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  Show Me

  Marc must face the biggest challenge of his life--convincing Liv Davis that he means to love her forever.

  Chased

  (c) 2007 Lauren Dane

  Liv Davis had just about given up on her happily ever after. Burned by love more than once, she's beginning to think Mr. Right wasn't in the cards for her.

  Marc Chase is a confirmed bachelor and lover of women--lots of them. He's determined not to fall head over heels the way his brothers have. Until he kisses Olivia Davis and realizes head over heels may not be such a bad thing after all!

  Can Liv open her scarred heart for this younger ladies man? She loves Marc more than she can begin to admit but she's terrified of being rejected again. Marc faces a challenge greater than he's ever faced before.

  Making a woman believe he's more than just a great bedmate--making her believe he's in it for good.

  In the end it will all come down to two days in a hotel and a bet. Can they both win?

  Book Three in the Chase Brothers Series

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Chased:

  Marc's place smelled like his cologne and fresh fruit. She saw a set of hanging baskets filled with apples and peaches and knew that's where the scent had come from. His living room windows were large and looked out over the street. It was nicely furnished with bookshelves on the walls and pictures of his family all around.

  He kept surprising her and that made her uncomfortable. In the box marked unavailable bachelor for life, he was non-threatening because it wouldn't pay to develop feelings for him. But in the box labeled guy way

  deeper than she'd thought who loved his family? That guy was dangerous to her well being.

  "Now." He flipped the lights off before lighting candles set all around the living room. "I'll be right back." He disappeared down the hall, returning after a few moments. "You look gorgeous with candlelight on your skin. I figured you would. Then again, I've yet to see you in a situation where you didn't look gorgeous."

  His hands went to the tie at the right shoulder of her shirt and undid it, letting it fall forward. Her nipples, already hard at his presence, hardened even more at the cool air and the look on his face.

  "Okay, let's go down the hall before I take you here on the floor of my living room. I've already had you in a truck, I need to mind my manners now."

  She laughed and let him drag her down his hallway to his bedroom. A king sized bed dominated the space.

  "I've been dreaming of this," he murmured, pulling his shirt up and over his head. Her heart raced at the sight of him, tawny in the candlelight.

  "God you're beautiful."

  He stopped and cocked his head, smiling. "Thank you, sugar. I've got nothing on you."

  Her blouse lay around her waist and she removed it, laying it on the arm of a chair.

  "Nothing on me." She snorted. "Puhleeze. Look at yourself in that mirror there. You're gorgeous. Hard and fit and muscular. I know you know you're handsome, women fall over you all the time and you catch quite a few too."

  Chuckling, he unzipped her pants and shoved them down, letting her lean on him as she stepped out of them and her shoes.

  "Good gracious." He stalked around her, taking in every inch of her body. A body he'd helped her shape and strengthen. She'd never been ashamed of her nudity but she certainly felt a lot better about her overall tone and shape now that he'd kicked her ass for two and a half months.

  "Now you. I want to see all of you."

  He stopped in front of her and slowly undid the buttons at the front of his jeans. Each pop of the seven buttons drew her nerves, and her nipples, tighter.

  He shoved his jeans down and off his body, taking his socks off with them and then stood gloriously naked in front of her.

  "Wow." Her mouth dried up. Flat, hard stomach with an enchanting line of hair leading to his very healthy equipment. Listing to the left. She liked that, liked how it'd felt inside her. Right then it was very hard. "I do so love a man with such a good recovery time."

  He laughed but made no move to stop her as she took her time looking him over, taking in every inch of his body. Unable to stop herself, she skimmed her palms down his back and over his muscled ass. "This is even nicer unclothed."

  When she reached his front again, his eyes were a deep, dark green and a very naughty grin had taken residence on his lips. A thrill worked through her at the sight of that face. Shit, she totally should have started doing younger men years ago. Even as she thought it, she knew it was a lie. It wasn't about his relative youth, it was about him.

  "By the way? You're not overcompensating. Not at all."

  Surprise overtook his features for a moment and he threw his head back to laugh. The floor swept out beneath her and she landed with a laugh on the bed, Marc looming over her.

  "Did you like what you saw?"

  "I like what I see very much. I'd like it even more if you got busy with all those arms and legs, your mouth and hands and that verra fine cock you've got there."

  "On your hands and knees then. Face the other way. I want to fuck you from behind but this way I can see your face in the mirror. See you come with those beautiful cat eyes looking up at me so you don't forget who's bringing you such pleasure."

  Holy shit, the man was lethal with the talking. Who knew? Ugh, again with the surprises. He was like the ultimate Pandora's box of naughty.

  She moved quickly and he settled himself behind her. They were well matched height wise, his groin pressed against her ass and the back of her pussy.

  But he didn't plunge in. Instead he bent and licked the length of her spine until a soft squeal of surprised pleasure came from her.

  "I don't have any neighbors and the shoe store is closed. Feel free to make as much noise as you like." The edge of his teeth found her hip, biting her gently. "I just want to eat you up." He paused and met her eyes in the mirror. "Again."

  She moaned as shivers of delight broke over her. She looked back, under the line of her body, watching as he sheathed himself.

  "Now then." He pressed the head of his cock just inside her body and waited. One of his hands gripped her hip, keeping her from ramming herself back against him to take him inside. The other stole around her body and palmed a breast, moving to slowly tug and roll the nipple until she writhed as much as she could.

  "Please!"

  "Please what? Tell me what you want, Liv."

  "Fuck me. Please. Stop teasing me and fuck me."

  "My pleasure." He slid deeply into her in one strong push before pulling out nearly all the way.

  If Marc hadn't already loved her, watching her as he fucked her would have sealed the deal. It took a lot of trust for a woman to let herself be taken from behind like that. More trust to tell a man what she wanted and then to receive it with utter erotic abandon.

  Her breasts swayed as she moved back to meet his thrusts, soft sounds broke from her as he played with her incredibly sensitive nipples.

  She was wet and creamy and he'd never felt anything as good as being deep inside her. His fingertips found her clit again, coaxing her into another orgasm.

  And when she came? Holy moley she looked absolutely luscious. Her face flushed, eyes glassy, lips wet from her tongue. He'd seen a lot of women orgasm, but this one was beyond compare.

  He loved how easy it was to make her climax as well. Once when he'd gone down on her, another as he made love to her in the truck, a third time with his hands just moments before and now he'd have her do it herself.

  An old-fashioned undertaker who asks for lessons in what turns a woman on...what more could any teacher ask for?

  Mortified Matchmaker

  (c) 2007 Alexis Fleming

  When circumstances force kindergarten teacher Melissa Morgan to take her twin sister's place as proprietor of a dating agency, the last thing she expects is to meet a funeral director in desperate need of lessons in what a woman wants. Despite his quirky behavior and antiquated ideas, Matthew Campbell pushes ever
y one of Melissa's buttons and it's not long before the lessons become more important than finding Matthew a mate.

  But how will Melissa react when she finds out Matthew is an undercover federal agent in pursuit of a blackmailer and she's the prime suspect?

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Mortified Matchmaker:

  "Make yourself comfortable, Matthew, and I'll put the first of the tapes on."

  Wobbling slightly as the unfamiliar high heels caught in the thick pile of the carpet, she moved to the far end of the room, slid the video into the machine and turned on the television. Remote control in hand, she joined Matthew on the sofa and started the tape.

  "This first lady's name is Martha Frazer. She's perhaps a little older than you specified on your application form, but she sounds very much a homebody. Anyway, I'll let you view the tape and you can tell me what you think."

  As Matthew watched the screen, Melissa tried to find a comfortable position on the sofa. With it being so wide, she couldn't lean back against the cushions. If she did, she'd have to sit with her legs extended out in front of her like a child. Not very professional.

  Neither was the flash of garters high on her thighs as she tried to perch on the extreme edge of the sofa. She tugged at the hemline of her skirt, only to have it ride up again as soon as she released it. Hell, at this rate, she'd be forced to sit with both hands on the bottom of her skirt to keep it in place.

  As the video ended, she turned to Matthew, an enquiring look on her face. "So what do you think?"

  Matt tried not to grin as her skirt slid up to expose the top of her nylons and gave him a quick glimpse of naked thigh. He'd seen her efforts to tweak it down. If she didn't want her legs on show, why wear such short skirts?

  The character Joshua Cribbs had created for him foremost in his mind, Matt clasped his hands together and lowered his chin to tap at his pursed lips with pointed index fingers. "Hmm, she sounds a very nice lady," he said.

  "But?"

  "I'm not certain she's suitable. Very unfashionable and a lot older than I wanted. Probably set in her ways. Not malleable at all. I don't think I'd be able to mold her into what I perceive as the perfect partner."

  He knew his words sounded chauvinistic, but it suited his undercover identity. With his Italian heritage, he was used to a culture where women were revered, feted and looked after. Although that in itself sounded chauvinistic, the women in his family were strong and independent, equal partners in any relationship.

  Still, he had a part to play and somehow he had to get Mel Morgan to take him personally under her wing, not fob him off on one of her clients.

  If he took these women on a date and screwed it up, maybe they'd report back to Melissa. Then he could suggest she teach him how to romance a woman. He couldn't think of any other way to get close enough to Miss Morgan to find out what he needed to know.

  "You know, perhaps I've been going about this the wrong way. I think I need someone more glamorous. I'd like to lift the profile of my business, and as I'd want any prospective partner to work with me, at least until

  the children come, perhaps I should have someone a bit more..." His voice trailed off for a moment. "I guess sophisticated is the word I'm looking for."

  "Let's try the next one then, shall we? This woman's name is Janice Betonie. She certainly looks more the part."

  Melissa struggled to her feet, almost catching her heel again in the loop of the carpet. She could have sworn she felt the burn of Matthew's gaze on her rear end as she walked over to change the tape.

  It made the sway of her hips feel more exaggerated than normal.

  Made her aware of her body in a way she never had been before. Why this should be, she didn't know. She certainly wasn't comfortable with the man. Despite that, something about him made her pulse beat faster.

  Made the blood rush through her veins and generated a fire she hadn't felt in a long time.

  For crying out loud, the man was an undertaker of all things. How could she be turned on by someone who dealt in dead bodies?

  Regardless of his job, he was as sexy as hell, even with all that grease in his hair. One thing, though, he'd have to change his chauvinistic attitudes. In this day and age no woman would put up with his comments. He was already at a disadvantage, what with his strange mannerisms and the disastrous hair oil. Although the way she felt, she'd even put up with that.

  Damn, this wasn't like her at all. She was acting completely out of character. You're the responsible one, remember, Melissa? Yeah, goody-two-shoes as her sister would say. So what the hell was wrong with her?

  Her brain had gone on vacation. Because right about now, she had one thought and one thought only in her mind. Throw Matthew Campbell down on his back and fuck the living daylights out of him.

  Oh my gawd, she was in serious trouble here. She needed to get her mind off her body and onto the business of finding Matthew Campbell a partner.

  Matt tried to keep his attention focused on the television screen, but he couldn't help a sneaky sideway glance at the exposed length of

  Melissa's legs. She'd either forgotten, or given up, trying to stretch her skirt down. One pale pink, lacy garter peeked out beneath the hemline.

  On the very end, in what appeared to be silky satin, was a darker pink embroidered rose.

  He had a sudden urge to reach out and run his finger over it to check. It took all his self-discipline to ignore the unschooled impulse. He averted his gaze and stared at the screen.

  "My name is Janice Betonie and I'm..."

  The woman on the screen had a well-modulated, husky voice, but she couldn't hold his interest. Matt tuned out the sound and allowed his attention and his gaze to slide back to the woman beside him. Her skirt had risen another inch. He caught a peek of pale skin above the rose-embossed garter.

  X-rated images leapt into his brain, scrambling his thought processes. Heat slammed into him, sliding through his veins and igniting a hungry need inside him. He itched to run his fingers over that strip of skin and see if it felt as soft as it looked. He wanted to taste the creamy texture, slide his tongue across the silky softness and trace the garter up her thigh until he came to her pussy.

  He imagined himself down on his knees, head buried between those creamy thighs. Tongue probing at the slick folds of her sex. Then he'd spread her lips and play with her clit until she screamed and begged him to delve deep to taste her honey.

  His cock tightened, all the blood driven from his brain and collecting in that wayward piece of male equipment. A raging boner pushed at the front of his trousers. He dropped his hands over his lap to hide the telltale bulge. Thank God he'd worn a suit today and not his normal skin-tight jeans. Shit, he had to stop this, but first...

  He leaned closer and dragged in a deep breath. Light, floral perfume teased at his senses. Funny, given the glossy photo back at the office, he would have staked a bet she'd use a heavy musky scent. But he liked this better. Somehow, it suited her. Made a fellow think of innocence and...

  Hang on a minute, man, he remonstrated with himself. This woman is anything but innocent. She's the subject of an undercover investigation and you'd better remember that. Get your mind out of your pants and onto your work.

  As the videotape came to an end, he plastered what he hoped was an interested look on his face. He kept his gaze glued to the blank screen as if deep in thought when Melissa turned toward him.

  "What do you think, Matthew? Are you interested?"

  Fucked if I know. I didn't take in anything but the first sentence the woman uttered. "Hmm, it's so hard to make a decision based on a video image."

  "Perhaps you should meet Janice, go out with her and see how you feel. I'm sure you'll have a great time with her and once you've had a successful date, you'll have much more confidence in your dating skills.

  You're a good-looking man. Any woman would be happy to be seen with you. Would you like me to ring her?"

  Matt stood and stepped away from the sofa. Even from
here, Melissa's perfume reached out to him and made his cock twitch in reaction. "Yes, perhaps that would be best. Meet the woman in the flesh, so to speak. Dial away, my dear lady."

  Somehow he had to get Miss Morgan to take him under her wing personally, not fob him off on some other unsuspecting female. How else was he going to find out if she was a part of this blackmailing scam?

  Time to turn on the pathos.

  Love can rescue a lonely heart.

  Rescue Me

  (c) 2006 Jaci Burton

  Kyle Morgan doesn't want to be rescued, especially not by former beauty queen Sabrina Daniels. Sabrina fires up Kyle's long dormant libido, and it's like a match struck on dry tinder - an explosion of heat whenever she's around. His cheating ex-wife left a bad taste in his mouth about the entire female gender and he doesn't want to get involved again, despite Sabrina's untapped sensuality.

  Sabrina Daniels, newly divorced from her controlling millionaire husband, is out to build her independence and begin a new life.

  She's always wanted to be a ranch owner but knows nothing about ranching. Her solution comes in the form of The Rocking M in Dreamwater, Oklahoma. The ranch needs an investor, and she has the money. But if she wants her dreams to come true, Sabrina will have to work alongside handsome-as-sin Kyle Morgan. Yes, he's surly and unpleasant, but underneath his tough exterior, she discovers a man who feels like a failure.

  Both have firm goals for their future, but love has a way of interfering in the best laid plans.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Rescue Me:

  "I'm here to rescue you."

  Kyle Morgan was so intent on what he was doing he thought the female voice above him was his sister Jenna, bugging him about coming in for lunch.

  "I don't need rescuing right now. Get lost." Another turn of the wrench and he might actually be able to get the blasted oil pan loosened.

  "That's not what this paper says."

  Definitely not his sister's voice. Those weren't Jenna's legs either. But then he couldn't see much while lying in the dirt under the truck. He tilted his head sideways and saw red-painted toenails and slim, tanned ankles. Jenna wouldn't be caught dead in skimpy sandals like that.