tried not to notice what a perfect brow it was. “Ah, but I thought you and I could…talk.”
“Talk?” She didn’t intend to squawk, but she could tell from his predatory stance, a conversation was not the primary urge on his mind. At least, not one with words.
He nodded. Though his features were patently earnest, the sincerity was patently affected. “About the defenses you have in place…so I can decide what needs improvement.”
Aggravation rippled. It displaced her concerns about being here, with him, all alone. Fury did that, she’d often found. Overrode common sense and led one into dangerous waters. Her hands curled into fists. She strode toward him until they were nearly nose to nose. “Nothing needs improvement,” she snapped. They didn’t need him. Or his men. Or his stupid ideas.
“Nonsense. Now that we’re here, we intend to make a statement to Stafford, or whatever miscreants are lurking out there thinking Dounreay is an easy target. But before I set my plans in motion—”
“Your plans?” He already had plans? Och! He was so exasperating.
She barely noticed that he stepped closer…until their chests brushed. He was hard and hot; the touch made her tingle. His voice, low and luring made her tingle as well. His gaze skated over her face, then stalled on her lips. “Let’s meet and discuss—”
Her pulse skittered. “I doona have
“Nae?” A whisper. And his caress over her shoulder, that was a whisper as well. Like a panicked fawn, Susana eased back again. And again. He matched her, step for step.
She swallowed heavily. “I… You have descended upon us with no warning—”
“My brother sent a letter.”
He was too close. Far too close. She swallowed heavily. “Twenty-five men that now need to be housed and fed. On top of that, I have many other duties that need attending.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Which duties?”
“Many duties.” She frowned and glanced toward the staircase. Ah, lord. It was so far… He was too warm. Too broad. Too alluring. Though she didn’t intend to, she took another step back and—
Oh hell. He’d backed her against the wall. That he couldn’t stand straight in the low-ceilinged room was a small consolation.
“Susana,” he said as he leaned closer. His breath was a tantalizing trail over her face.
An unholy thrill snaked through her. Surely that wasn’t anticipation? Hunger? Need?
She could not allow him to kiss her. She could not—
Her knees nearly melted at the touch of his lips. His warmth, his taste, his scent made her mind whirl. Thank God he had his hands on her waist and was holding her steady, or she might well have collapsed.
It occurred to her that she should push him away, fight him, but she couldn’t. Something, something deep within her resisted. Something deep within her needed him. Needed this.
And ah, it was glorious. As glorious as she remembered.
His lips were soft, gentle, questing as they tested hers and then, with a groan, he pulled her closer, melding their bodies together. He deepened the kiss, sealing his mouth over hers and dancing his tongue over the seam.
She opened to him. She couldn’t resist. He filled her senses with his presence, his heat. With tiny nibbles, sucks and laps, he consumed her, enflamed her. All sanity fled. All logic and resolution and anger flitted away as Andrew tasted her, tempted her.
His hands were not still. They roved over her body from her shoulders, down her arms to her waist. They tangled in her hair and stroked her cheek and chin.
Heat blossomed, skittered through her veins. Her body softened, melted, prepared for him.
She should not have responded the way she did. She should not have pressed against him, rubbed against the hard bulge on his belly. She should not have explored the hard flesh of his back, cupped his nape, raked his silken scalp. She should not have moaned.
Surely all these things would only encourage him.
He lifted his head and stared at her, an odd mixture of befuddlement and awe in his eyes. His tongue peeped out and dabbed at his lips, snagging her attention. Surely she didn’t lean toward him in a mute plea for more.
Was she truly so weak?
Aye. She was.
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About Sabrina
Her Royal Hotness, Sabrina York, is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of hot, humorous stories for smart and sexy readers. Her titles range from sweet & sexy to scorching romance. Visit her webpage at www.sabrinayork.com to check out her books, excerpts and contests. Get updates and alerts from Sabrina here: HotSheet Sign Up: https://eepurl.com/bj8tKb
WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING ABOUT SABRINA YORK’S UNTAMED HIGHLANDERS
Bold and steamy—Publisher’s Weekly
A stunning tale from beginning to end—Love, Life and Booklust
Top Pick—Night Owl Reviews
York turns her talent for sizzle to men in kilts—and the women who love them—in her newest sexy romp—RT Magazine
Untamed Highlanders Series
Hannah and the Highlander
Susana and the Scot
Lana and the Laird—Coming in May 2016
Want More Highlanders by Sabrina York?
Laird of her Heart--Highland Time Travel
Tarnished Honor--Waterloo Heroes Romance
After years of playing the rogue to hide a dark family secret, the Duke of Aversley feels tainted beyond redemption and cynical beyond repair. Never does he imagine hope will come in the form of a quirky, quick-witted lady determined to win the heart of another aristocrat.
Thanks to a painfully awkward past, Lady Amelia De Vere long ago relinquished the notion she was a flower that had yet to blossom. But when her family faces financial ruin and the man she has always loved is on the verge of marrying another, she’ll try anything to transform herself to capture her childhood love and save her family―including agreeing to participate in a bet between her brother and the notorious, dangerously handsome Duke Of Aversley.
Bound by the bet, Amelia and Aversley discover unexpected understanding and passion beyond their wildest dreams, if only they can let go of their pride, put trust in each other and chance losing their hearts.
This is book one in the Regency Romance series Once Upon a Rogue.
My Fair Duchess
by Julie Johnstone
The First Kiss
Amelia watched as Colin stalked Charles all the way to the door. Colin’s back was to her, and for a moment, she feared he might simply leave her standing there without saying a word. Very quietly, he shut the door and turned to her. His face had taken on the look of a marble effigy. He paused in front of her, a grim smile spreading across his lips. “Very well played, Amelia.”
She frowned at him. “What?”
“You will have an offer for your hand from him in no time. I could not have planned it better had I thought of it. Leaving the ballroom was a brilliant stroke. I suppose you knew he had been watching you and would follow.”
Her stomach twisted into a tight coil. Colin thought she had planned this to get Charles alone? To what? Tease him, make him jealous? Sadness filled her. Of course, he would think such a thing because he believed women were inherently wicked, and well, because she had inadvertently nourished that conviction by agreeing to be part of that stupid wager. “No, Colin, I―”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “There’s no use denying it. I saw how you were looking at him.”
“How was I looking at him?”
“With longing. And triumph.”
Good heavens, the man was jaded and completely wrong and would never believe her if she told him so. What to do? She sucked her lower lip between her teeth and raced through possible options, discarding them as quickly as she had thought of them. The only thing to do was to turn the tables on him.
She cared for him, and the only way she knew to possibly get through to him was to show him, beyond any doubt in his distrustful mind and wounded heart, that she was never going to hurt him. And that if he would let her, she could love him with all her heart if only he would give her his. Yet, to accomplish her goal she needed him to see that even if she had a hundred marriage offers from a hundred dukes just as lofty as he was or even more so, she would want him. Only him. Always him.
“Kiss me, Colin,” she demanded, making her first move in a plan that was sketchy at best.
“Kiss you? What for? Your prey has flown the coop.”
Her cheeks heated, but she forced herself to speak. “I need to practice in case Charles and I become betrothed. I wouldn’t want him to cry off because I didn’t entice him.”
“He wouldn’t dare,” Colin growled. “You need no practice.”
She purposely licked her lips, feeling foolish but pushing forward. His suddenly bulging jaw muscles made her want to cheer in victory. She was getting to him, even if only to his baser side. For now, that would have to do. War was often won with small maneuvers, and softening Colin’s heart certainly felt like combat. “You promised to transform me,” she continued, knowing that would get to him. The man was honorable, whether he liked it or not.
“One kiss,” he said in a stern tone.
“Yes. Just one.”
“I find you impossible to resist,” he muttered.
She bit her cheek to keep from grinning and forced herself to stay silent.
Grunting, he crooked his finger at her. “Come here.”
Suddenly, her legs trembled and her heart beat wildly. She judged the distance between the two of them. It was three steps at the most. Could she make it? She’d never experienced anything like the giddy anticipation racing through her that was leaving her this weak.
A devilish smile played at his lips. “Changed your mind, have you?
With that, she moved toward him on legs like jelly. His dark, glittering gaze met hers, and her heart turned over in response. He slipped his hands up her arms and brought her closer to him, until her chest brushed his, and she inhaled harshly at the contact. His breath rang in her ears, sharp and uneven. The dual pressures of his warm hands coming to the small of her back and the base of her skull sent a shiver through her. With shaking limbs, she clung to him, having no desire to escape his embrace.
He leaned near, and his lips touched hers like a feather being dragged gently over her skin. “Amelia.” Her name was a groan of need from his mouth.
Deep within her, raw ache sprang to life and took her breath away. Unable to form words, she twined her hands in his hair and dragged his lips to hers, a silent plea that he fulfill his promise. His lips captured hers once more, demanding this time, and devouring the little bit of self-control she had left. Their tongues met and swirled in a tangle of urgency and longing.
The pressure on her back increased until he crushed her to him so that she felt the savage beating of his heart. Her head rang with the sound until the beat of her own heart took up with his and the world seemed to slip away. She skimmed her hands down his neck, over his shoulders and the muscular planes of his back, just to press her fingertips against his hard body.
His mouth left hers and moved with rapid-fire precision down her neck and to the skin of her chest exposed by her low-cut gown. Every place he touched burned, and when his tongue flicked out to trace across the top slope of one breast and then the other, she moaned deep in her throat.