Donati Bloodlines, #1
Publication Date: May 2, 2016
Genres: Romantic Suspense, Erotic Romance, Organized Crime
#PREORDER (#Free with #KU): Amazon
She was just a woman. That’s what Calisto wanted to tell himself; that’s what he wanted to believe. Emma was nothing more than a woman. There were other women for him to want. To obsess over.
It couldn’t be Emma Sorrento.
Not for Calisto.
She was taken.
She was claimed.
She was not his.
In a few days, Calisto would hand her off, and that would be that. He wondered why it wouldn’t be that easy to let her go.
What good had saving her done?
He had simply taken her from one monster to give her to another.
Emma slid on her mask. All someone would need to do was look close enough to see what was really beneath the sheer falseness of her smile.
At the other end of the table, Emma found her lies staring her right in the face.
Calisto Donati was her worst mistake, her greatest shame, and the one thing she still wanted more than anything. Emma could still feel him all over her, long after his touch and kiss was gone. In thirty days, her entire world had changed—he had changed her.
Emma had a feeling that if she played another game with Calisto, she would surely lose.
She had already lost once.
Wasn’t it enough?
WARNING: The first two books in the Donati Bloodlines Trilogy end on a cliffhanger, and are not considered safe romance.
“It does hurt me,” Calisto said before he could stop himself.
He wanted to take the words back immediately.
Emma stilled in the passenger seat. “Then why play?”
To punish himself.
“For a lot of different reasons,” Calisto settled on saying. “But tonight, I played so that you wouldn’t have to. You didn’t seem comfortable. I didn’t think you wanted to have everyone looking at you after what happened. It was a small sacrifice.”
“But you hurt now,” she said, seeming confused. “Don’t you?”
“But you didn’t have to.”
For Calisto, that was all that mattered.
Turning his head, Calisto stared out the opened driver’s window. He wondered if anyone had noticed that both he and Emma had left the dinner party without a goodbye. He supposed it didn’t make a difference.
Calisto didn’t mind Emma’s presence disturbing his peace, either.
“Calisto?” Emma asked softly.
Her hand rested on his thigh, and Calisto jerked in the seat at the innocent touch. The problem was, her touch couldn’t be innocent at all. Not with the way he currently felt, the things he had done, or the lines he had already crossed with a mighty “fuck you.” He hadn’t been expecting it, and he didn’t even hear Emma move in her seat.
Calisto barely had the chance to spin around and face Emma again before her mouth pressed against his. It was soft at first, smooth like her plump lips, and then her fingers dug into his leg like she was demanding something from him.
He didn’t know what it was.
Instinctively, Calisto wanted to push her away. He wanted to kiss her back, too. The crazy side of his brain won, the side that listened to his selfish wants and not his needs.
Or maybe he needed it, too.
Calisto didn’t know.
But he did grab onto Emma’s dress. He fisted the fabric around his taut knuckles, and pulled her a little closer. His tongue swept the seam of her lips, wanting more, needing to be deeper, seeking her heat and taste.
A little wouldn’t hurt, right?
Just a little more.
Emma sighed a sweet sound, giving into his unspoken demand by parting her lips. Calisto took the offering for what it was, kissed her harder, and let his tongue war with hers until she was gasping for air. Pulling away enough to catch a breath, Emma tipped her head up and hummed.
Calisto couldn’t help himself but lean forward and kiss her chin.
He was fucking stupid.
Why did she make him so stupid?
“I should go in and say goodbye,” he heard Emma say.
Calisto was too distracted by the flimsy fabric of her dress in his hands. A little pull with just enough strength and he knew that the dress would rip. She was close, and he could grab her around the waist before pulling her into the backseat.
The windows were tinted.
No one would see.
A little more wouldn’t hurt.
Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to three young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time.
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