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SECRETS VOLUME 3
Trade Paperback

Copyright © ANGELA KNIGHT, ANN JACOBS, B. J. MCCALL, JEANIE CESARINI, 1997
All Rights Reserved, RED SAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

 

EXCERPT FROM BLOOD AND KISSES

“Or maybe,” Beryl said, shouldering into the group, “the vamp knows Clarke doesn’t have what it takes.” Swinging a leg over one of Decker’s hard thighs, she settled onto it, putting herself between him and the merc’s weapon. “Maybe I’m the one he’s waiting for.”
Beryl ignored the startled look in the vampire’s eyes and drew a forefinger hard down the cut running from her chin to her collar bone. The pressure made it bleed again, a fat hot bead that looked black and wet in the dim light as it rolled down the length of her finger.
Until, her heart pounding a combat drumbeat in her ears, her mouth dry as sand, Beryl offered her blood to Decker.
The vampire caught his breath. His eyes flicked to meet hers. Focused, sharpened to arc light intensity. Beryl swallowed, aware of the powerful muscle of his thigh between her legs, remembering all too clearly the moment when Tagliar had grabbed her, the feel of his breath, the burn of his fangs.
God, what was she doing here? You could never count on anybody but yourself. You sure as hell couldn’t count on one vamp to protect you from another.
His big hand came up and closed gently around her wrist. Beryl blinked at the masculine heat of his fingers, so different from the undead chill she’d expected.
He bent his head, his gaze still locked on her, and opened that lushly male mouth as he guided her forefinger between her lips. His tongue began a slow, velvet swirl around her fingertip. Paused. Swirled again. His eyes slid closed as he sucked gently.

EXCERPT FROM THE BARBARIAN

Hot and needing her husband’s mighty sword to ease her, Brianna raised her head again. “Release my bonds,” she whispered, not certain she wished him to comply. There was something exciting, forbidden, about being bound and helpless to the desires of this mighty conqueror.
“Soon.”
With trepidation she watched as he lazily looked over the remaining items on the chest. “What is that?” she asked when she saw him grasp the strange red glass cylinder.
His other hand settled on the hood that covered her ruined hair. “A dildo. Puny as it is, it should soothe you while I rid you of this.” With that terse reply Giles took the cylinder and inserted it where he had removed the spheres. Turning back to the chest he picked up the dagger. Brianna gasped, terrified that now her bridegroom intended to kill her.
“Fear not, sweeting. You pleasure me too much for me to wish you dead. Since you chose to hack away your hair in your effort to escape me, I intend to finish the job. I am going to cut away the unsightly mess you left behind.” Lifting her head he loosened and removed the wimple.

EXCERPT FROM LOVE UNDERCOVER

“I hate meetings,” Detective Wes Cooper muttered to his best friend and partner, Tom Jenkins. Just thinking about sitting through another squad meeting with his sexy new boss reminded Wes of his eighth grade year in Miss Hollister’s English literature class. Captivated by the beautiful redhead, he’d experienced several embarrassing classroom moments. At thirty-seven, a public erection wasn’t likely, but it was damn hard to concentrate on the Lieutenant’s comments when all Wes could think about was giving her a slow, intense strip search.
Tom checked his watch. “The Lieutenant’s running late. Maybe she’ll cancel.”
“I can only hope.” Wes shifted his gaze once again to the standard beige colored corridor visible through the glass-fronted conference room. When he spied his boss, dressed in a dark blue suit, threading her way past uniformed officers, lawyers, and assorted police personnel toward the conference room, Wes almost groaned.
On any other woman, a suit did little to compliment the body, but on Lt. Forbes an ordinary straight skirt and a double-breasted jacket took on a whole new dimension. No matter how hard he tried, and he had, Wes couldn’t ignore the curves filling out the fine blue wool.
How many times had he chastised himself for looking?
Covertly, he’d watch the graceful, fluid swing of the Lieutenant’s rounded backside as she navigated the crowded, narrow precinct corridors. Her long, slender legs captivated him.
At night, in his dreams, she walked naked. If he had to have a female boss, why did she have to be so damned sexy looking? And a green-eyed, redhead to boot?
Like Wes, Tom’s gaze was fixed on the new Lieutenant. “The Captain says the boss has a master’s degree. I understand she took a bunch of classes at the FBI school.”
“Just my luck,” Wes replied, thinking again of the sexy, unobtainable Miss Hollister who’d undoubtedly been responsible for his penchant for redheads. He glanced at Tom. “She’ll probably want to teach the burglars to read Milton.”
“Who’s Milton?”
“Never mind.” Wes placed one booted foot on the unoccupied chair next to his as the Lieutenant entered the conference room and brushed past him. For a split second her tush was a mere inch from his face. A hint of flowery perfume lingered in her wake.
Wes could just kill the Captain for hiring a female who put his male senses on full alert every time he saw her.
Amanda sorted out her prepared notes, then began. She was tempted to ask Wes Cooper to remove his booted foot from the chair directly to her immediate left, but as usual he sat there, his unsettling blue gaze fastened on her.
Fearless and cool when it counted, the good looking detective was too provocative for Amanda to ignore.
His startling silver-blue eyes enchanted her. His western style of dress and long-legged swagger had captured Amanda’s attention and fueled her imagination. Whenever he was near, her concentration suffered, making her uncomfortably aware of how long it had been since she’d felt the caress of a lover’s hands on her bare skin, the lustful brush of lips across her breasts or the heated thrust of an erection between her legs.

EXCERPT FROM THE SPY WHO LOVED ME

Special Agent Paige Ellison froze in the open doorway. Inside the cramped dressing room, a man came to his feet, his broad frame stealing the air. Her hand itched to grab a weapon that should have been within easy reach, her fingers burned to feel the comfortable weight of a gun in her hand. But Paige didn’t need a weapon. This time. She recognized her unexpected guest.

Her pulse steadied its rapid-fire tempo. After two years of living undercover among scum, she should have been used to the clandestine meetings, the subterfuge, the backstabbing, the corruption that clung to these people like stale sweat.
But she wasn’t used to them. Not yet. Not ever.
“What do you want?” She hoped he would interpret her terseness as annoyance when a nervous sweat was already beading her brow. This man was no ordinary thug—he was Lewis Goddard’s right-hand man.
“The boss wants to see you. Now.”
Paige didn’t hesitate, just nodded her consent and followed him out the door.
Lewis Goddard wanted to see her. She wondered if this was the opportunity she had been waiting for. Waiting forever it seemed. Day after lonely day living among criminals and assuming an identity not her own. Something important must have happened, because if Goddard had made her cover, she’d be dead by now.
Smoothing the fringe of her hem as the elevator shot toward the penthouse, she wished there had been time to change her dance costume. The beaded fabric suddenly hung heavy on her shoulders, the plumage of her headpiece cumbersome and awkward even though it forced the bodyguard to keep his distance in the elevator.
Her heart accelerated as the doors hissed open and she was directed through a reception area furnished in a tasteful contemporary style that contrasted dramatically with the opulence of Goddard’s casino.
But Paige had no time to admire the details of this inner sanctum before the bodyguard swept her through the office doors and left her facing one of the most wanted criminals of the nineties.
Lewis Goddard.
She had never been formally introduced. He spent most of his time on a private island in the Pacific or jet-setting around the world. She had only seen pictures of him in the FBI dossiers and glimpses through his crowded casino.
A striking man with jet black hair and fair skin, he was tall, leaner rather than muscular, but not without a raw-boned strength. Women found him attractive, but Paige couldn’t get past the iciness emanating from him. The flat gleam in his eyes made her wonder if he had a soul.
Yet she was surprised. He seemed smaller, only man-sized compared to the monster proportions he had assumed in her mind. Goddard was just a man, she reminded herself. Even the most heinous mass murderers and serial killers throughout history had only been human.
He motioned her toward the desk. “Thank you for coming, Paige.” Despite the words, his voice conveyed no appreciation.

RED SAGE PUBLISHING, INC. © 1997 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED